“Because her doctor said that I wasn’t to disturb her.”
“But you’re going out there at ten-thirty?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get you.” I said, “Mrs. Devarest dropped an interesting remark.”
“What?”
“She said her husband carried forty thousand dollars in insurance, that the policies paid double in case of accidental death.”
“Well, what about it?”
“Insurance policies don’t read that way.”
“Bosh!” Bertha said. “I have one myself. Ten thousand payable to my estate. That’ll clean up my bills. In case I meet an accidental death, it pays twenty.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Bertha flushed. “Do you mean to say I don’t know what my own insurance policy says?”
“Yes.” Bertha carefully laid down the carved ivory cigarette holder. She opened a drawer, took out some keys, opened another drawer, unlocked a box, took out a life insurance policy, folded it over, and said, “Read it.” I looked over her shoulder.
“Well?” Bertha said triumphantly.
“You’re wrong.”
“What!”
“You’re wrong.”
“You’re crazy! Here it is, just as I said. It’s right here in black and white.”
“No. It isn’t. This policy pays double in case the death is by accidental means.”
“Well, what did I tell you?”
“You said accidental death.”
“What’s the difference?” I said, “Try to collect from an insurance company, and you’ll find out the difference.” Bertha kept looking at me. She said, “Sometimes, Donald, I love you, and sometimes I hate your damn guts.” She folded the policy, put it back in the box, locked the box, closed the drawer, dropped the keys in the other drawer of the desk. After a while she said, “All right, you studied law. You know the answers. I’m dumb. Personally, the way I look at that policy, if I meet with an accidental death, my estate gets twenty thousand.” I said, “There’s a difference between an accidental death and a death by accidental means. In one case, your death is the result of an accident. You do something, and because of something you overlooked, you die. That’s an accidental death. In order to make it a death by accidental means, there must be something in the very means of death which is accidental.” Bertha said, “I don’t get it.” I said, “If you drive into a garage and start tinkering with your car, leave the motor running, inhale carbon monoxide and die, there’s nothing accidental about the means of your death. All of the means were set in motion by you. You started the engine. You were negligent. You stayed in the poisoned atmosphere too long.”
“And under those circumstances she wouldn’t get twice the face of the policy?”
“That’s right.” Bertha said, “How did you know her policy is the same as mine?”
“They’re all the same—all I’ve ever seen. It’s standard form.”
“Don’t the insurance companies know the difference?”
“They do. They’re about the only ones who do. Lots of lawyers don’t even know the difference.” Bertha said, “What are you going to do?”
“Just keep stalling along until the insurance company breaks the bad news to Mrs. Devarest.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll let her go see her lawyer.”
“Then what?”
“Then when all the others have given up, I’ll suggest we can collect the other forty thousand dollars for her—the double-benefit clause.”
“How?”
“I don’t know—yet.”
“If we collect forty thousand for her, we should get half, and ” I said, “Be reasonable.”
“Well, we should get something substantial out of it.”
“We should.” Bertha said suddenly, “I mean I should. I would, of course, give you a nice bonus, and ”
“We should,” I said.
Bertha frowned. “What are you getting at?” I said, “I’m quitting.” The springs creaked on Bertha Cool’s chair as she came swinging up in straight-backed indignation. “You’re doing what?” she demanded, her voice harsh. -
“Quitting.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
“For what?”
“I’m getting a full partnership in a business.”
“What business?”
“A detective agency.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.” Bertha thought that over.
“You need to do more fishing,” I explained.
She said, “Donald, you’re a brainy little cuss. You’ve got lots of imagination and daring. It would bother Bertha to have to get along without you, but you haven’t any business ability. You throw money to the birdies. This place would go broke in six months if I took you in the partnership. Now you let Bertha run the finances, and she’ll give you a bonus on–”
“A full partnership or nothing.”
“All right then,” she snapped angrily, “it’s nothing. I’m not going to be held up. I ”
“Take it easy,” I told her. “Don’t lose your temper. Tell Elsie to make out a cheque for what I’ve got coming.”
“How about your appointment with Mrs. Devarest?”
“You can go out and keep it.” Bertha pushed back her chair. Her face was mottled with anger. “By God, I will !”
“Be careful not to excite her,” I said. “The doctor doesn’t want her excited. Excitement is bad for the arteries. Anger is the worst of all.” I told my landlady I was going to San Francisco to look for work, that my rent was paid until the first. If I couldn’t get back to move things out by the first, I’d arrange to have someone pack and ship my things.
She’d never approved of me, but she was sorry to lose me. I was regular pay, and had steady work. She wanted to know why I’d been discharged. I told her I hadn’t been discharged, I’d quit. I could see she didn’t believe it.
I went to San Francisco, stayed for three days at a cheap hotel, and on the third day wrote my landlady on the hotel stationery that I’d decided to remain in San Francisco permanently.
The next morning I went out to breakfast, then went out to the beach and did some ice skating. I had lunch, sat around on the beach until the fog began to roll in, then went back uptown to a movie. I got back to the hotel about five o’clock.
