There is Always Love : A classic New York romance by Emilie Loring

Author:Emilie Loring [Loring , Emilie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2021-03-31T00:00:00+00:00

XVI

The room was mellow, dignified, restful. Wood paneling blended with the leather of the bookbindings and the exposed ceiling beams. The heavy velvet hangings drawn across the long windows were the same shade of blue as the coat of the ruddy-faced admiral in the portrait set in above the mantel. Lamp bases were choice porcelains; light glowed through opaline shades. An old globe on a stand. Red roses in a tall silver vase on the grand piano. Deep, inviting chairs with arm tables. All this and no sense of crowding.

The red-faced man, with baggy jowls and sparse brown hair, in the black suit with fine white stripes, seated at the flat desk, had been presented to the company assembled as Jim Shaw, detective. A gray-haired man in sombre black, who had been introduced as “My print expert, Cox,” guarded the door.

Bill Colton, Keith Sanders and Skid Grant in white dinner jackets and black trousers stood before the mantel like a line of defense. Greg Merton sat astride the bench at the piano; Hester in a shimmering orchid frock rested an elbow on its polished rosewood. Janet, in filmy white, leaned eagerly forward from the divan at a right angle to the fireplace; Linda in a blacknet, the billowing skirt patched with pink and blue like the suit of a Harlequin, perched on the arm of it. The glow from a softly shaded lamp above the chair in which Ruth Brewster sat threw a lovely light on her violet crepe frock and the mass of rose-color wool in her lap. The detective trotted one tan-leather-shod foot and scowled at his notebook.

“You discovered the theft this noon, Mrs. Colton, and yet Mr. Merton didn’t notify me until an hour ago. How come?”

“After the first shock of finding the jewel case open, I thought I might discover that I had put that particular bracelet and my pearl necklace somewhere else. Sometimes I do that. I wanted to be sure they were not in the house before my brother called you. I have looked in every possible place and haven’t found them.

“You trust the servants?”

“Absolutely. They have been in my employ since I came to this house a bride five years ago. I know they wouldn’t steal.”

“I’ve questioned them. I believe you’re right.” His greenish ferret eyes touched Ruth, Linda, Hester; passed over Bill Colton, squinted at Keith Sanders, rested on Skid Grant.

“Haven’t known these guests of yours as long as you have the servants, have you?” he asked with sarcastic emphasis on the word guests.

His tone brought Merton to his feet in protest. Bill Colton took a step forward.

“Look here, Shaw, I don’t like your intimation. Our guests are our friends, no matter how long we have known them. Sanders, here beside me, has week-ended with us many times during the last year.”

“You’re laughing but your eyes are cold as blue ice,” Linda thought as Keith Sanders tossed a cigarette into the fireplace and answered his host.

“You might clarify the situation by telling him, Bill, that I wasn’t in the house at the time of the theft.

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