The Bigger They Come by Erle Stanley Gardner & A A Fair

Author:Erle Stanley Gardner & A A Fair [Gardner, Erle Stanley & Fair, A A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-06-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

THE TAXI DRIVER turned into the eight hundred block on Willoughby Drive. Mrs. Cool said, ‘Go down to 907, but don’t stop. Drive past slowly and let us look it over.’

The driver asked no questions. Fares who send a cab prowling around at that hour of the morning are apt to make peculiar requests, and a cab driver gets his tips by saving his arguments until he gets home to his wife.

‘Take a look at it, Donald,’ she said, as the driver indicated the house on the corner.

I studied the driveway leading into the garage, figured the general layout of the house, and said, ‘That could be it.’

‘You’re not certain.’

‘No.’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘it’s a hell of a chance, but we’ll give it a try. Swing around to the curb, driver, and stop at that house across the street-the one on the corner.’

The cab driver swung the car to a stop. ‘Want me to wait?’ he asked.

‘Yes, wait,’ she said.

I held the door open. She pulled the springs far over as she stepped to the ground, disdaining our assistance. The driver stood and watched us go up the cement walk toward the dark, silent house. I groped for the bell button, found it, and leaned against it. Inside the house, I could hear the jingling of the bell.

‘Do I do the talking, or do you?’ I asked.

‘If it’s the right party,’ she said, ‘tip me off. Let me go on from there.’

‘All right,’ I said, ‘but if someone I’ve never seen before comes to the door, we’ll have to get in the house before I can be certain.’

‘All right. Tell them I’m sick, and you want to come in and telephone for a doctor-you’ve seen the room where the telephone’s located, haven’t you?’

‘One of the phones, at any rate.’

‘All right. That’s all we need-don’t keep that thing going so steadily, Donald. Take it easy. Let up, and ring again after a minute or two.’

I could hear someone moving around on the upper floor. A window raised, and a masculine voice said, ‘Who is it?’

‘It sounds like the chief’s voice,’ I whispered.

Bertha Cool raised her voice and said, ‘I have an important message to deliver here.’

‘Put it under the door.’

‘It isn’t that kind of a message.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’ll give you the name when you come down,’ she said.

For a second or two the man seemed undecided, then he slammed the window down. A light clicked on, and the window blazed into an oblong of brilliance that was subdued as the shade was pulled A second or two later I heard steps on the stairs.

‘Move over to one side, Donald,’ she said. ‘Let me stand in front of the door.’

The porch light clicked on, flooded us with brilliance. Bertha Cool stood squarely in front of the oval plate glass window in the front door. The steps had ceased now, and I had the impression that someone was looking through the window, sizing her up.

After a moment, the door opened a crack, and the man said, ‘What is it?’

I stepped back and around so I could see him.

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