The Blue Door by Vincent Starrett

Author:Vincent Starrett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Media
Published: 2020-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

3.

Clayton Hardesty had heard nothing of the excitement next door. The walls of the building were thick. He greeted his brother with his usual air of jovial condescension and a clap on the back that seemed to say, “Well, old chap, here you are again. More money, I suppose! Always know what to expect when you appear. Of course, we both know what a humbug you are.”

In actuality, he said: “Hello, Michael! Well, this is a surprise. I was just going out; but come in, anyway. Will you have a drink?”

“Thanks,” answered Michael, almost gratefully. “I will have a drink. I think that’s what I came up to get.”

The Japanese servant grinned meaningly and vanished in the direction of the kitchen. On the whole, he was inclined to like Michael Hardesty. It was so obvious that Michael disliked his brother. The circumstance recommended the younger man to the Oriental, who had no very high opinion of Clayton, himself. He mixed two highballs and returned with them to the sitting room.

Michael was saying: “There seemed to be some excitement next door as I came along. I thought I heard a woman screaming.”

“That so?” asked Clayton. “Somebody drunk, maybe. A bit early for that, though. They don’t tune up until midnight, as a rule. A woman, eh?”

“And a man ran out of the doorway,” continued Michael. “I thought maybe he was a thief who had been discovered in one of the apartments. Anything of that sort going on around here nowadays?”

“Is there?” echoed Clayton. “It’s going on all over town, every day in the week. But if he was next door he’s getting close. I’ll have to lock up my Scotch. He can have my money, but he can’t have my Scotch. Good Scotch is too hard to get.”

This was a florid gesture that Michael knew. The idea that anybody could have Clayton’s money, that he was a careless, generous fellow who didn’t care much about money anyway, was an idea that Clayton liked to foster. Michael also knew that it was untrue. He would have to abase himself to get even fifty dollars.

The Japanese grinned amiably and left the room.

“Well,” continued Michael, going straight to the point, “I’d like a little of it myself, Clayton. You see me much as usual—with expectations, but with no immediate funds. A loan, of course! I’m keeping track of it, whether you believe it or not. Some day you’ll get it all back, with interest.”

The elder brother was silent for a moment, and the poet squirmed unhappily. For all of his humorous attitude, he found it embarrassing to ask his brother for money.

Then the other shrugged. “It isn’t the money, you know, Michael,” he said. “What I’m wishing is that you’d quit this poetry business and begin to think about a future. Naturally, as long as I have a penny you won’t starve; but it isn’t fair to either of us to let the situation continue indefinitely. However, I won’t preach.”

“Please don’t,” said Michael earnestly.

“I don’t carry much money with me, you know,” continued Clayton.

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