“Yes, I know,” she said. “So Mr. Duff said.” She smiled graciously, but their greeting included no caress.
“Where were you, darling?”
“Repairing the henhouse,” she told him. Duff realized, now, that she spoke as an executive, as a superintendent. Somebody had been repairing the henhouse under her direction.
“Did they tell you?” Eve Meredith was what is known as a bundle of nerves, tied together with a twitching skin. “Oh, Constance, isn’t it awful! Dinny, darling, how are you? It must have been just terrible for you. Just terrible. You poor child!”
She clung to Dinny a moment. Dinny looked stoical about it. Duff thought to himself that he understood why this one of Mary’s friends had not been asked to stay with the children. Her auburn eyes scurried from face to face. She sat down and held herself together with her arms.
Duff blended himself into the upholstery in a way he had and prepared to listen, taking notes. Dr. Christenson, one saw, was humble before his love. He looked at her constantly. He spoke to her as if he were sweeping the dust before her feet with the plumes on his hat. Miss Avery preened herself, somewhat, in the warmth of this devotion. He had received the accolade. But not Eve. Eve had no caste. Eve was being kindly tolerated, and Eve didn’t resent it. Eve was too nervous and strung up to notice much.
It was not long before their stock of exclamations, their little civilized cries of horror and concern, died away. Duff, in his chair, loomed in their consciousness. They turned to him and seemed to wait.
“How is Taffy?” Duff inquired.
“Much better. Much better. She’ll be all right.”
“Aw, the darling,” Dinny murmured, and Duff smiled at her.
“Have you—er—?” The doctor didn’t finish the question, as usual. He had a way of opening his eyes very wide behind his glasses and looking earnestly at him whom he questioned, a mannerism that substituted for words.
“Oh, yes, we’ve been talking,” said Duff amiably. “I wish you would tell me what you know about Miss Brown.”
“I expect I know all about her,” the doctor said, as if this surprised him. “She was an old friend of Mary’s and mine, too. That is, I’ve known her ever since she first began to come to see Mary. Brownie was all right. Good sport, you know. She never married. Had a private income, was able to do pretty much what she liked. Not that she did much, traveled around, visited. She was a good soul.”
“She held the mortgage here?”
The doctor looked startled. “Yes, yes, she did. Just to be kind. That was the sort of thing she would do. Never pressed Mary, if Mary had any difficulty. Friendly arrangement, really. Although, of course, it was perfectly businesslike, too.”
Dinny looked a little skeptical. When she saw Duff had noticed and was waiting for her comment, she said, “Well, she wasn’t so darned businesslike. Sometimes she’d tell Mother there was no hurry or don’t bother and just wouldn’t take the money, and then again she’d say she expected it right away. Mother wished she’d be businesslike.”
“Maybe she was a little bit female,” the doctor said with half a laugh. “But a good soul. As a matter of fact, she loaned me money, too, long ago. When I was setting myself up in a new set of offices and needed it.”
“Did she really?” said Constance remotely.
“Oh, yes. Yes, she did. Poor soul. It was good of her. Furthermore, I’ve paid interest on it ever since, but never the principal. I suppose I owe it to her estate.”
“Who are her heirs?” Duff asked.
“I don’t believe I know. She has no relatives left, that I ever heard of.”
“She had a snapshot of you as a baby?” Duff said delicately.
The doctor squirmed. “Oh, Lord, yes, of course she did. She swiped it out of a boxful of old stuff I had. That was the sort of thing, the sort of joke, that appealed to Brownie. Do you know what I mean?”
“A lumbering sort of joke,” murmured Duff, and the doctor looked satisfied.
Eve Meredith had not uttered a word, but every hair on her head looked furious. Duff turned to her.
“Mrs. Meredith, you knew Miss Brown, too, did you not?”
“Of course I did,” she snapped. “I didn’t like her.” One felt that, because she was so nervous, Eve was bound to be indiscreet and blurt things out. Every so often she would make a remark that seemed like an explosion, forcing its way through a too rigid control that failed to control at all. She exploded now. “As a matter of fact, I never set foot in Mary’s house while Brownie was here.”
