Henry Gamadge 05 Nothing Can Rescue Me by Elizabeth Daly

Author:Elizabeth Daly [Daly, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937384258
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Percy Rejects an Alibi

When Gamadge entered the drawing-room he found Mason, highball glass in hand, walking back and forth as if for a wager; while Percy, ensconced behind a colossal silver tray, poured himself a cup of tea. As Gamadge approached the sofa Percy uncovered a muffin dish and offered it to him.

“It makes me hungry to be grilled,” he said. “How about you? Or haven’t you been grilled yet?”

“I’ve been grilled.” Gamadge sat down beside him.

Mason stopped in the middle of the room. “What’s all this about my not being allowed to see Florence?” he demanded in a loud voice.

Gamadge, teapot in hand, looked up at him. “I suppose the nurse won’t let her see anybody.”

“I ought to be with her at a time like this. I shall insist on being with her. Nurse? She has two nurses. Aren’t there enough women in the house now without getting in two nurses?”

Percy murmured: “He doesn’t use his head.”

“Use my head? What do you mean?” Mason glared at him. “If somebody in the house has gone crazy and started swinging at us, a man’s better protection for Florence than a trained nurse is.” He drained his glass. “Sally’s the only person around here who ever seemed crazy to me,” he went on, “and I don’t think she’s crazy enough to kill anybody.

Percy remarked to his teacup: “They say you can go mad without knowing it; an eerie notion, and one I never believed in. If I were going mad, I’m sure I should have a nagging suspicion that something was wrong.”

Mason stopped beside a console near the doorway to pour whisky into his glass from a decanter. He said: “I don’t know what’s got into Windorp. I came home from my walk, and the trooper hustled me into the library without telling me a word of what had happened; naturally I refused to answer questions. When I did explain that I’d simply been for my usual hike up-stream, you’d have thought by the way Windorp looked at me that people hadn’t the use of their legs. I’m a walker, always was.” He swallowed the neat whisky in his tumbler at a gulp.

Percy glanced at him over his shoulder. He said: “You need food, not whisky. I understand how you feel, though; it’s a jolt to find oneself being ordered about for the first time since school.”

“Whatever I need,” replied Mason, “I don’t need advice from you—or sympathy, either.”

Percy said, with a faintly humorous look at Gamadge, “Few tears are being shed for poor Sylvanus Hutter. The truth is, one hardly knew him; he was so utterly absorbed in himself and his hobbies that one couldn’t get near him at all. I often think that persons who care exclusively for the inanimate become only half animate themselves.” He added with some annoyance, as Mason resumed his restless pacing: “I don’t know why you should be in this state, I’m sure. If you have no alibi, neither has any of the rest of us.

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