Sir Frederic rose and stepped to the window. He gazed down at the spatter of lights flung like a handful of stars over the darkening town. For a moment he said nothing. Then he turned to the reporter.
“A modest detective,” he said, with a grim smile. “That’s a novelty, at any rate. I should like very much to meet this Sergeant Chan.”
Bill Rankin sighed with relief. His task was unbelievably easy, after all.
-“That’s exactly what I came here to suggest,” he said briskly. “I’d like to bring you and Charlie Chan together—hear you go over your methods and experiences—you know, just a real good talk. I was wondering if you would do us the great honor to join Mr. Chan and me at lunch tomorrow?”
-The former head of the C.I.D. hesitated. “Thank you very much. But I am more or less in Mr. Kirk’s hands. He is giving a dinner tomorrow night, and I believe he said something about luncheon tomorrow, too. Much as I should like to accept at once, decidedly we must consult Mr. Kirk.”
+“That’s exactly what I came here to suggest,” he said briskly. “I’d like to bring you and Charlie Chan together—hear you go over your methods and experiences—you know, just a real good talk. I was wondering if you would do us the great honor to join Mr. Chan and me at lunch tomorrow?”
+The former head of the C.I.D. hesitated. “Thank you very much. But I am more or less in Mr. Kirk’s hands. He is giving a dinner tomorrow night, and I believe he said something about luncheon tomorrow, too. Much as I should like to accept at once, decidedly we must consult Mr. Kirk.”
“Well, let’s find him. Where is he?” Bill Rankin was all business.
“I fancy he is up in the bungalow.” Sir Frederic turned and, swinging shut the door of a big wall safe, swiftly twirled the knob.
“You did that just like an American business man, Sir Frederic,” Rankin smiled.
-The detective nodded. “Mr. Kirk has kindly allowed me to use his office while I am his guest.”
+The detective nodded. “Mr. Kirk has kindly allowed me to use his office while I am his guest.”
“Ah—then you’re not altogether on a pleasure trip,” said Bill Rankin quickly.
The gray eyes hardened. “Absolutely—a pleasure trip. But there are certain matters—private business—I am writing my Memoirs—”
“Ah yes—of course,” apologized the reporter.
The door opened, and a cleaning woman entered. Sir Frederic turned to her. “Good evening,” he said. “You understand that no papers on this desk—or in it—are to be interfered with in any way?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” the woman answered.
-“Very good. Now, Mr.—er—Mr.—”
+“Very good. Now, Mr.—er—Mr.—”
“Rankin, Sir Frederic.”
“Of course. There is a stairs in this rear room leading up to the bungalow. If you will come with me—”
They entered the third and last room of the office suite, and Bill Rankin followed the huge figure of the Englishman aloft. The stairs ended in a dark passageway on the floor above. Throwing open the nearest door, Sir Frederic flooded the place with light, and Bill Rankin stepped into the great living-room of the bungalow. Paradise was alone in the room; he received the reporter with cold disdain. Barry Kirk, it appeared, was dressing for dinner, and the butler went reluctantly to inform him of the newspaper man’s unseemly presence.
Kirk appeared at once, in his shirtsleeves and with the ends of a white tie dangling about his neck. He was a handsome, lean young man in the late twenties, whose manner spoke of sophistication, and spoke true. For he had traveled to the far corners of the earth seeking to discover what the Kirk fortune would purchase there, and life held no surprises for him any more.
-“Ah yes—Mr. Rankin of the Globe,” he said pleasantly. “What can I do for you?”
+“Ah yes—Mr. Rankin of the Globe,” he said pleasantly. “What can I do for you?”
Paradise hastened forward to officiate with the tie, and over the servant’s shoulder Bill Rankin explained his mission. Kirk nodded.
“A bully idea,” he remarked. “I have a lot of friends in Honolulu, and I’ve heard about Charlie Chan. I’d like to meet him myself.”
“Very happy to have you join us,” said the reporter.
