Henry Gamadge 11 The Wrong Way Down by Elizabeth Daly

Author:Elizabeth Daly [Daly, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937384746
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2013-06-10T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Out From Under

GAMADGE’S FAVORITE CLUB, a small but rather famous one, had its quarters in a remodeled private house behind Gamadge’s own, on the next street South. The clubhouse had been planned and finished inside and out by a master, long since dead. As Gamadge’s grandfather had been a charter member, and as he and Gamadge’s father had done an immense amount of thankless work for it on committees and boards, a privilege had been granted them and extended to Gamadge himself—the privilege of a connecting gate between the club’s rear premises and the Gamadge back yard.

Gamadge used this gate tonight. He garaged his car in the private building adjoining the clubhouse, and retaining his keys in his hand, went up the white front steps. The night porter let him in—a grandfatherly person in dark blue.

“I’m just taking the short cut home, Parsons.”

“Yes, sir.” Parsons never even thought questions about a member’s activities—much less asked them.

He saw Gamadge along the black-and-white marble pavement of the hall, through to the terrace, and watched him down the steps and past the bare shrubs and trimmed evergreens to the green gate in the white fence.

“Got your key, sir?”

“I always have my key.” It was the only one. Gamadge would have been as likely to lose his car key, his latchkey, or the key to his safe deposit box.

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Parsons. Thank you.”

“’kyou, sir.” Parsons had come from the land of good clubs, and knew how to talk.

Gamadge went through into his wintry garden, locked the gate after him, and found his way to the basement door. He had no key to this, and was forced to pound on it.

Old Theodore, sketchily clad, peeped out at him and then grudgingly opened the door just wide enough for Gamadge to come in.

“You didn’t tell me you’re goin’ play cards all night,” grumbled Theodore. “What’s the use of a gate key and no door key?”

“I didn’t know I was going to play cards all night.” Gamadge climbed the stairs to the first floor. Harold met him at the door of the laboratory.

“Hello,” he said. “Back way?”

“Well, after all, somebody did show signs of wanting my blood.”

“That’s so.”

“I don’t want any more shooting.”

“Regular war, is it?”

“To the knife, I should say. Shouldn’t you?”

They went into the laboratory and sat down at the table where Harold had been working at some mathematical formulae. Gamadge described the events of the night since they had parted two hours earlier. It was now ten minutes of two.

When he had finished, Harold said: “Bowles and Spiker on the loose. Why shoot you? Why shoot you?”

“Did we ever know?”

“Of course without you there’d be no first-hand witness to what Miss Paxton said about the picture.”

“There’s that.”

“It always goes back to the picture.” Harold smiled. “I put it up on the mantelpiece in the library. Like to look at it.”

“It’s a nice thing.”

“Funny case. Funny collection of people.”

“Yes. Know how I feel about it?”

“Stumped.”

“I feel as if every step I took was a step down.

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