“Why not?” said Duff.
“Because I didn’t like her,” Eve repeated stubbornly. “She and Mary and I all went to the same school, years ago. Years ago.”
Duff asked what school, and she told him, rubbing her neck with one hand as if something had been choking her. “It’s eleven o’clock,” she said. “I’m going to turn on the news … just low.”
“Oh, Eve, not now,” the doctor begged. “There won’t be any.”
“I’ve got to know,” said Eve. “No, don’t let me bother you. I’ll turn it low. But I’ve got to listen.”
She moved jerkily to the far corner where Mary’s little table radio stood. She bent over it, and in a moment the familiar cadences of the newscaster came softly forth.
The doctor said to Duff, “Eve’s boy is a Marine. She thinks there’s going to be another landing any day now.”
“She’s much too anxious,” said Constance righteously. Constance was smoking one cigarette after another in a ladylike disdain, sitting very straight for one who sat on a soft sofa. The doctor sprawled next to her. He looked helpless and tired.
Duff said to him, “I wish you would tell me what you know about the goings-on in this house today. When were you here?”
“Mary called me about … oh, three-thirty or four o’clock. Told me Taffy was upset. I was busy as the dickens. For some reason, people seem to feel sicker on the Sabbath. Well, I told her what to do, make Taffy as comfortable as possible. Said I’d get here as quick as I could. Got here, finally, about six. Looked like rain, then, I remember. Went up and had a look at her.”
“Who let you in?”
“Nobody. I walked in. I make pretty free of this house, you know. Dinny heard me and shouted, ‘Hello.’ Well, Mary and I talked about Taffy—”
“Where was Miss Brown?”
“She was on the terrace, then,” put in Dinny, “but she must have heard his car or me yelling, because she went upstairs.”
“Yes, she did. That’s right,” said the doctor. “I went across to Mary’s desk to write a prescription. Brownie came in, said a few words—”
“What words? Do you remember?”
“Oh, greetings.” The doctor put a cigarette in his holder. “I hadn’t seen her for about six months, you see. Spoke to her on the phone, yesterday, welcome and all that. Made a date for tonight. I was anxious for her to meet Constance.” Constance let him have a chilly smile.
“Anyhow,” continued the doctor, “she asked about Taffy—what was the matter …”
“What was the matter?”
The doctor shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” he said smoothly. “We often don’t ever know, with these little ones. Let me see. Then Mary came in and told Brownie she’d better go ahead with supper. Brownie went away.”
“Downstairs?”
“I really don’t know. I imagine so.”
“But you saw her again?”
“Oh, yes, certainly. I came down myself in a minute or two. It occurred to me, then, that with Taffy upset it might be better to call off the evening we had planned, so I tried to call Constance.”
“When was that, Norry?” Constance asked him.
“Little before six-thirty, or a little after.”
“I was very late,” she sighed. “You know how I am when I’m interested.”
“Then?”
“Brownie had heard me and came out of the dining room—”
“With a wine glass in
her hand?”
“Yes, yes …”
“And offered you some?”
“Oh, you know that? Yes, she did. She always claimed it was a great tonic, you know, and I rather—er—kidded her about that. It was a little joke. Oh, I sipped it.”
“It tasted …?”
“All right.” He shrugged again.
“Then?”
“Oh, Dinny went up with a tray … let me see … Mary called down, something about the food …”
“Would Brownie like some bacon,” prompted Dinny.
“Yes. Yes, that was it Well, then I left. Said good-by, see you later, and so forth.” The doctor waved his hand. “I had got as far as the front door—”
“Yes, I know,” murmured Duff. “You then brought her into this room, and shortly thereafter she died.”
“Yes.”
Constance’s nostrils dilated. She held her head a little higher as if she defied the late presence of death.
“Then?”
“Well, I realized … something was wrong. Knew I’d have to call in the coroner. I told everybody to stay away from the food—”
“Did you turn off the toaster?”