@@ -107,13 +107,13 @@“One of the deputies?” inquired Rankin.
“Yes. A fellow named Morrow—J. V. Morrow. Perhaps you know him?”
Rankin nodded. “I do,” he said.
-“Well, that’s the scenario,” went on Kirk. “We’re to meet this lad at the St. Francis tomorrow at one. The topic of the day will be murder, and I’m sure your friend from Honolulu will fit in admirably. You must pick up Mr. Chan and join us.”
+“Well, that’s the scenario,” went on Kirk. “We’re to meet this lad at the St. Francis tomorrow at one. The topic of the day will be murder, and I’m sure your friend from Honolulu will fit in admirably. You must pick up Mr. Chan and join us.”
“Thank you very much,” said Rankin. “You’re extremely kind. We’ll be there. I—I won’t keep you any longer.”
Paradise came forward with alacrity to let him out. At the foot of the stairs on the twentieth floor he met his old rival, Gleason of the Herald. He chuckled with delight.
“Turn right around,” he said. “You’re too late. I thought of it first.”
“Thought of what?” asked Gleason, with assumed innocence.
“I’m getting Sir Frederic and Charlie Chan together, and the idea’s copyrighted. Lay off.”
-Gloomily Mr. Gleason turned about, and accompanied Bill Rankin to the elevators. As they waited for the car, the girl in the green dress emerged from the office of the Calcutta Importers and joined them. They rode down together. The girl’s tears had vanished, and had happily left no trace. Blue eyes—that completed the picture. A charming picture. Mr. Gleason was also showing signs of interest.
+Gloomily Mr. Gleason turned about, and accompanied Bill Rankin to the elevators. As they waited for the car, the girl in the green dress emerged from the office of the Calcutta Importers and joined them. They rode down together. The girl’s tears had vanished, and had happily left no trace. Blue eyes—that completed the picture. A charming picture. Mr. Gleason was also showing signs of interest.
In the street Gleason spoke. “I never thought of it until dinner,” he said sourly.
“With me, my career comes first,” Rankin responded. “Did you finish your dinner?”
“I did, worse luck. Well, I hope you get a whale of a story—a knockout, a classic.”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/chapter-10.xhtml b/src/epub/text/chapter-10.xhtml index 657cf0f..3efef88 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/chapter-10.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/chapter-10.xhtml @@ -16,7 +16,7 @@“You can’t hold that against her,” Enderby protested. “She’s come back of her own free will to tell you the truth.”
“But why didn’t she tell it in the first place?”
“One doesn’t care to become involved in a matter of this sort. That’s only natural.”
-“All right, all right.” Flannery turned back to Mrs. Enderby. “You say you recognized this girl when you were going down in the elevator, on your way home after the dinner? And you let her see that you recognized her?”
+“All right, all right.” Flannery turned back to Mrs. Enderby. “You say you recognized this girl when you were going down in the elevator, on your way home after the dinner? And you let her see that you recognized her?”
“Oh, yes. I cried out in surprise: ‘Jennie! Jennie Jerome! What are you doing here?’ ”
“You saw what she was doing, didn’t you?”
“It was just one of those questions—it didn’t mean anything.”
@@ -33,7 +33,7 @@“Well, you’d better keep away from her,” Flannery suggested.
“I’ll keep away from her all right. I feel as though I’d betrayed her.” Eileen Enderby glanced accusingly at her husband.
“You were not in her debt,” said Enderby. “Lying’s a dangerous business in a matter of this kind.”
-“You’re lucky, Mrs. Enderby,” said the Captain. “You’ve got a sensible husband. Just listen to him, and you’ll be OK. I guess that’s all now. You can go. Only keep this to yourself.”
+“You’re lucky, Mrs. Enderby,” said the Captain. “You’ve got a sensible husband. Just listen to him, and you’ll be OK. I guess that’s all now. You can go. Only keep this to yourself.”
“I’ll certainly do that,” the woman assured him. She rose.
