smartly,
illegally double-parked, and opened the door, and out she came, said
a few words. Probably as to where and when to pick her up. Mendoza
was legitimately caught in this lane by the halted Chrysler, an
excuse for watching. The chauffeur touched his cap, grinned apology
over his shoulder at Mendoza, and ran around to the driver's door
again. And Madame Bouvardier vanished through the door of an elegant
black-glass-and-marble fronted shop labeled in discreet gold script,
Shanrahan and MacReady.
"Well, well," said Mendoza sadly to
himself. "A mare's nest. With a clutch of wild goose eggs in
it." But he turned the next corner, miraculously found a parking
space, and strolled back to keep an eye on the black glass door.
In twenty minutes it opened and she came out and
turned in his direction. He stayed where he was, propping the wall of
the bank on the corner, and his flagging interest was slightly
aroused by her expression as she passed him: she was biting her lower
lip, looking thoughtful and annoyed. She carried no parcel, and her
bag was too small to conceal even a little one.
She walked on half a block, stopping a few times to
look in windows, and disappeared into the plush elegance of Chez
Frédéric, Coiffures.
"Oh, hell," said Mendoza to himself. She
hadn't stopped at the counter in there, but with a white-robed
attendant at her elbow passed on into the rear premises. Be there for
hours, very likely.
What did he think he was doing, anyway? You couldn't
expect a tailing job to turn up something interesting in the first
hour. If he wanted to know more about the female, put a man on her,
and preserve patience.
And no reason she
shouldn't have gone where she did. A place any woman might go. But,
as long as he was here.— He turned around and walked back to
Shanrahan and MacReady.
* * *
Mr. Brian Shanrahan welcomed him into the chaste
quietude of the shop with subdued cries of delight, or what passed
for that with a dignified middle-aged professional man of repute.
"And what may I have the pleasure of showing you
today? Perhaps at last something in a wedding set? I have— "
"You and my grandmother," said Mendoza.
"And how is the charming señora ?
Such an interesting old lady— "
"You find her interesting," said Mendoza,
"because she's the cautious type who likes to put money into
portable value she can look at instead of six percent common stock,
and is one of your best customers. It's not for want of telling she
hasn't grasped that you figure a two hundred per-cent mark-up."
"Now that's slander, Mendoza," said
Shanrahan aggrievedly. "Seldom more than a hundred and fifty.
And if it's something for her birthday, she was in and briefed me
thoroughly. There's this bracelet she has her eye on, very fine
stones, if you'd like to look— "
"No," said Mendoza. "It's ridiculous,
and I refuse to be a party to it. I'd like to inherit something from
her eventually besides stock for a secondhand jewelry shop. I didn't
come in to buy anything, I want some information?
Mr. Shanrahan sighed and asked what about.
"A few minutes ago a woman came in here— a
very exotic, expensive-looking young woman— black and white
ensemble, lace-brimmed hat, gloves— "
"And diamonds in some very old-fashioned
mountings," nodded the jeweler intelligently. "Friend of
yours?"
"Heaven forbid, not my type— "
"Didn't know you had one."
"What did she want? Who waited on her?"
"As a matter of fact I did."
"Of course, you took one look and she spelled
Money, so you wouldn't trust her to an underling."
"Or I tried to. She looked at a couple of
things, but she wasn't really interested. If she hadn't— um— as
you say, looked quite so expensive, I might have put her down as an
amateur novelist looking for information. The first thing she came
out with was, what enormous value all these beautiful things must
represent, we must have to be very careful about thieves. Did we have
a burglar alarm? Did we have a night watchman? Had we
illegally double-parked, and opened the door, and out she came, said
a few words. Probably as to where and when to pick her up. Mendoza
was legitimately caught in this lane by the halted Chrysler, an
excuse for watching. The chauffeur touched his cap, grinned apology
over his shoulder at Mendoza, and ran around to the driver's door
again. And Madame Bouvardier vanished through the door of an elegant
black-glass-and-marble fronted shop labeled in discreet gold script,
Shanrahan and MacReady.
"Well, well," said Mendoza sadly to
himself. "A mare's nest. With a clutch of wild goose eggs in
it." But he turned the next corner, miraculously found a parking
space, and strolled back to keep an eye on the black glass door.
In twenty minutes it opened and she came out and
turned in his direction. He stayed where he was, propping the wall of
the bank on the corner, and his flagging interest was slightly
aroused by her expression as she passed him: she was biting her lower
lip, looking thoughtful and annoyed. She carried no parcel, and her
bag was too small to conceal even a little one.
She walked on half a block, stopping a few times to
look in windows, and disappeared into the plush elegance of Chez
Frédéric, Coiffures.
"Oh, hell," said Mendoza to himself. She
hadn't stopped at the counter in there, but with a white-robed
attendant at her elbow passed on into the rear premises. Be there for
hours, very likely.
What did he think he was doing, anyway? You couldn't
expect a tailing job to turn up something interesting in the first
hour. If he wanted to know more about the female, put a man on her,
and preserve patience.
And no reason she
shouldn't have gone where she did. A place any woman might go. But,
as long as he was here.— He turned around and walked back to
Shanrahan and MacReady.
* * *
Mr. Brian Shanrahan welcomed him into the chaste
quietude of the shop with subdued cries of delight, or what passed
for that with a dignified middle-aged professional man of repute.
"And what may I have the pleasure of showing you
today? Perhaps at last something in a wedding set? I have— "
"You and my grandmother," said Mendoza.
"And how is the charming señora ?
Such an interesting old lady— "
"You find her interesting," said Mendoza,
"because she's the cautious type who likes to put money into
portable value she can look at instead of six percent common stock,
and is one of your best customers. It's not for want of telling she
hasn't grasped that you figure a two hundred per-cent mark-up."
"Now that's slander, Mendoza," said
Shanrahan aggrievedly. "Seldom more than a hundred and fifty.
And if it's something for her birthday, she was in and briefed me
thoroughly. There's this bracelet she has her eye on, very fine
stones, if you'd like to look— "
"No," said Mendoza. "It's ridiculous,
and I refuse to be a party to it. I'd like to inherit something from
her eventually besides stock for a secondhand jewelry shop. I didn't
come in to buy anything, I want some information?
Mr. Shanrahan sighed and asked what about.
"A few minutes ago a woman came in here— a
very exotic, expensive-looking young woman— black and white
ensemble, lace-brimmed hat, gloves— "
"And diamonds in some very old-fashioned
mountings," nodded the jeweler intelligently. "Friend of
yours?"
"Heaven forbid, not my type— "
"Didn't know you had one."
"What did she want? Who waited on her?"
"As a matter of fact I did."
"Of course, you took one look and she spelled
Money, so you wouldn't trust her to an underling."
"Or I tried to. She looked at a couple of
things, but she wasn't really interested. If she hadn't— um— as
you say, looked quite so expensive, I might have put her down as an
amateur novelist looking for information. The first thing she came
out with was, what enormous value all these beautiful things must
represent, we must have to be very careful about thieves. Did we have
a burglar alarm? Did we have a night watchman? Had we
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