Read Online ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? by Hulbert Footner - Free Book Online
Authors: Hulbert Footner
Tags: Murder
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having you pop out through the service entrance, you know. You sit here and I'll fetch the beer. Will you join me in a bottle?"
"Don't mind if I do," said Lee.
The young man went through the swing door into the pantry. Lee had gained his half minute. Whipping out his notebook, he wrote on a page: "Help! Lee Mappin," tore the page out and returned book and page to his pocket. The young man came in with the beer.
As he sat down again he said: "I reckon you have guessed who I am."
"I have guessed it," said Lee dryly.
The young man said with his gleaming smile: "The beard is false, the hair dyed and the spectacles unnecsary." As he spoke he transferred the glasses to his pocket. Lee recognized him as the host of the Sourabaya night club.
An appealing quality came into his smile. "I took an awful risk in coming here against your will, but I was desperate. Only you can save me and my little family."
Lee hardened his heart against him. "You took no risk at all," he said coolly. "Your errand was doomed to failure before you started."
"Don't say that, Mr. Mappin."
"Did you think you could win me over at the point of a gun? I may look like a timid little fellow, but after all!..."
Al Yohe's face fell. "I haven't pointed a gun," he said. "As a matter of fact, I didn't bring one."
"You've got mine!"
Al pulled himself together. "Well, anyhow, as long as I'm here, you might as well hear my story."
"I can't avoid hearing it," said Lee.
While they talked, his hand was busy in his pocket. The sewing case was a little roll of leather which contained two spools of thread, a few needles and pins, a thimble. Old-fashioned people call it a bachelor's companion. Unrolling it, Lee worked one of the spools out and measured off thread as well as he could in his pocket. He glanced at the height of the ceiling; say nine feet; he would need ten feet of thread.
Al said glumly: "This is not going to be easy if you have resolved to set your face against me...However, I must do the best I can." He spread Camembert on a cracker and put it in his mouth. "My interview with Mrs. Gartrey last Monday was a stormy one. She didn't mention that, I suppose."
"Were you in love with her?" asked Lee.
"No, that was the trouble."
"She was in love with you?"
"Yes, God forgive me, and how! I couldn't string her along any further. She insisted on what she called a showdown. There was..."
"Wait a minute," interrupted Lee. "This doesn't exactly recommend you to me. Under the circumstances, why did you continue going to her house?"
"Mr. Mappin, I'm not going to try to make myself out any better than I am. You may call me a buccaneer or worse, if you like, but I'm no murderer." He broke off to say with a boyish smile: "Lord! I wish I could call you Pop like the girls at the office. It suits you so well!" He paused, studying Lee's face, then said with a sigh: "But I guess I better not try it!"
Lee said to himself: He's just turning on his "charm."
Al resumed: "When I came to New York and was introduced to cafe society, those people, rich as Croesus, unstable as monkeys, empty as blown eggs, I made up my mind to prey on them in a perfectly legitimate way. They craved amusement, being too stupid to amuse themselves, and I was clever enough to furnish it. They were ripe for the picking! I amused them and I flattered them. My God! do you blame me? The merest fraction of Jules Gartrey's income would keep my family in luxury for years!
"As to the reputation J have acquired as a great lover, I didn't foresee that. I swear to you, Mr. Map-pin, that I never made love to their women, you can believe me or not. If you were to ask an honest woman, a woman, say, like Delphine Harley, she would bear me out. As a matter of fact, those empty-headed bits of artifice didn't appeal to me. I like a more natural article. But 'making love' is the principal occupation of these monkeys, and out of sheer perversity, just because I didn't make love to them, the women began
"Don't mind if I do," said Lee.
The young man went through the swing door into the pantry. Lee had gained his half minute. Whipping out his notebook, he wrote on a page: "Help! Lee Mappin," tore the page out and returned book and page to his pocket. The young man came in with the beer.
As he sat down again he said: "I reckon you have guessed who I am."
"I have guessed it," said Lee dryly.
The young man said with his gleaming smile: "The beard is false, the hair dyed and the spectacles unnecsary." As he spoke he transferred the glasses to his pocket. Lee recognized him as the host of the Sourabaya night club.
An appealing quality came into his smile. "I took an awful risk in coming here against your will, but I was desperate. Only you can save me and my little family."
Lee hardened his heart against him. "You took no risk at all," he said coolly. "Your errand was doomed to failure before you started."
"Don't say that, Mr. Mappin."
"Did you think you could win me over at the point of a gun? I may look like a timid little fellow, but after all!..."
Al Yohe's face fell. "I haven't pointed a gun," he said. "As a matter of fact, I didn't bring one."
"You've got mine!"
Al pulled himself together. "Well, anyhow, as long as I'm here, you might as well hear my story."
"I can't avoid hearing it," said Lee.
While they talked, his hand was busy in his pocket. The sewing case was a little roll of leather which contained two spools of thread, a few needles and pins, a thimble. Old-fashioned people call it a bachelor's companion. Unrolling it, Lee worked one of the spools out and measured off thread as well as he could in his pocket. He glanced at the height of the ceiling; say nine feet; he would need ten feet of thread.
Al said glumly: "This is not going to be easy if you have resolved to set your face against me...However, I must do the best I can." He spread Camembert on a cracker and put it in his mouth. "My interview with Mrs. Gartrey last Monday was a stormy one. She didn't mention that, I suppose."
"Were you in love with her?" asked Lee.
"No, that was the trouble."
"She was in love with you?"
"Yes, God forgive me, and how! I couldn't string her along any further. She insisted on what she called a showdown. There was..."
"Wait a minute," interrupted Lee. "This doesn't exactly recommend you to me. Under the circumstances, why did you continue going to her house?"
"Mr. Mappin, I'm not going to try to make myself out any better than I am. You may call me a buccaneer or worse, if you like, but I'm no murderer." He broke off to say with a boyish smile: "Lord! I wish I could call you Pop like the girls at the office. It suits you so well!" He paused, studying Lee's face, then said with a sigh: "But I guess I better not try it!"
Lee said to himself: He's just turning on his "charm."
Al resumed: "When I came to New York and was introduced to cafe society, those people, rich as Croesus, unstable as monkeys, empty as blown eggs, I made up my mind to prey on them in a perfectly legitimate way. They craved amusement, being too stupid to amuse themselves, and I was clever enough to furnish it. They were ripe for the picking! I amused them and I flattered them. My God! do you blame me? The merest fraction of Jules Gartrey's income would keep my family in luxury for years!
"As to the reputation J have acquired as a great lover, I didn't foresee that. I swear to you, Mr. Map-pin, that I never made love to their women, you can believe me or not. If you were to ask an honest woman, a woman, say, like Delphine Harley, she would bear me out. As a matter of fact, those empty-headed bits of artifice didn't appeal to me. I like a more natural article. But 'making love' is the principal occupation of these monkeys, and out of sheer perversity, just because I didn't make love to them, the women began
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