“If I want you again, I’ll let you know,” Flannery added.
Chan opened the door for her. “May I be permitted respectful inquiry,” he ventured. “The beautiful garment marked by iron rust stains—it was not ruined beyond reclaim?”
@@ -42,7 +42,7 @@“Well,” said Flannery, “I guess we’re getting somewhere at last. Though if you ask me where, I can’t tell you. Anyhow, we know that Sir Frederic was looking for Jennie Jerome the night he was killed, and that Jennie Jerome was running an elevator just outside his door. By heaven, I’ve a notion to lock her up right now.”
“But you haven’t anything against her,” Miss Morrow objected. “You know that.”
“No, I haven’t. However, the newspapers are howling for an arrest. They always are. I could give ’em Jennie Jerome—a pretty girl—they’d eat it up. Then, if nothing else breaks against her, I could let her off, sort of quiet.”
-“Such tactics are beneath you, Captain,” Miss Morrow said. “I trust that when we make an arrest, it will be based on something more tangible than any evidence we’ve got so far. Are you with me, Mr. Chan?”
+“Such tactics are beneath you, Captain,” Miss Morrow said. “I trust that when we make an arrest, it will be based on something more tangible than any evidence we’ve got so far. Are you with me, Mr. Chan?”
“Undubitably,” Chan replied. He glanced up at the frowning face of the Captain. “If I may make humble suggestion—”
“Of course,” agreed Miss Morrow.
But Chan, it seemed, changed his mind. He kept his humble suggestion to himself. “Patience,” he finished lamely, “always brightest plan in these matters. Acting as champion of that lovely virtue, I have fought many fierce battles. American has always the urge to leap too quick. How well it was said, retire a step and you have the advantage.”
@@ -57,12 +57,12 @@“I’m afraid you’re right,” Miss Morrow sighed.
“Maybe if I locked this woman up—” began Flannery, attached to the idea.
“No, no,” Miss Morrow told him. “We can’t do that. But we can shadow her. And since she is one who has some talent for walking off into the night, I suggest that you arrange the matter without delay.”
-Flannery nodded. “I’ll put the boys on her trail. I guess you’re right—we might get on to something that way. But Mr. Kirk has said it—we’re not progressing very fast. If there was only some clue I could get my teeth into—”
+Flannery nodded. “I’ll put the boys on her trail. I guess you’re right—we might get on to something that way. But Mr. Kirk has said it—we’re not progressing very fast. If there was only some clue I could get my teeth into—”
Chan cut in. “Thanks for recalling my wandering ideas,” he said. “So much has happened the matter was obscure in my mind. I have something here that might furnish excellent teeth-hold.” He removed an envelope from his pocket and carefully extracted a folded sheet of paper and a picture postcard. “No doubt, Captain, you have more cleverness with fingerprints than stupid man like me. Could you say—are these thumb prints identically the same?”
Flannery studied the two items. “They look the same to me. I could put our expert on them—but say, what’s this all about?”
“Blank sheet of paper,” Chan explained, “arrive in envelope marked Scotland Yard. Without question Miss Morrow has told you?”
“Oh, yes—she mentioned that. Somebody tampering with the mail, eh? And this thumb print on the postcard?”
-“Bestowed there last night by digit of Paradise, Mr. Kirk’s butler,” Chan informed him.
+“Bestowed there last night by digit of Paradise, Mr. Kirk’s butler,” Chan informed him.
Flannery jumped up. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Now we’re getting on. You’ve got the makings of a detective after all, Sergeant. Paradise, eh—fooling with Uncle Sam’s mail. That’s good enough for me—I’ll have him behind the bars in an hour.”
Chan lifted a protesting hand. “Oh, no—my humblest apologies. Again you leap too sudden. We must watch and wait—”
“The hell you say,” Flannery cried. “That’s not my system. I’ll nab him. I’ll make him talk—”
@@ -110,7 +110,7 @@“Think so?” Kirk took Miss Morrow’s coat. “I should have said that most of the time, it’s over her head.”
