Double or Quits

by Erle Stanley Gardner

  “When did you get those hairs out of the brush?”

  “When I got you to go to the closet to check up on that scarf. You didn’t do so good on that, you know—picking a scarf up out of the automobile and taking it to your bedroom to find out to whom it belonged.”

  “I should have taken it out of the bedroom,” he admitted. “You should.”

  “Would tonight be all right?”

  “If it isn’t after midnight.” He said, “I don’t know just what’s going to be going on.”

  “I want to get some barometric data. I think there’s going to be another east wind tonight. The sky’s a black blue. You can see the mountains standing out almost in your front yard.”

  “That’s right. There’s lots of electricity in my hair. I can usually tell from that.”

  “Been brushing it?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “With the brush on the dressing-table?” He grinned and said, “No. The other one.” I said, “I’m ringing up the weather bureau a little later on. If there’s going to be an east wind tonight, you might have plenty of chances to move around.”

  “What’s the east wind got to do with it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about Dr. Devarest’s death. If he didn’t have the garage door all the way up when he drove in, a sudden gust of wind could have blown it shut.”

  “What difference does it make how the door got closed?”

  “Only forty thousand dollars.”

  “How come?”

  “A sudden gust of wind of unusual severity would have been an accidental means within the meaning of the insurance policy.”

  “I’m not certain I get you, buddy.”

  “I’m not certain I’m supposed to tell you, anyway.”

  “Then why open it up?”

  “Because it might mean you’d have lots of chances to move around.”

  “Okay, buddy. I’ll see what I can do. It’s a deal.”

  “Not a deal. I was just telling you something I wanted.”

  “If it’s like that, what’s to keep you from wanting something else later on?” I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Nothing.”

  “You drive a hard bargain. You know, buddy, if I was in the life insurance business, I think I’d cancel you out as a bad risk.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to pay any losses on my policy—up to now.”

  “Up to now,” he repeated, as though turning over the effect of the words in his mind.

  “By midnight tonight then,” I said, and walked away.

  I walked across from the garage over to the back door of the house. There was a small brass sign marked “TRADESMEN.” Under it was a bell. I pushed the bell button. After a while, Jeannette, the maid, opened the door wearing that expression of haughty disdain which the servants of a wealthy family assume for house-to-house solicitors.

  I could see the expression change. Surprise—a flicker of fear perhaps—then red lips parting to show some pretty nice teeth.

  “Oh, it’s you!” Her voice indicated she was glad.“Mrs. Devarest home?” She pouted. “Did you want to see her?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You don’t have to come to the back door to see her. I thought—perhaps you wanted to see someone else.” She lowered her lids until her long lashes showed to advantage against her cheeks, then snapped her eyes open, and glanced at me coquettishly.

  I said, “I did.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is anyone in Miss Starr’s room?”

  “No.”

  “I want to take another look at it.”

  “Will you come this way, please.” She was very efficient as she guided me through the kitchen and into the wing which contained the servants’ rooms, but after I entered the room Nollie Starr had occupied, she followed me in, closed the door, and stood with her back against it, her eyes taking in every move I made.

  “Was there anything else you wanted?”

  “No.” Her eyes followed me as I looked around the room.

  “Of course, I’m not supposed to know what’s going on,” she said, “but—are you getting anywhere?”

  “I think so.”

  “Didn’t you—didn’t I see you going up to Rufus Bayley’s rooms over the garage?”

  “You may have.”

  “Are you—I mean have you been ” I grinned and said, “Yes.” She coloured and lowered her eyes.

  “Who makes the beds?” I asked.

  “He makes his own.”

  “I don’t mean Bayley’s. I mean down here.”

  “Oh, the housekeeper.” I said, “Nollie Starr left on Tuesday. On Wednesday, Dr. Devarest called me in. Wednesday evening I came down to look this room over. I found the alarm clock wound. I wonder if the bed had been slept in. You didn’t see Miss Starr come back here Tuesday night, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Or know that she occupied her room?” She was fidgeting now. “No,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “You don’t know who slept in her room?”

  “No.” She raised her eyes to mine, lowered them. She walked over to stand beside me, put her hand on my arm. Her touch was a caressing gesture. “Did Rufus say anything—about me?”

  “Why should he?” She was standing close to me now, still holding my arm. I could feel the rounded curve of her breast against my biceps. She said, “Things get terribly dull for us here. We are only permitted to go out one night a week. When we know we’re not going to be wanted, we—well, we have our good times together, sometimes a little to drink, and—well you know how it is.”

  “So what?”

  “Don’t tell Mrs. Devarest everything you find out.”

  “Why not?” Her eyes met mine steadily. “Because she’s absolutely crazy about Rufus, and she’s insanely jealous.”

  “How about Nollie Starr? Did she get in on any of your parties?”

  “No. She wasn’t exactly one of us.” I said, “I’m going in to see Mrs. Devarest.”

  “The doctor’s in there.”

  “Dr. Gelderfield?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long’s he been treating her?”

  “Oh, a year or so. Dr. Devarest was treating Dr. Gelderfield’s father, so he called Dr. Gelderfield for his wife.”

