Read Online Dead Seed by William Campbell Gault - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Campbell Gault
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gracefully?”
“You’ve lost me again,” she said. “Just the facts, peeper.”
I gave her the sordid details of my depressing day.
“And now,” she guessed, “you’re wondering where the money came from.”
“Not really. Maybe a little.”
She nodded toward the Medford home. “There?”
“Probably.”
“Why don’t you phone them?”
“I did. They’re not accepting calls.”
“To hell with both of them,” she said. “Mrs. Casey is making Irish stew for dinner. That should cheer you up. And remember, there’s always tomorrow, lover.”
The Irish stew helped. I was almost back to my natural ebullience when Corey phoned.
“Learn anything?” I asked him.
“I sure did. I talked with Joel. He works in the kitchen, too. That’s part of his incubation period. You know—honest toil?”
“What did he tell you?”
“He told me he hates his mother. It really floored me. I mean, he seems like such a nice, gentle guy. And I talked with Penelope.”
“Who is Penelope?”
“You know! That girl who works up here, the secretary, the girl I went to high school with.” A pause. “We’ve got a date tonight.”
“Doesn’t she live up there?”
“Of course not! She’s like me, an employee. She’s no weirdo.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Stay away from weirdos, Corey.”
“I plan to. What I wondered—you see, after the movie I figured we could grab a sandwich or something. But I’m a little short of cash right now. I put in eight hours today. That would be sixteen bucks.”
“You’re good at figures. Isn’t Mrs. Lacrosse paying you, or Kelly?”
“Do you think I would work for them after what you told me? Do you think I’m unethical?”
“Don’t con me, Corey,” I said sternly. “They dumped you.”
Silence on the line.
I said, “All right. Drop in at the house before you go to the movie. I’ll give you your pay for today.”
When he rang our bell, around eight o’clock, I gave him his sixteen dollars and asked him, “Would you like a beer?”
“Penelope is waiting in the car,” he said.
“Doesn’t she like beer? Bring her in.”
He stood there, looking doubtful.
I said the magic word. “Einlicher,” I told him.
“I’ll get her,” he said.
The girl with the flaxen hair was not wearing charcoal denim tonight. She was wearing blue linen. But it was as unadorned as the charcoal denim had been. Her face was devoid of makeup, her long hair free of frizz. This was the genuine article.
She stood in the center of our living room and said, “What a lovely room!”
“It’s my wife’s taste, not mine,” I explained.
“I know,” she said.
That could be read several ways, one of which was not complimentary. I decided not to ask for her reading of the remark, still getting in more practice on my tact.
She smiled at me. “That was dumb, wasn’t it? What I meant to say was that I knew Mrs. Callahan worked for Kay Décor. Corey told me.”
“I assumed that’s what you meant,” I said. “Did he also tell you never to mention my name to your boss?”
“He did. He’s—creepy, isn’t he? I mean Mr. Sarkissian, of course, not Corey. But handsome!”
“That he is,” I agreed. “He reminds me of Tyrone Power.”
“Who is Tyrone Power?” she asked.
“I’ll get your beer,” I said.
“While I show Penelope the rest of the house,” Jan said.
They were still prowling the other rooms when I told Corey, “You had better get that lovely girl out of there before Sarkissian starts chasing her around the office.”
“Nah. He’s gay.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Positive. I was thinking—now that I’m working up there exclusively for you—”
“All right,” I said. “Three-twenty an hour.”
“Fair enough. What did you learn at your end today?”
I didn’t tell him all of it, only that Mrs. Lacrosse had suddenly come into money and was no longer living at Kelly’s.
“So that’s why they bounced me,” he said. “It’s a really
“You’ve lost me again,” she said. “Just the facts, peeper.”
I gave her the sordid details of my depressing day.
“And now,” she guessed, “you’re wondering where the money came from.”
“Not really. Maybe a little.”
She nodded toward the Medford home. “There?”
“Probably.”
“Why don’t you phone them?”
“I did. They’re not accepting calls.”
“To hell with both of them,” she said. “Mrs. Casey is making Irish stew for dinner. That should cheer you up. And remember, there’s always tomorrow, lover.”
The Irish stew helped. I was almost back to my natural ebullience when Corey phoned.
“Learn anything?” I asked him.
“I sure did. I talked with Joel. He works in the kitchen, too. That’s part of his incubation period. You know—honest toil?”
“What did he tell you?”
“He told me he hates his mother. It really floored me. I mean, he seems like such a nice, gentle guy. And I talked with Penelope.”
“Who is Penelope?”
“You know! That girl who works up here, the secretary, the girl I went to high school with.” A pause. “We’ve got a date tonight.”
“Doesn’t she live up there?”
“Of course not! She’s like me, an employee. She’s no weirdo.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Stay away from weirdos, Corey.”
“I plan to. What I wondered—you see, after the movie I figured we could grab a sandwich or something. But I’m a little short of cash right now. I put in eight hours today. That would be sixteen bucks.”
“You’re good at figures. Isn’t Mrs. Lacrosse paying you, or Kelly?”
“Do you think I would work for them after what you told me? Do you think I’m unethical?”
“Don’t con me, Corey,” I said sternly. “They dumped you.”
Silence on the line.
I said, “All right. Drop in at the house before you go to the movie. I’ll give you your pay for today.”
When he rang our bell, around eight o’clock, I gave him his sixteen dollars and asked him, “Would you like a beer?”
“Penelope is waiting in the car,” he said.
“Doesn’t she like beer? Bring her in.”
He stood there, looking doubtful.
I said the magic word. “Einlicher,” I told him.
“I’ll get her,” he said.
The girl with the flaxen hair was not wearing charcoal denim tonight. She was wearing blue linen. But it was as unadorned as the charcoal denim had been. Her face was devoid of makeup, her long hair free of frizz. This was the genuine article.
She stood in the center of our living room and said, “What a lovely room!”
“It’s my wife’s taste, not mine,” I explained.
“I know,” she said.
That could be read several ways, one of which was not complimentary. I decided not to ask for her reading of the remark, still getting in more practice on my tact.
She smiled at me. “That was dumb, wasn’t it? What I meant to say was that I knew Mrs. Callahan worked for Kay Décor. Corey told me.”
“I assumed that’s what you meant,” I said. “Did he also tell you never to mention my name to your boss?”
“He did. He’s—creepy, isn’t he? I mean Mr. Sarkissian, of course, not Corey. But handsome!”
“That he is,” I agreed. “He reminds me of Tyrone Power.”
“Who is Tyrone Power?” she asked.
“I’ll get your beer,” I said.
“While I show Penelope the rest of the house,” Jan said.
They were still prowling the other rooms when I told Corey, “You had better get that lovely girl out of there before Sarkissian starts chasing her around the office.”
“Nah. He’s gay.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Positive. I was thinking—now that I’m working up there exclusively for you—”
“All right,” I said. “Three-twenty an hour.”
“Fair enough. What did you learn at your end today?”
I didn’t tell him all of it, only that Mrs. Lacrosse had suddenly come into money and was no longer living at Kelly’s.
“So that’s why they bounced me,” he said. “It’s a really
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