The girl shrugged. “That from you, deacon,” she said, reproachfully.
Chan and Captain Flannery were at the door, and Kirk let them in. The Captain was all business.
-“Hello,” he said. “Now if you’ll show us that butler’s room, Mr. Kirk, we’ll get busy right away. I’ve brought a few skeleton keys. We’ll go over the place like a vacuum cleaner.” Kirk led them into the corridor.
+“Hello,” he said. “Now if you’ll show us that butler’s room, Mr. Kirk, we’ll get busy right away. I’ve brought a few skeleton keys. We’ll go over the place like a vacuum cleaner.” Kirk led them into the corridor.
“How about the cook’s room?” Flannery added. “We might take a look at that.”
“My cook’s a Frenchman,” Kirk explained. “He sleeps out.”
“Humph. He was here the other night at the time of the murder?”
@@ -149,7 +149,7 @@At that moment Chan and Flannery appeared in the doorway. The Captain seemed very pleased with himself.
“What luck?” Kirk inquired.
“The best,” beamed Flannery. He carried a piece of paper in his hand. “Ah—shall I help myself?”
-“By all means,” Kirk told him. “A congratulatory potion. Mr. Chan—what’s yours?”
+“By all means,” Kirk told him. “A congratulatory potion. Mr. Chan—what’s yours?”
“Tea, if Miss Morrow will be so kind. Three lumps of sugar and the breath of the lemon in passing.”
The girl prepared his cup. Flannery dropped into a chair.
“I see you’ve found something,” Kirk suggested.
@@ -173,14 +173,14 @@Martin Benfield, Deputy-Commissioner.”
-Flannery stopped reading and looked at the others. “Well, there you are,” he said. “The Galt affair and Eve Durand are mixed up together. Of course that ain’t exactly news—I’ve known it right along. What I want to find out now is, why did Paradise try to keep this information from us? What’s his stake in the affair? I could arrest him at once, but I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll shut up like a clam and that will end it. He doesn’t know we’re wise to him, so I’m going to put this letter back where we found it and give him a little more rope. The Sergeant here has agreed to keep an eye on him, and I rely on you, too, Mr. Kirk, to see that he doesn’t get away.”
+Flannery stopped reading and looked at the others. “Well, there you are,” he said. “The Galt affair and Eve Durand are mixed up together. Of course that ain’t exactly news—I’ve known it right along. What I want to find out now is, why did Paradise try to keep this information from us? What’s his stake in the affair? I could arrest him at once, but I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll shut up like a clam and that will end it. He doesn’t know we’re wise to him, so I’m going to put this letter back where we found it and give him a little more rope. The Sergeant here has agreed to keep an eye on him, and I rely on you, too, Mr. Kirk, to see that he doesn’t get away.”
“Don’t worry,” said Kirk. “I don’t want to lose him.”
Flannery rose. “Sir Frederic’s mail isn’t coming here any more?” he inquired of Miss Morrow.
“No, of course not. I arranged to have it sent to my office. There’s been nothing of interest—purely personal matters.”
“I must put this letter back, and then I’ll have to run along,” the Captain said. He went into the passageway.
“Well,” remarked Kirk, “Paradise hangs on a little longer. I see your handiwork there, Sergeant, and you have my warmest thanks.”
“For a brief time, at least,” Chan said. “You will perceive I am no person’s fool. I do not arrange arrest of butler in house where I am guest. I protect him, and I would do same for the cook.”
-Flannery returned. “I got to get back to the station,” he announced. “Mr. Kirk, thanks for your—er—hospitality.”
+Flannery returned. “I got to get back to the station,” he announced. “Mr. Kirk, thanks for your—er—hospitality.”
Miss Morrow looked up at him. “You are going to wire to New York for Inspector Duff?” she asked.
“I am not,” the Captain said.