“What?”
“The toaster that was set up on the dining room table?”
“Oh. No. No, I did not. Didn’t go in there at all. In fact, I was immediately busy arranging to get Taffy to the hospital. I called there. I also called the police and reported what had happened. I went out to my car.”
“Before it began to rain so hard.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Then it did rain hard, and I had to stay where I was.”
“The next,” sighed Duff, “I know. The police arrived, I suppose, soon after we had gone?”
“Oh, almost immediately. Let’s see. Dinny, you were on the stairs when I got back in. And Paul had come indoors, I think. I was talking to them when the police car drove into the drive.”
“I wonder,” said Duff, “who turned off that toaster.”
“It is off, then?”
“Oh, yes. We could see through the glass.”
“I wonder how any of it happened,” said the doctor in sudden depression. “A thing like that. Terrible.”
“Dreadful,” said Constance.
“Why did you send Taffy to the hospital?” said Duff, so abruptly that it had a brutal sound.
“Why … why, she was quite s-sick …” the doctor stuttered.
“Couldn’t she have been sick in her own bed?” inquired Duff silkily. “Really? It doesn’t seem to be serious. It seems to me that Mrs. Mortality was put in a very uncomfortable position, having to leave her children here with things as they are.”
“I was thinking of my patient,” said the doctor with great dignity. “Believe me, little Taffy is better off where she is.”
Eve made a convulsive movement in her corner. The radio was quiet now. She was watching with her strained reddish eyes.
“Oh, yes,” she twittered in unexpected support, “much better. Much better.” She began to twist a ring around and around her finger.
Duff smelled a rat. He said nothing about it, but a shiver crept along his nerves again.
“You have no news yet about what the poison actually was?” he inquired of the doctor.
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“Or where it was,” mused Duff. “The evidence that it was in the wine seems confused.”
“I think it was in the wine.”
“In which bottle?”
“Which bottle! Were there two?”
“Oh, yes. Two bottles of Dubonnet. Just alike. No one knows where the second bottle came from, unless Mrs. Moriarity can say.”
“A bottle of Dubonnet?” said Eve shrilly. “I gave her a bottle of Dubonnet this afternoon.” She came toward them, looking desperate.
“You were here, Mrs. Meredith?”
“No. Brownie came to my house.” The thin woman had thrown her head back, and the cords in her neck were ugly to see.
“Won’t you please sit down and tell me about it?”
She sat down on the very edge of a chair and turned to him her haggard face. “I never came here while she was here, and she never came to see me. But today was different. Mary had to have my ice collar for Taffy. The children weren’t around, or at least, only the baby. Mary asked me for it over the phone. She was welcome, of course. But I had been lying down. I wasn’t dressed. So”—the woman shrugged, and Duff thought her bones would rattle—“she sent Brownie, and Brownie came over. Oh, she came stomping over through the gate.”
“Did you talk with her at all?”
“Hardly at all. Hardly at all. I called down that I was hunting for it. She stayed in my living room. When I brought it down I felt … oh … well … After all, she was in my house. I felt …”
“Conciliatory?” suggested Duff.
“Yes,” said Eve. “Yes, I guess so. I do things impulsively sometimes. I gave her that bottle of wine. I knew she liked it. Gimme a light, Norry.”
The cigarette bobbed in her lips. She took it out and blew a long streamer of smoke. “Well?” she said. “It wasn’t poisoned.”
“How are you sure, Mrs. Meredith?”
“Because I had some of it myself,” she said hoarsely. “Somebody gave it to me, you know. I didn’t buy it. Well, I tried some.” She made a face.
“It had been opened, then, when you gave it to her?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I opened it last week.”
“I see.”
“And it was perfectly all right. I’ll swear to that.” She repeated, “I’ll swear to that”
“Good heavens, Mrs. Meredith, you wouldn’t have given it to her otherwise,” said Constance Avery primly.
