So Many Doors by E.R. Punshon

So Many Doors by E.R. Punshon

Author:E.R. Punshon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2016-11-28T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER XIX

“. . . THE DOUBLE-CROSSING SWINE!”

In Jerry’s small, close-set eyes, barely visible above the rim of his mug of beer, there showed in equal measure surprise, dismay, and fear. Untasted—untasted, which shows the strength of his emotion—he set down his beer. Bobby went over to the bar and gave his own order. Jerry George, abandoning his still-untasted beer, came across to him.

“It is Mr Owen, isn’t it?” he asked, as with a faint, lingering hope that possibly he had been mistaken.

“It is,” agreed Bobby. “Met at Bexley House, didn’t we?”

“That’s right,” Jerry agreed in his turn. “Costing me a fiver.”

“What is?” asked Bobby.

“You,” said Jerry sadly.

“How’s that?” asked Bobby again.

“Fellow bet me half a dollar to a fiver the first person I’d see would be you. Seemed safe. I reckoned you would be tied up in town. And now here you are.”

“So I am,” said Bobby.

“Always nosey,” sighed Jerry.

“That’s me,” agreed Bobby once again.

“Looking for Mark?”

“Among other things,” Bobby said. “So are you, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Jerry admitted. “He’s booked his room here all right, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe he won’t if he knows you are out trailing him.”

“Or if he knows that you are?” suggested Bobby.

“Oh, we’re pals—do business together,” Jerry explained.

“So I’ve heard,” said Bobby, and Jerry didn’t look pleased. “Did you expect to find Monk here?” Bobby asked next.

“That’s right,” Jerry repeated. “It’s where he said.”

“He gave you this address?”

“That’s right.”

“When?”

“Before he left, it was. Said I could always hear of him here.”

“Did you know he was taking Miss Winlock with him?”

“No, I didn’t. Nothing to do with me if he was. Though I don’t hold with it. Not bringing skirts into business. Have your fun with ’em if you want to, but don’t mix ’em with business. Fun and business don’t go together.”

“Quite an aphorism,” remarked Bobby.

“I never said nothing like that,” protested Jerry in a very injured voice. “And never would, respecting the ladies same as I do.”

“My mistake,” apologized Bobby. “Why do you want to find Monk? It must be rather pressing to bring you all the way from town.”

“Business deal,” explained Jerry. “I can’t get on with it till I know what he’s done. I want his signature, too. Whole thing being held up.”

“Is that all?”

“Quite enough, and too much too,” Jerry declared. “Four thou. of the best going down the drain, like as not. That’s money. Mr Owen, is it true there was bad doings that night at Bexley House?”

“It’s to be sure about that we want to find Monk,” Bobby told him.

“If there was,” Jerry said, “it was after I left.”

“Can you prove that?” Bobby asked.

“Now, Mr Owen, be fair,” Jerry entreated him. “How can I prove anything when I don’t know nothing?”

“It does sound difficult,” Bobby admitted.

“You can’t think,” Jerry urged, “I had anything to do with it. Now can you, Mr Owen? Be fair. Can you?”

“Why not?” asked Bobby; and Jerry took out a handkerchief and began to polish his high forehead, where tiny beads of sweat were beginning to show.



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