“But he might be of great help—”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/chapter-11.xhtml b/src/epub/text/chapter-11.xhtml index fa0f75e..7557418 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/chapter-11.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/chapter-11.xhtml @@ -14,7 +14,7 @@Flannery departed, and Miss Morrow picked up her coat. Reluctantly Kirk held it for her. “Must you go?” he protested.
“Back to the office—yes,” she said. “I’ve oceans of work. The district attorney keeps asking me for results in this investigation, and so far all I have been able to report is further mysteries. I wonder if I’ll ever have anything else.”
“It was my hope,” remarked Chan, “that today we take a seven-league step forward. But it is fated otherwise. Not before Monday now.”
-“Monday,” repeated the girl. “What do you mean, Mr. Chan?”
+“Monday,” repeated the girl. “What do you mean, Mr. Chan?”
“I mean I experience great yearning to bring Miss Gloria Garland to this building again. I have what my cousin Willie Chan, a vulgar speaker, calls a hunch. But this morning when I call Miss Garland on the telephone I learn that she is absent in Del Monte, and will not return until Sunday night.”
“Miss Garland? What has she to do with it?”
“Remains to be observed. She may have much, or nothing. Depends on the authentic value of my hunch. Monday will tell.”
@@ -100,7 +100,7 @@Chan’s eyes narrowed. “There would be no reason why you would conceal act of recognition from us? I might humbly remind you, this is serious affair.”
“No—why should I do that? I’ll tell you if I see her—but I’m sure I haven’t—”
“Very good. Will you remain in present posture until my return?” Chan went rapidly out to the stairway leading to the floor below.
-They looked at one another in wonder, but no one spoke. In a moment, Chan returned. With him came Grace Lane, the elevator girl whom Mrs. Enderby had identified as Jennie Jerome.
+They looked at one another in wonder, but no one spoke. In a moment, Chan returned. With him came Grace Lane, the elevator girl whom Mrs. Enderby had identified as Jennie Jerome.
She came serenely into the room, and stood there. The sunlight fell full upon her, outlining clearly her delicately modeled face. Gloria Garland started, and half rose from her chair.
“Marie!” she cried. “Marie Lantelme! What are you doing here?”
They gasped. A look of triumph shone in Chan’s narrow eyes.
@@ -122,7 +122,7 @@“Well, that’s right. I am.”
“I have never done anything wrong. I am not afraid.”
“Maybe not. But tell me this—what do you know about Sir Frederic Bruce?”
-“I know that he was a famous man from Scotland Yard, who was killed in Mr. Kirk’s office last Tuesday night.”
+“I know that he was a famous man from Scotland Yard, who was killed in Mr. Kirk’s office last Tuesday night.”
“Ever see him before he came here?”
“No, sir—I never had.”
“Ever hear of him?”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/chapter-12.xhtml b/src/epub/text/chapter-12.xhtml index c929532..3385eab 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/chapter-12.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/chapter-12.xhtml @@ -37,7 +37,7 @@At precisely twelve thirty he entered Kirk’s office. The young man rose and, accepting some papers from his secretary, put them into a leather briefcase. “Got to see a lawyer after lunch,” he explained. “Not a nice lawyer, either—a man this time.” They went to the Cosmopolitan Club.
When they had checked their hats and coats and returned to the lobby in that imposing building, Chan looked about him with deep interest. The Cosmopolitan’s fame was widespread; it was the resort of men active in the arts, in finance and in journalism. Kirk’s popularity there was proved by many jovial greetings. He introduced Chan to a number of his friends, and the detective was presently the center of a pleasant group. With difficulty they got away to lunch in one corner of the big dining-room.
It was toward the close of the lunch that Chan, looking up, saw approaching the man who interested him most at the moment. Colonel John Beetham’s hard-bitten face was more grim than ever, seen in broad daylight. He paused at their table.
-“How are you, Kirk?” he said. “And Mr. Chan. I’ll sit down a moment, if I may.”