  “And Nollie Starr didn’t mix in on your parties?”

  “No.”

  “But she found it rather tedious being chained to the house six nights a week?”

  “I don’t know. I never discussed it with her.”

  “What did she do in the evenings?” Jeannette tried to avoid my eyes and the question.

  “What did she do in the evenings?” I repeated. “Where did she spend her time?”

  “In her room, I guess.”

  “Did you ever see her light here?”

  “Oh, yes—sometimes.”

  “Mrs. Devarest usually retired early?”

  “Yes. There’s something wrong with her heart. Dr. Gelderfield’s been quite worried.”

  “He’s in with her now?” She nodded.

  “I’m going in.” She kept clinging to my arm. “You won’t say anything to Mrs. Devarest about—about me?”

  “What is there to say?” She couldn’t think of the answer to that one. I gently freed my arm and left the room.

  Dr. Gelderfield was sitting in the library with Mrs. Devarest. He’d ordered a wheel chair for her. She was sitting in it, enjoying being an invalid. They looked up as I came in.

  Mrs. Devarest said, “Why, Donald, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I’ve been around for a while.” Dr. Gelderfield said, “Well, I must be going, Colette. I don’t think there’s anything you need be alarmed about, only keep quiet and ring me up if the medicine doesn’t help.”

  “You’re so considerate, Warren. I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you.” He said, “I only wish there was more I could do. You don’t realize how much Hilton did for me.” He turned to me and said, “I think that attitude of the insurance
company is the damnedest thing I ever encountered. How are you doing, Lam?”

  “Making progress.” Dr. Gelderfield turned so that Mrs. Devarest could only see the left side of his face. He said, “Mrs. Devarest has had a nervous shock. She’s recovering very nicely, but I don’t want anything to happen that would undo the good we’re accomplishing.” His right eye closed in a slow wink, then he jerked his head toward the door.

  Mrs. Devarest smiled and said, “Don’t make Donald think I’m decrepit, Warren.” She arched a smile and waited for my compliment.

  I said, “I had always assumed you were Dr. Devarest’s second wife because you looked so much younger. I only found out recently that there had only been one Mrs. Devarest.”

  “Donald, are you flattering me?”

  “Simply stating a fact, my dear,” Dr. Gelderfield said. “Well, I must be on my way. By the way, Lam, how did you come out? On the streetcar?” Once more his eye closed in a slow wink.

  “Yes.”

  “Going my way? I’ll give you a lift.” I said, “That will be fine.”

  “But, Donald, didn’t you have something to report?” I nodded.

  She said, “Go right ahead. I have no secrets from my physician.” He laughed and said, “Few patients do, but lots of them think they have.” I said, “I think there’s going to be an east wind tonight.”

  “Well?” I said, “You’ll remember the night Dr. Devarest died there was one of those desert east winds that came sweeping down to strike with a blast.”

  “Well, what’s that got to do with it?” I said, “There are counterweights on those doors to make it easy to raise and lower them. The door through which Dr.

  Devarest drove his car had a rope that was supposed to hang down from a lever on the inside of the garage, so that, if necessary, the door could be closed from the inside of the garage. That rope was tangled up so it couldn’t be reached. That fact shows very plainly in the photographs.”

  “You’ve mentioned something like that before, Donald. What does it mean?” I said, “It means either that Dr. Devarest opened the garage door, drove into the garage, walked out, closed the garage door, opened one of the other doors enough to go into the garage, and then started tinkering with his motor; or it means that when he raised the door to drive in, he knew there wasn’t any rope by which he could pull it closed. That might mean he didn’t open the door all the way.”

  “But he’d have to,” Mrs. Devarest said. “Those doors slide up and down and ”

  “No. There’s a point of balance at which the counterweight just equally balances the weight of the door, and if you put the door in that position, it will stay there.”

  “Have you experimented?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what’s your theory?” Dr. Gelderfield asked.

  I said, “The east wind struck with considerable violence. The door was on a point of balance. The wind upset that balance and blew the door shut.”

  “I don’t see what difference that makes,” Mrs. Devarest said. “What do we care how it got shut?”

  “Because in one case the means of death weren’t accidental. In another, they were.”

  “You mean the wind would be ”

  “An accidental means,” I said.

  Gelderfield said, “I’m afraid I don’t get you.”

  “In the one instance,” I pointed out, “every factor that contributed to his death was set in motion by the decedent. In the other event, a sudden, unusual gust of wind furnished an intervening cause.”

  “You mean you could stick the insurance company?”

  “Exactly.” Dr. Gelderfield was excited. “How would you go about doing it?” I said, “I’m waiting for another east wind. I think there’s going to be one tonight. I’ve telephoned the weather bureau. It thinks so too.”

  “And you’ll conduct an experiment?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Devarest said, “Won’t that be wonderful if ” Dr. Gelderfield regarded her with professional concentration. “I’m not certain you should be there, Colette. It would be rather exciting—something of a strain. And if there should be a disappointment—if the wind isn’t strong enough to blow the door—well, that would be quite a let-down.”