Eve quivered and stood up. “That’s all I know,” she said. “I went on duty at the hospital at five-thirty. I’m tired. I’ve got to get some rest.” She looked around and shuddered. “Well, good night. No, don’t come, Norry. It’s just next door, after all. Dinny, darling, if there’s anything I can do …”
Dinny said, gently, her voice suddenly modulated, tactful, grownup, “Oh, Aunt Eve, I don’t think so. We’re fine. I’d come over and stay with you, but I don’t think I’d better leave Davey when Mother isn’t here.”
“No, dear. No, of course not. You’re a sweet thing.”
“Try to sleep,” said Dinny in a motherly fashion. “Just relax, Aunt Eve. Please do.” She seemed very strong and cool and wise, helping the older woman to the door. It was a part. There was something in this odd-looking girl that transcended her appearance. She would be, Duff thought in his prophetic soul, an actress, after all.
Then Duff remembered something. “I have a message for you, Doctor. Somebody who said he was Oliver O’Leary …”
“Yes?”
“Called and wants you to call him as soon as you can.” The doctor did not hurry to the phone. “I hope you know where to find him,” said Duff.
“Oh, yes, of course. Patient of mine. As a matter of fact, he is staying at my house.”
“Oh?” Duff waited, looking as if he didn’t believe a word of it. But no one said anything. Dinny came back from the hall.
“Is there any reason,” said Duff bluntly, “why Mr. O’Leary calls a man, answering the phone from this house, Professor Moriarity?”
“Uh? Professor? Good heavens, I don’t know. O’Leary is a strange fellow. Nervous about himself, you know. Odd. Very odd. Likes to keep in touch. Er … I’ll ask him. Shall I?”
Duff, watching Dinny’s plump hands with the childish ring on one of them, saw that they remained quiet and relaxed. She seemed very politely interested. This was her role, of course.
“It’s getting late,” said Constance.
“Dinny, my child, you go to bed,” said the doctor.
“I want to show Mr. Duff where he’s going to sleep,” she said quietly. “Would you mind being in my room, sir? I think I’d better climb in with the little ones. I assure you, I’d do that anyway.
”
“All right,” said Duff, amused, though he couldn’t help being touched, too. She thought he wouldn’t care for Brownie’s place. “And I know where that is. Thank you, Dinny.”
She said good night in character, in this serene, responsible manner she’d assumed for Eve. Then she let a touch of the child sneak back. “I don’t suppose we’re allowed to get breakfast,” she said wistfully.
“We’ll send out for hamburgers,” Duff told her, and she laughed very gaily, with a soupçon of the sophisticate, and made her exit.
“A sweet girl,” said Dr. Christenson. “A very sweet child. Mary’s children are a fine lot.”
“And such a lot,” said Constance with a little metallic shudder of laughter. “Shall we be going along, Norry?”
“Yes, I think so.” The doctor looked nervously at Duff. “I do hope … I should think …” he blundered. “I was wondering … if you wouldn’t find some evidence that poison had been brought into the house by mistake. Something of that sort? With the children, and all, and the house a little upset. A terrible thing, you know, but …” He stuck.
“Accidental,” Duff finished for him.
“After all, it must have been. It couldn’t have been anything else.”
Miss Avery was putting on her gloves and saying nothing.
Duff looked the doctor in the eye. “What are you afraid of?”
“I?”
“Yes. What is it? What’s bothering you?”
“Mary didn’t …?” The doctor appealed.
“Mary didn’t tell me, if that’s what you mean to ask.”
“Then ask Mary,” the doctor said. “I can’t … really …”
“Come,” said Duff, “if I do ask Mary, you expect her to tell me?”
“Yes. Yes, I … But I don’t like to. Look, Mr. Duff, I think you’re with us on this. Ask Mary about a certain conversation at the breakfast table.”
“This morning?”
“Yes.”
“With Brownie?”
“No, no. She wasn’t up.”
“About Brownie?”
“Yes. Please ask Mary.”
“Mary,” said Duff slowly, “hinted, did she not, that for some reason Brownie was becoming somewhat of a nuisance?”
“She did tell you!” The doctor looked startled again.
The Innocent Flower Page 6