+“How are you, Kirk?” he said. “And Mr. Chan. I’ll sit down a moment, if I may.”
“By all means,” Kirk agreed cordially. “How about lunch? What can I order for you?”
“Thanks, I’ve just finished,” Beetham replied.
“A cigarette, then.” Kirk held out his case.
@@ -91,7 +91,7 @@“Oh, no,” Flannery answered. “I’ll explain in a minute. Miss Morrow, meet Inspector Duff, of Scotland Yard.”
The girl came forward, smiling. “I’m so glad,” she said.
“Charmed,” remarked Duff, in a hearty, roast-beef-of-Old-England voice. He was surprisingly young, with rosy cheeks, and the look of a farmer about him. And indeed it had been from a farm in Yorkshire that he had come to London and the Metropolitan police.
-“The Inspector and I went from the train to my office,” Flannery explained. “I wanted to go over the records of our case with him. The Major stopped at the hotel to brush up—he’ll be along in a minute. Oh, yes—Mr. Kirk, Inspector Duff. And this, Inspector, is Sergeant Charlie Chan, of the Honolulu police.”
+“The Inspector and I went from the train to my office,” Flannery explained. “I wanted to go over the records of our case with him. The Major stopped at the hotel to brush up—he’ll be along in a minute. Oh, yes—Mr. Kirk, Inspector Duff. And this, Inspector, is Sergeant Charlie Chan, of the Honolulu police.”
Chan bowed low. “A moment that will live forever in my memory,” he said.
“Oh—er—really?” Duff replied. “The Captain’s told me of you, Sergeant. We’re in the same line—some miles apart.”
“Many miles apart,” conceded Charlie gravely.
diff --git a/src/epub/text/chapter-13.xhtml b/src/epub/text/chapter-13.xhtml index f4d6125..916a95b 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/chapter-13.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/chapter-13.xhtml @@ -27,7 +27,7 @@“No, sir. It’s a booth phone. She was there only a few minutes, and then she hurried out again.”
“Well, that’s something,” Flannery said. “You boys wait for me—I’ve got a car. First of all, I’ll send out the alarm. I’ll have men at the ferries and the railroad stations—she’s a marked woman with that uniform. I’ll pick her up before midnight—”
“On what charge?” asked Miss Morrow gently.
-“Oh—oh, well—as a witness. I’ll take her as a witness. Still that will mean a lot of publicity I don’t want at this time. I have it. I’ll take her on a charge of stealing. The uniform is your property, Mr. Kirk?”
+“Oh—oh, well—as a witness. I’ll take her as a witness. Still that will mean a lot of publicity I don’t want at this time. I have it. I’ll take her on a charge of stealing. The uniform is your property, Mr. Kirk?”
“Yes—but I don’t like that,” protested Kirk.
“Oh, it’s just a fake. We won’t press it. I’ve got to get her on some pretext. Now—if I can use your phone—”
Flannery talked to some purpose to the station house, and the hue and cry after that elusive woman was once more under way. He rose full of energy.
@@ -45,18 +45,18 @@The butler muttered something, and turned as though to go out.
“Just a moment!” The Inspector’s voice was steely cold. “This is a surprise, my man. A surprise for both of us, I fancy. When I last saw you, you were standing in the dock at Old Bailey.” Paradise bowed his head. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have been inclined to give you away, Paradise, if you had behaved yourself. But you’ve been opening mail—haven’t you? You’ve been tampering with a letter addressed to Sir Frederic Bruce?”
“Yes, sir, I have.” The servant’s voice was very low.
-“So I understand,” Duff continued. He turned to Barry Kirk. “I’m sorry to distress you, Mr. Kirk. I believe Paradise has been a good servant?”
+“So I understand,” Duff continued. He turned to Barry Kirk. “I’m sorry to distress you, Mr. Kirk. I believe Paradise has been a good servant?”
“The best I ever had,” Kirk told him.