  “Oh, Warren, I want to be there.” Dr. Gelderfield looked at his watch. “Well—what time do you intend to make this experiment, Lam?”

  “Whenever the east wind strikes. I can get a report from the weather bureau which will fix the time within half an hour or so.” Dr. Gelderfield gnawed at his upper lip. “Very well,” he said, suddenly reaching a decision. “I’ll try and be here. If I’m here, Colette, you can watch the experiment from your wheel chair. If I’m not, you’d better learn what happens from some of the others. Remember now—no stairs!” She pouted archly at him. “I want to see it, Warren.”

  “Have you any idea what time the wind will strike, Lam?” he asked.

  “The weather bureau thinks about nine o’clock.”

  “I’ll try and make it,” Gelderfield said with his most magnetic professional smile. Then he turned to me. “All ready, Lam—if you are.” I followed him out to his car.

  “Where’s your bus parked?”

  “About a block away.”

  “I didn’t see it here as I drove up.”

  “I seldom leave it in front of the house. I just wanted to tell you something about Colette’s condition. She thinks it’s merely a nerve shock. It’s more serious.”

  “How serious?” I asked.

  He said, “Dr. Devarest didn’t want her told.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He said somewhat sternly: “It’s a matter that needn’t concern you. I simply wanted you to know the general situation. I don’t want her to have any severe shock. If you find anything that might be startling or which might make her angry you’d better tell me before you break the news to her, and let me pick an auspicious moment—from a physical standpoint, I mean.”

  “What do you mean—anything which might make her mad?” He met my eyes. “The fact that Dr. Devarest was leading a double life.”

  “Do you know such was the case?”

  “I rather suspected.”

  “And have for some time?” I asked.

  “That also,” he said, “is a matter that lies entirely outside the scope of your inquiry. I’ll telephone the weather bureau and keep posted. If I’m there she may watch the test, but under no circumstances is she to do so unless I am there. I may have to give her a hypodermic rather quickly.”

  “That about making her angry,” I said. “Does that apply to anything other than news of her husband’s philandering?” He got into his automobile, drew on his driving gloves. “Anger would be the worst thing on earth for her. Worry would be next to it. Those two mental states must be avoided at any cost.”

  “Jubilation?” I asked. “Triumph? Or ”

  “Anger and worry,” he said. “I’m trying to protect her as much as I can. I’m looking to you to help.”

  “There’s no chance of effecting a permanent cure?” I asked.

  He met my eyes. “I see no reason for telling you anything except that she is to be spared anger and worry. If you uncover anything about Dr. Devarest’s affairs, you had better come to me. I think you understand the situation. Good-day.”

  “I’ll see you later?”

  “I’m going to try to make it.”

  “She wants to be there to see what happens.”

  “I’m not certain that I want her there, certainly not unless I’m on the job.”

  “When this east wind strikes, I have to be ready. I can’t postpone it.”

  “I understand.”

  “How well,” I asked, “did you know Dr. Devarest?” His eyes searched mine. “Why do you ask?”

  “Getting back to that double life idea,” I said.

  “What about it?”

  “Did you have Nollie Starr in mind as the third point in the triangle?” He thought that over for several seconds, then said
simply, “Yes.”

  “And you know something which makes that conclusion seem logical?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” He shook his head.

  I said, “It might be important.”

  “Doubtless it is,” he said dryly.

  “Look here, Doctor, there’s no use fencing at arm’s length. Either we’re working on the same side of the case, or we’re not. It looks to me as though we are.”

  “Well?”

  “You’re rather uncommunicative.”

  “I see no reason for telling you anything other than what I already have.” I said, “All right, I’ll tell you. I’ve found Nollie Starr. She’s at six-eighty-one East Bendon Street. The apartment’s under the name of Dorothy Grail. I went up to call on her. I found Jim Timley there. I think Timley is sweet on Nollie Starr. They tried to make it look as though Dorothy Grailwas the one he was interested in. Now does that mean anything to you?” Dr. Gelderfield closed his eyes as though to shut me out of his mind while he gave the matter consideration. After a few moments he said, “It might,” then added, “I sincerely hope so.” I said, “The way I look at it, if Timley, who is under Mrs. Devarest’s thumb, took a healthy interest in Nollie Starr, the domestic situation might have become complicated. There’s a possibility Dr. Devarest was wise to the situation, knew what was going on, and approved of it.” Dr. Gelderfield said in a sudden burst of confidence, with relief in his voice, “My God, Lam, I hope you’re right! All I know is that Devarest was supposed to have been at the hospital at six o’clock on an appendicitis operation. He wasn’t there. I happened to have been at the hospital myself on an emergency, and know he wasn’t in. About seven o’clock I was driving past one of the parks, and I saw Devarest and Nollie Starr playing tennis. Neither one of them saw me. I thought perhaps—well, that it might have been the windup of a party that had started quite a bit earlier.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “A couple of times, Dr. Devarest mentioned that he had been called out at night, and the little notebook in which he kept notations for his professional charges didn’t show that he had made any visits.”

  “Now you’re getting close to something that I want.”

  “What?”