boy, I’d bet on the horses.”
18
A S IT TURNED OUT, Helene was not at all what Mrs. Norris had expected. She looked like a working woman for all her delicate features. Her hand, given with a will on their introduction, had the hardness about it—not roughness but firmness—of competency. Indeed, something inside Mrs. Norris gave a sudden turn, like her soul to the wall. Here was a woman she was going to like in spite of herself, and a woman, she did not doubt, who once she got her foot in the house in Nyack, was likely to bring the other in after it and close the door.
Mr. Tully drove them to the garage. There he identified himself and countersigned the release order. The Jaguar was in plain sight, having been the object of much attention. The technical men had been over it.
“When did the General leave the car?” Tully asked.
“Eight-fifty, sir, Thursday, March fifteenth.”
“Were you on duty?”
“Happens, sir, I was.”
“Then you know positively it was General Jarvis and not someone else who parked it?”
“Yes, sir. It was the General. Him and I often conversed.”
“The car has been here since?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was he in the habit of parking here?”
“At least once a week, sir.”
“Overnight?”
“Yes, sir. Sometimes longer. A day or two that is.”
“Ever deliver the car to him?” Tully fired these questions, quite unlike his slow-moving self.
“To his club on Thirty-ninth Street.”
“Damnation,” Tully murmured, slowing down. Then he was off on another attack. “Did you ever see a lady with him?”
“No, sir, though I thought he had one, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I don’t mind if you got a reason,” the detective said.
Helene and Mrs. Norris looked at each other.
“He sometimes carried presents or what looked like presents,” the attendant went on. “I asked him once if he had grandchildren, meaning in the neighborhood, you see.”
“And he said?”
The attendant looked uncomfortably at the women and then plunged on. “He said to me, ‘My boy,’ he said, ‘I have grandchildren on five continents.’ ”
“And that’s how you came to the conclusion he was visiting a lady in the neighborhood?”
“Oh no. Once he had a bottle of perfume. I could smell it.”
“Thursday night, did he have any packages?”
“He was in a hurry, sir. I wouldn’t say the General was ever frightened, but there was something on his mind. He was quite fidgety.”
“Did he have any packages?” Tully hit again. He never asked a question that he did not get an answer to, however much gratuitous information was volunteered him in between.
“Yes, sir, but I can’t remember what. I remember him carrying something….”
“Master Jamie’s dispatch case!” Mrs. Norris cried. “I remember now him borrowing it in the morning!”
The attendant was nodding his head. “Yes, ma’am, a dispatch case. Like a thin suitcase, and I remember gold initials on it.”
“Completely irrelevant,” Helene said, “but I gave it to young Mr. Jarvis last Christmas. The initials are J.R.J.”
“Better give me a full description,” Tully said.
Helene did, concluding: “And I paid twenty-three dollars for it, plus tax.”
“It pays to buy good,” Mrs. Norris said, approving just as much Helene’s recollection of the exact cost.
Tully gave the boy fifty cents and told him that the ladies would take the car. “I suppose it could be at his club, the dispatch case,” he said then to Mrs. Norris. “Would you have any notions at all as to what was in it?”
She shook her head. “Off and on he’s been composing his memoirs. Oh, and I do know he’s been rummaging in the attic amongst the family papers for the last week or so. You might just ask Mr. James about it.” Tully nodded and held the door for Mrs. Norris. “Safe home, ladies.”
“Where’s your shamrock, Mr. Tully?” she asked, looking up in his face.
“Deep in my heart,” he said, “where
18
A S IT TURNED OUT, Helene was not at all what Mrs. Norris had expected. She looked like a working woman for all her delicate features. Her hand, given with a will on their introduction, had the hardness about it—not roughness but firmness—of competency. Indeed, something inside Mrs. Norris gave a sudden turn, like her soul to the wall. Here was a woman she was going to like in spite of herself, and a woman, she did not doubt, who once she got her foot in the house in Nyack, was likely to bring the other in after it and close the door.
Mr. Tully drove them to the garage. There he identified himself and countersigned the release order. The Jaguar was in plain sight, having been the object of much attention. The technical men had been over it.
“When did the General leave the car?” Tully asked.
“Eight-fifty, sir, Thursday, March fifteenth.”
“Were you on duty?”
“Happens, sir, I was.”
“Then you know positively it was General Jarvis and not someone else who parked it?”
“Yes, sir. It was the General. Him and I often conversed.”
“The car has been here since?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was he in the habit of parking here?”
“At least once a week, sir.”
“Overnight?”
“Yes, sir. Sometimes longer. A day or two that is.”
“Ever deliver the car to him?” Tully fired these questions, quite unlike his slow-moving self.
“To his club on Thirty-ninth Street.”
“Damnation,” Tully murmured, slowing down. Then he was off on another attack. “Did you ever see a lady with him?”
“No, sir, though I thought he had one, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I don’t mind if you got a reason,” the detective said.
Helene and Mrs. Norris looked at each other.
“He sometimes carried presents or what looked like presents,” the attendant went on. “I asked him once if he had grandchildren, meaning in the neighborhood, you see.”
“And he said?”
The attendant looked uncomfortably at the women and then plunged on. “He said to me, ‘My boy,’ he said, ‘I have grandchildren on five continents.’ ”
“And that’s how you came to the conclusion he was visiting a lady in the neighborhood?”
“Oh no. Once he had a bottle of perfume. I could smell it.”
“Thursday night, did he have any packages?”
“He was in a hurry, sir. I wouldn’t say the General was ever frightened, but there was something on his mind. He was quite fidgety.”
“Did he have any packages?” Tully hit again. He never asked a question that he did not get an answer to, however much gratuitous information was volunteered him in between.
“Yes, sir, but I can’t remember what. I remember him carrying something….”
“Master Jamie’s dispatch case!” Mrs. Norris cried. “I remember now him borrowing it in the morning!”
The attendant was nodding his head. “Yes, ma’am, a dispatch case. Like a thin suitcase, and I remember gold initials on it.”
“Completely irrelevant,” Helene said, “but I gave it to young Mr. Jarvis last Christmas. The initials are J.R.J.”
“Better give me a full description,” Tully said.
Helene did, concluding: “And I paid twenty-three dollars for it, plus tax.”
“It pays to buy good,” Mrs. Norris said, approving just as much Helene’s recollection of the exact cost.
Tully gave the boy fifty cents and told him that the ladies would take the car. “I suppose it could be at his club, the dispatch case,” he said then to Mrs. Norris. “Would you have any notions at all as to what was in it?”
She shook her head. “Off and on he’s been composing his memoirs. Oh, and I do know he’s been rummaging in the attic amongst the family papers for the last week or so. You might just ask Mr. James about it.” Tully nodded and held the door for Mrs. Norris. “Safe home, ladies.”
“Where’s your shamrock, Mr. Tully?” she asked, looking up in his face.
“Deep in my heart,” he said, “where
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