“He was always a good servant,” went on Duff. “As I recall, that fact was brought out clearly at the trial. A competent, faithful man—he had many references to prove it. But unfortunately a few years ago, in England, there was some suspicion that he had put hydrocyanic acid in a lady’s tea.”
“What an odd place for hydrocyanic acid,” said Kirk. “But then, of course, I speak without knowing the lady.”
“The lady was his wife,” Duff explained. “It seemed to some of us that he had rather overstepped a husband’s privileges. He was brought to trial—”
Paradise raised his head. “Nothing was ever proved,” he said firmly. “I was acquitted.”
-“Yes, our case collapsed,” admitted Inspector Duff. “That doesn’t often happen, Mr. Kirk, but it did in this instance. Technically, at least, Paradise can not be adjudged guilty. In the eyes of the law, I mean. And for that reason I might have been inclined to keep all this to myself, if I had not heard of his queer work with that letter. Tell me, Paradise—do you know anything about Eve Durand?”
+“Yes, our case collapsed,” admitted Inspector Duff. “That doesn’t often happen, Mr. Kirk, but it did in this instance. Technically, at least, Paradise can not be adjudged guilty. In the eyes of the law, I mean. And for that reason I might have been inclined to keep all this to myself, if I had not heard of his queer work with that letter. Tell me, Paradise—do you know anything about Eve Durand?”
“I have never heard the name before, sir.”
“Have you any information in the matter of an old murder in Ely Place—the murder of Hilary Galt?”
“None whatever, sir.”
“But you opened an envelope addressed to Sir Frederic Bruce and substituted a blank sheet for the letter you found inside. I think you had better explain, my man.”
-“Yes, sir. I will do so.” The servant turned to Barry Kirk. “This is very painful for me, Mr. Kirk. In the two years I have been with you I have done nothing dishonorable before—before this act. The gentleman has said that I poisoned my wife. I may call attention to the fact that he has some animus in the matter, as he conducted the investigation and was bitterly disappointed when a jury acquitted me. A natural feeling—”
+“Yes, sir. I will do so.” The servant turned to Barry Kirk. “This is very painful for me, Mr. Kirk. In the two years I have been with you I have done nothing dishonorable before—before this act. The gentleman has said that I poisoned my wife. I may call attention to the fact that he has some animus in the matter, as he conducted the investigation and was bitterly disappointed when a jury acquitted me. A natural feeling—”
“Never mind that,” said Duff sharply.
“At any rate, sir,” the butler continued to Kirk, “I was acquitted, for the very good reason that I was an innocent man. But I knew that, innocent or not, the fact of my having been tried would not be—er—pleasant news for you.”
“Anything but,” agreed Kirk.
@@ -68,7 +68,7 @@“But it didn’t concern you, Paradise,” said Kirk.
“Not directly, sir. However, it mentioned that Inspector Duff was in New York. I had enjoyed the honor of Inspector Duff’s personal attention in my—er—my ordeal, and I was panic-stricken. The local police, reading the letter, might send for him, with results that are all too apparent now. So in my madness I slipped a blank sheet of paper into the envelope and resealed it. It was a clumsy subterfuge, sir, and one I deeply regret. Not the clumsiness, but the deceit, sir—that pains me. Everything has always been above the table with us, sir.”
“I should hope it had,” said Kirk.
-“I am perhaps going too far when I ask you to overlook my defection, Mr. Kirk. I assure you, however, that it was my fondness for you, my keen desire to remain in your service, that prompted my rash act. If we could only go back to the old basis, sir—of mutual confidence and esteem—”
+“I am perhaps going too far when I ask you to overlook my defection, Mr. Kirk. I assure you, however, that it was my fondness for you, my keen desire to remain in your service, that prompted my rash act. If we could only go back to the old basis, sir—of mutual confidence and esteem—”
Kirk laughed. “I don’t know. I shall have to think this over. Are you sure you’re fond of me, Paradise?”
“Very, sir.”
