Murder Up My Sleeve by Gardner Erle Stanley

Author:Gardner, Erle Stanley [Gardner, Erle Stanley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1937-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

WHEN he was half a dozen blocks from the apartment house where Vera Matthews had her studio, Terry pulled his car into the curb and shut off the motor. Various disjointed bits of information were flying around loose in his brain and he wanted time to correlate those detached impressions.

Seated there in his car, with the motor running, Terry fixed his eyes on the lighted speedometer, and brought his mind to focus upon the facts in his possession, Patiently he went over the events of the day, only to convince himself in the end that some important fact was being withheld from him.

Cynthia Renton had painted Mandra’s portrait. A combination of blackmail and fascination had bound her to Mandra, But, regardless of the tie, Cynthia would only go so far, then she would fight free.

And that turning point had evidently been reached at two o’clock in the morning, when Cynthia had taken her portrait and left Mandra’s apartment, doubtless defying him to do his worst. She had been seen on the stairs by a witness…but had she been seen? The witness had observed only a woman carrying a portrait. Yet the por trait was distinctive enough, and it was only natural that Cynthia should have taken it to Alma, for appraisal.

But why should Alma have put finishing touches on Cynthia’s portrait? An artist of Cynthia’s individuality would hardly care to have some other painter interfering. Then there was the physical disposition of the portrait to be considered.

Alma had arranged with Levering to have that portrait taken to her apartment. In some way it had been diverted to Juanita Mandra’s apartment. Had Levering delivered the portrait to Juanita? Or had the police taken it from Alma’s apartment and subsequently surrendered it to the widow? One explanation would mean a connection between Levering and the widow of the murdered man: the other that Juanita and Malloy were working hand-in-glove. Or…

Clane’s mind suddenly realized a disquieting solution. He stared in frowning perplexity, then abruptly reached for the ignition switch of his car.

He realized now, only too clearly, the necessity of finding out just who had killed Mandra. Cynthia’s story might give her a brief respite but would eventually leave her hopelessly entangled. Clane drove his car through traffic with a certain savage insistence which made others instinctively yield the right of way at the crossings. He parked his car at the curb in front of his apartment house, and recognized Cynthia’s convertible coupe some hundred feet-ahead. As Terry stepped to the curb the horn was tapped into brief noise.

Terry nodded his head, to indicate that he had heard the signal, but did not go at once to the car. He strolled to the lobby entrance of his apartment house, then as though he had forgotten something, turned on his heel, walked quickly to his own car and then down to where Cynthia was waiting. He pulled open the door of the car, and encountered Cynthia’s upturned nose, smiling lips and flashing eyes.

“Well, Owl,” she said, “let’s shout.

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