Bertha Cool was sitting in the lobby. She was so mad her eyes were snapping.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.
“Oh, just looking around,” I said. “How is everything?”
“Rotten.”
“That’s too bad. Been waiting long?”
“You know damn well I have. I came up on the plane. I got here at quarter-past twelve, and I’ve been sitting in this lobby ever since.” I said, “That’s too bad. Why didn’t you go to your hotel and leave a message for me to call you?”
“Because you wouldn’t have called,” she snapped. “And anyway, I wanted to talk with you before you had a chance to—to—”
“Think things over,” I finished.
Bertha said. “Where is there a cocktail bar around here?”
“A couple of blocks down the street.”
“All right, let’s go.” San Francisco’s invigorating fog gave the air a snappy tang. Bertha Cool, with her chin up, her shoulders back, strode along the street with a lusty swing to her legs and shoulders. She was so mad she couldn’t even see where she was going. Twice in the two blocks she started to plough through intersection signals. I had to grab her arm to keep her from getting run over or arrested.
We settled down in a cocktail bar. Bertha ordered a double brandy. I had a Scotch and soda. Bertha said over the drink, “Well, you called the turn.”
“On what?”
“On everything,” she admitted. “The insurance people were very, very sympathetic. They couldn’t pay the double indemnity because the death wasn’t by accidental means, but they didn’t want to keep the widow from getting he
r money right away. They kept waving a cheque for forty thousand under her nose. They told her she could accept it without prejudicing her rights to sue for the other forty—if she wanted to. They suggested she go see a lawyer.”
“Then what?”
“She went to see her lawyer. Her lawyer told her she was licked before she started. There’s a rumour now that Dr. Devarest had robbed his own safe and that he committed suicide when he thought that they were going to catch up with him. He was a sick man, anyway.”
“Tell me more about that suicide theory.”
“Well, there wasn’t anything on the motor which needed fixing. It was running like a clock. There weren’t any of his fingerprints on the wrench or on anything on the motor—only on the hood. It looks as though he tried to take the easy way out, and spare his wife’s feelings by making it look like an accident.”
“Find the Starr girl?” I asked.
“She didn’t make a claim at the Auto Club until yesterday.
Then I—well, I didn’t do anything about it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think Mrs. Devarest wants to find her particularly.”
“Why not?”
“I think that girl and the doctor—well, there was something between them.”
“Who told you so?”
“Mrs. Devarest. She’d been picking up a little gossip. She said that it would be a lot better to let bygones be bygones.
The funeral was yesterday.”
“That’s interesting, isn’t it?” I asked.
She said, “Damn you!” I raised my eyebrows. “What’s the matter?” She said, “I’ve been to the best lawyers in the city. I’ve paid out fifty dollars for two legal opinions, twenty-five dollars a shot.”
“Did you indeed? Why? I don’t get it.” Bertha Cool said, “The lawyers looked up the decisions, went over the facts carefully, and said Mrs. Devarest hasn’t a leg to stand on. Even if the death wasn’t suicide, but was accidental, it wasn’t by accidental means, just the way you pointed out. Mrs. Devarest has seen her own lawyer. He thought at first she had a case, then after he looked it up he said she didn’t. Mrs. Devarest would pay half of that forty thousand to collect it.”
“Is that so?” Bertha flared into indignation. “Locked away in that ball-bearing brain of yours is some scheme by which she could collect that money. I’ll bet she’d give seventy-five per cent. of it to collect it. She’s so mad at the insurance people. Dr. Devarest always thought the policy provided for accidental death. She did, too. The insurance people are nice and sympathetic. They’re so sorry. They’d like to pay—if they could. But you see it’s a standard policy used by insurance people everywhere. They can’t pay off under the circumstances. It’d be illegal.” I finished my Scotch and soda. “You know, San Francisco is a grand place,” I said. “I think I’m going to like it.”
“Like it, hell!” Bertha said. “You’re coming back to pull this chestnut out of the fire for me.”
“No. I’ve got a pretty good prospect up here, and ”
“You’re coming back with Bertha,” she said firmly. “I must have been crazy to let you go. I’ve grown to depend on you so much, I can’t run the business without you now.” I said, “No, Bertha, I don’t think you’d be happy in a full partnership. You wouldn’t get along well with a partner. You’re too much of an individualist. You’re too accustomed to having your own way. You like to carry the power of decision around with you.” Bertha said grimly, “That’s where I’m going to fool you. I’ve thought this thing all out. This is your proposition. I’m going to take you up on it, and there’s going to be one condition.”
“What?”
“I’m going to be free to come and go as I please. You can hire anyone you want to do the work. I’m going to keep on fishing.”
“Why the sudden love for the fish?” I asked.
“Thinking about Dr. Devarest,” she said. “I went to his funeral. The poor guy had worked day and night. His nose had worn a groove in the grindstone. If he’d taken life a little easier, had relaxed once in a while, done a little more fishing, he’d have lived a lot longer. If he could have looked ahead, he’d have let some of those rich patients of his go jump in the lake, while he spent more time in the o open.