“Have you analyzed your emotions carefully? No little hidden trace of resentment, or disapproval?”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml b/src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml index a3b476b..c247215 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml @@ -110,11 +110,11 @@“For example?”
“How about Lila Barr—the girl in the office of the Calcutta Importers? You remember what you told us—how interested Sir Frederic was in her? Just what did that mean?”
“I’d be happy to tell you—if I knew.”
-“But you don’t. Then there’s Eileen Enderby and Gloria Garland. In spite of their stories about why Sir Frederic wanted to see them—are they out of it? And Mrs. Tupper-Brock. No—we can’t be sure that the elevator girl was Eve Durand. We’ve just been guessing—Chan’s been guessing. And we’ll never know now.”
+“But you don’t. Then there’s Eileen Enderby and Gloria Garland. In spite of their stories about why Sir Frederic wanted to see them—are they out of it? And Mrs. Tupper-Brock. No—we can’t be sure that the elevator girl was Eve Durand. We’ve just been guessing—Chan’s been guessing. And we’ll never know now.”
“Why not? Flannery will find her.”
“You don’t really believe that? If you do, you’ve more faith in the poor old Captain than I have. Suppose he does find her, and she is Eve Durand—what of it? She’ll simply refuse to talk, and we’ll be no nearer knowing who killed Sir Frederic than we ever were.”
“I brought you here for an evening of gaiety,” Kirk said sternly, “and you sit there thinking black thoughts.”
-“Just a minute—let me go on. It’s such a comfort to talk things over. Who killed Sir Frederic—that’s my problem. The identity of Eve Durand may not have as much to do with the matter as we think. It may even prove to have nothing to do with it at all. Who pulled that trigger in your office last Tuesday night? Carrick Enderby? It’s quite possible. Eileen Enderby? There were those stains on her frock—did she climb down the fire-escape on some sinister errand? Dismissing the Enderby family, there are others. How about Gloria Garland? Mrs. Tupper-Brock?”
+“Just a minute—let me go on. It’s such a comfort to talk things over. Who killed Sir Frederic—that’s my problem. The identity of Eve Durand may not have as much to do with the matter as we think. It may even prove to have nothing to do with it at all. Who pulled that trigger in your office last Tuesday night? Carrick Enderby? It’s quite possible. Eileen Enderby? There were those stains on her frock—did she climb down the fire-escape on some sinister errand? Dismissing the Enderby family, there are others. How about Gloria Garland? Mrs. Tupper-Brock?”
“Each of whom, of course, arrived at my dinner with a pistol hidden under her gown?” smiled Kirk.
“Each of whom knew she was to meet Sir Frederic that night. The pistol could have been arranged. To go on with the list—there’s Paradise. I like him, but I can’t see that his story of this afternoon puts him completely beyond suspicion. On the contrary. Outside the bungalow, there was that pale young man from the accountants’ office.”
“Oh yes—name of Smith,” said Kirk. “I’d forgotten all about him.”
@@ -139,7 +139,7 @@But before they got out of the room, Miss Morrow’s worries were suddenly brought back to her. Along one wall was a series of booths, beside which they walked on their way to the door. Opposite the final booth the girl half stopped, and glanced back over her shoulder at Barry Kirk. In passing he too looked into the compartment, and then hastily moved on. He need not have effaced himself so hurriedly, for the two people who were dining together in the booth were so deep in serious conversation they were oblivious to everything.
In the street Miss Morrow turned to Kirk. “What did I tell you?” she cried. “There are other women involved in this affair besides that poor little elevator girl.”
“And what did I tell you,” Kirk answered, “about your handsome British hero?”
-Miss Morrow nodded. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I shall look into this. Just what, I wonder, is the connection between Colonel Beetham and Mrs. Helen Tupper-Brock?”
+Miss Morrow nodded. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I shall look into this. Just what, I wonder, is the connection between Colonel Beetham and Mrs. Helen Tupper-Brock?”