Double for Death by Rex Stout

Author:Rex Stout [Stout, Rex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Murder - Investigation, Fox; Tecumseh (Fictitious Character), Political, General, Mystery Fiction, Fiction, Detective and Mystery Stories; American
ISBN: 9780307755902
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Twenty minutes later Tecumseh Fox had his room to himself again for the night. It was still hot, though the sun had been gone for three hours and from the darkness beyond the screens of the open windows came the amazing concert of the crickets and katydids, a disturbing bedlam to unaccustomed ears, a lullaby to those who lived with it and loved it. Barefooted, in white pajama trousers and nothing above them but his tanned skin undulating with the muscle fibres, Fox was at his desk speaking into the phone:

“Harry? This is Tec. What? Yes, I’ve been moving around a little. Yep, quite a show. I’m sorry to be bothering you at home—what? Thirty-two thousand? Do tell! I’m glad you did. No, that’s a secret. Unload it before noon tomorrow. I know that, but get rid of it. No, not a thing, but a dollar today is worth a dozen in the sweet by and by. I want to ask you something absolutely under your hat, and be sure you keep your hat on. I know you do. Here it is: have you had any information recently, or heard any rumor, that Ridley Thorpe was running short? No, I’ve heard nothing myself, I’m just fishing. As far as you know, he’s right on top? Thanks. No, I tell you, I don’t know a thing, but do something for me. Ask around a little tomorrow. It won’t be hard to do that without starting any gossip yourself, with all the hullabaloo that’s going on anyhow. I want very much to know if Thorpe needed money badly or quickly, or both. No, thanks, I’ll give you a ring after the market closes. How’s the family? Good. Good-night.”

Fox hung up, went to the safe against an inner wall, twirled the combination, swung the door open, took an envelope from a pigeonhole and returned to his desk. Unfolding the paper which he extracted from the envelope, he bent the gooseneck of the lamp still lower to get a stronger light.

The message on the paper was printed in ink:

“You have left me nothing to live for and I must die but you must die first. I am ruined and I am nothing to my family and friends and you did it. I have waited, thinking to find an excuse to live, but there is no more hope. I give you my word of honour, you will die. It gives me deep pleasure to tell you so, and it would be a still greater pleasure to tell you which one of your victims I am, but I must deny myself that, knowing only that in your many frantic guesses I will be included. You will meet me on the pavement or lunching at the club, I still have enough cash for that, you will even speak to me, and you will not know I am the one who will kill you.”

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