Masters of Noir-- Volume 3 by Wonder Publishing Group

Author:Wonder Publishing Group [Group, Wonder Publishing]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery Anthology, Thriller
Published: 2011-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

6.

Anger and well-being seem to run hand in hand, and as your health improves, so your anger mounts. By the time I was out of the hospital, I was as tense as a piano-wire and fit to bust wide open. First visit was to the Reed mansion where the maid informed me that Mr. and Mrs. Reed weren't home, they were downtown, passports, something like that. I asked her for Uncle Harry's address and she gave it to me.

Uncle Harry lived in an apartment house on Fifth Avenue and Twelfth Street and Uncle Harry was wearing a monocle this trip: purple lounging pajamas, purple slippers, purple dressing gown, and a monocle. His greeting was cool. I asked about developments and he said there were none. Then he said, "Anything else?" And he said it curtly.

"How's Mrs. Reed?"

"She's fine."

"How's she taking the loss of all that dough?"

"She hopes it will be recovered. If it isn't—" he shrugged— "then she writes it down as a loss and it's over. She has had losses before."

"And how's Aunt Ethel?"

"Very well. Now… is there anything else?"

"Don't you like me, Uncle Harry?"

"I neither like you nor dislike you, Mr. Chambers. You are, I trust, a fine young man. But your calling on me is, in essence, an intrusion. We are not friends, and we have nothing in common. You were hired for a purpose, and you served your purpose. Now… is there anything else?"

"Nothing else."

"Then good afternoon, Mr. Chambers."

I went back to the office and sat on my hands. I was wearing a gun now, and turning to look behind me wherever I went. I sat on my hands and waited for a call, but no call came. It burnt me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I'd put in a couple of phone calls to Nickie Darrow but Nickie-boy didn't seem to think I was important enough to call back. I got off my hands and attended to routine but routine was duller than a one-horse race, so I kissed it off. Finally, at six o'clock, I was back at the Reed place on Gramercy Park and this time the maid showed me in. The living room was dimly lit by a couple of lamps and first thing Florence Reed did was raise a finger to her lips; then she pointed. I followed the point to a long lean lad snoozing softly on a couch.

"Abner?" I whispered.

She said, "Yes."

She crooked the finger and I followed her into a smaller room. "He's napping," she said.

"How is he?"

"Very well."

"How's his throat?"

"Coming along fine. Now, is it anything special, Mr. Chambers? Maid tells me you were here earlier in the afternoon."

"No. Nothing special."

Her thin lips grew thinner. "Uncle tells me that you called on him too. I don't quite understand, Mr. Chambers. Is it something about your fee?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

In a sense, she had me there. I said, "I was just wondering if I could be of any help… "

"Help? Oh. Perhaps you don't know.

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