Read Online Death After Breakfast by Hugh Pentecost - Free Book Online Page A

I said. “It seems Mayberry and his friends have invested in Duval’s film.”
    “Something like two million dollars,”’ Mayberry said. “Surely it’s not unreasonable to expect some consideration from Chambrun. If the ball people didn’t mind, why should he?”
    “So you went to see Mrs. Kauffman,” Hardy said. “When?”
    “I was dining with Miss Parker in the Blue Lagoon,” Mayberry said. “She had to leave about ten—to rehearse, or something. I called Laura when Miss Parker left and she invited me up.”
    “A few minutes after ten?”
    “Yes.”
    “So you went up.”
    “Yes. We had a couple of drinks while I told her about our problem with Chambrun. She’d already discussed it with her ball committee. Frank Herman and Duval had been to see her.”
    “Last night?”
    “She—she didn’t say. I didn’t ask. All that mattered to me was that the committee was perfectly willing to allow a movie camera on the dance floor. They thought people would be fascinated to be part of a filming. She agreed to talk to Chambrun.”
    “And did she?”
    “She tried to get him on the phone but they weren’t able to locate him.”
    “You knew he was next door in Janet Parker’s suite,” I said. “The captain in the Blue Lagoon told Miss Parker he was on his way in your presence.”
    “Yes, I knew that,” Mayberry said, giving me a murderous look. “I thought she might be using her influence for Herman and Duval; not a good time to interrupt.”
    “But you met Chambrun just as you were leaving Mrs. Kauffman’s suite. You brought that matter up with him?” Hardy asked.
    “He seemed to take delight in making things difficult. He said he didn’t give a damn what the committee felt about it. He said he’d have to have a clearance from every one of the hundreds of guests present before he’d allow a camera on the floor. He said if they’d paid money to be part of a filming that was one thing, but since they’d paid to attend a ball, a ball was what they were going to get.”
    “He had a point,” Hardy said.
    “But we own the hotel, and we have an investment in the film!”
    “Probably a very shrewd use of your funds,” Hardy said. “Let’s go back to Mrs. Kauffman.”
    “There’s nothing to tell except what I’ve told you.”
    “I think there is. You say she’s an old friend. How long have you known her?”
    “About fifteen years, I’d say. I’ve dined at her apartment here in town, visited her at her villa in the south of France, spent a weekend at her place in Acapulco. Old, good friends.”
    “You know her husband?”
    “Jim Kauffman? Of course I know him,”
    “I understand they’re separated.”
    Mayberry shrugged, as if the movement helped relax his personal tensions. “For some months now, I think. I’ve taken Laura to the theater a few times. She hasn’t wanted to talk about it, but I had the feeling the marriage was permanently on the rocks.”
    “What kind of a man is he?”
    “Jim? A pleasant enough fellow, but is was a little hard for him to keep up with Laura’s pace.”
    “Pace?” Hardy asked.
    “She had three or four houses, always on the move. Liked to play hostess to all the rich and famous. Jim, I think, would have liked to settle down and take it easy.”
    “He had no money of his own?”
    “I don’t think so; not when he stopped working on Wall Street. But, hell, Lieutenant, he didn’t need money. Laura was so rich it hurts to think about it,”
    “We know that Kauffman has become an alcoholic,” Hardy said “He’s apparently without funds, down on skid row somewhere.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mayberry said.
    “You didn’t know?”
    “No.”
    “Do you know if Mrs. Kauffman offered to make a settlement of some sort on him?”
    “No.”
    “It would have been decent of her, wouldn’t it? He’d given up his job to toddle around after her.”
    “What was between them was none of my business,” Mayberry said.
    “Did Mrs. Kauffman