“I used to be too fat to take any exercise. I felt like the devil all the time, but I was always ravenously hungry. Then I got sick and lost that weight, and when I got my strength back, I found I got a kick out of outdoor exercise. Now, I’m hard as nails, eat what I want to, and am holding my weight right where it is. You’re young. You’re naturally light. You don’t have to worry about getting fat. You’re going to stay in there and work. Bertha is going to fish. Now then, do you want that partnership or don’t you?” I grinned at her and said, “You may as well pay for the drinks, Bertha, because as a partner I’d put it on the expense account, anyway.” Bertha stared at me with hard, glittering eyes. She said, “You little devil! That’s just what you would do, too!”
“It’s exactly what I’m going to do from now on,” I told her. “We may as well understand it at the start.” Bertha almost threw her purse in my face. She’d reconciled herself to the partnership idea, but the thought of having me buy drinks and put them on an expense account was the last straw.
“You know me,” I said soothingly. “I haven’t any idea of the value of money. I go around tossing it to the birdies.” Bertha glowered at me for what seemed like thirty seconds, then she took a deep breath, slowly and reluctantly opened her purse, took out a five-dollar bill, and called, “Oh, waiter! ” To me she said, “If I pay for it myself, I’ll at least save fifty per cent. on the tip.”
“We will,” I corrected.
Her hard little eyes snapped angrily, but she didn’t say anything.
Chapter VI
MRS. DEVAREST said, “I’m glad you’re back on the job, Mr. Lam. Of course, I like your partner, but somehow I have more confidence in you. Perhaps it was because Hilton picked you out.” She was dressed in black. Her face was without make-up, and her pop eyes seemed particularly mournful.
“Exactly what do you want done?” I asked.
She said, “Mrs. Cool said that you could find a way to make the insurance company pay that double indemnity clause.” I explained. “Insurance companies are regulated by law. They can’t pay out on those claims unless the facts show a clear liability.”
“I found that out,” she said.
“I wouldn’t want to try it unless everything else had failed.”
“Well, everything’s failed. Look here, Mr. Lam, I’ll give you one-half of any amount you can recover from the insurance company.”
“It might take a lawsuit.”
“Well, I’ll give you one-half of whatever I get out of it after we make arrangements with the lawyer.”
“That might be too much.”
“That’ll suit me if it suits you.”
“I’ll see what can be done.”
“And,” she said, “I’ll pay you regular wages to prove that my husband didn’t steal those stones and didn’t commit suicide. If he stole them, where are they now? It’s absurd.”
“No one else had the combination to the safe?”
“Not so far as we know; but someone must have. That’s a fine safe. It couldn’t have been opened without a combination. Look here, there’s one thing I want understood. I don’t want you to turn up any scandal in connection with my dead husband.”
“If I start digging up evidence, I can’t tell what I’m going to find. I’ll have to just go right ahead digging it up.”
“You wouldn’t need to report everything you found, would you?”
“No.”
“Well, go right ahead and dig.”
“You think there’s something you’d prefer not to have reported to you?” She said, “Hilton was a good husband, kind, gentle, and considerate. I suppose, though, he wasn’t any better than most men. If you ask me, you can’t trust any of them.” She favoured me w
ith an arch smile.
“I’ll start looking around,” I said.
“And Nadine wants to see you.”
“Where is she?”
“You’ll find her in the nursery with Selma.”
“Okay, I’ll go look her up.”
“And you’ll really go to work on this, won’t you, Mr. Lam?”
“I’ll try.
“That’s fine.”
“By the way, how about the safe? Have you had it opened —since your husband’s death?”
“Yes. We found some cryptic figures in his notebook. My lawyer suggested we send for a safe man to help us out. The safe expert worked out the combination to the safe from that list of figures that was in the notebook.”
“Then you’ve gone through it—the safe?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What was in it?”
“Just the insurance policies and a notebook in which Hilton had kept a complete record of his own case from the time it had first developed. Poor man, he thought he could at least keep some data that would be of benefit to the profession. I don’t think it was really very serious—that is, I think he could have—well, if he’d taken care of himself and hadn’t kept driving himself day and night, he could have fought it off. Held it in check, you know. It might have been years and years before it got bad enough to take him off.”
“I see.” She said, “My lawyer has fixed up an agreement with the insurance company by which they pay the forty thousand. There isn’t any prejudice against our side of the case, because we accept it. We can go ahead and try to collect the rest any time.”
“Okay.”
“And you won’t forget to see Nadine?”
“I’m on my way.” She smiled at me and said, “I don’t know what it is about you, Mr Lam, that inspires me with such a feeling of confidence.”
“Thank you.” I found Nadine Croy in the nursery. It was the first time I’d seen Selma. She had her mother’s eyes, an easy, good-natured smile that brought dimples into both cheeks.
Mrs. Croy said, “This is Mr. Lam, sweetheart.” Selma toddled across the room to give me her hand. “How do you do,” she said, speaking slowly, distinctly, and with each word accented precisely.
“Very well, thank you, and how are you?”
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