Read Online In the Teeth of Adversity by Marian Babson - Free Book Online Page B

hour very much, and both were in a rather disgruntled state.
    â€œ You were here at the time,” he greeted me accusingly.
    â€œNot at the time, no,” I disclaimed heartily. “I arrived afterwards. He was dead when we found him.”
    â€œDo you know when he died?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen how do you know you arrived afterwards?”
    It was a question I would rather not think about. In fact, I knew from past experience, he wasn’t going to ask me many questions I would be happy to think about. It was unfortunate that our past experience wasn’t farther back in the past. He obviously hadn’t had time to take a philosophical view of it.
    â€œYou don’t need me right now, do you?” Endicott Zayle asked. “I have patients waiting.” He backed hopefully toward the door, without waiting for a reply.
    â€œI’ll want to see you later. As soon as my sergeant gets the car parked, we’ll want to go over a few points from yesterday.”
    â€œYesterday ...?” Endicott Zayle said weakly, giving the impression that yesterday was more remote to him than the distant world his father lived in. I couldn’t blame him. I’d be just as glad to forget yesterday myself.
    â€œMeanwhile, I believe you said your wife was returning from a holiday last night. I’d like to speak to her now, if I might. That is,” he added, as Endicott looked stricken, “if she’s here.”
    â€œOh, oh, yes, she’s here. But I don’t know – I mean, she’s not feeling very well – I don’t think –” Considering that his wife was the guilty party, Endicott was putting on a performance that would have made lesser mortals than a policeman immediately suspicious. “She’s unavailable,” he ended up, with sudden firmness.
    â€œPerhaps, if we wait awhile, she’ll become available. We have plenty of time.” Time enough to dig up the cellar, if necessary, his tone implied. For a detective, he ran as nasty a line in innuendos as an undertipped headwaiter.
    â€œOh. Yes. No. Yes.” Endicott jittered, catching some of the drift. “I’ll call her.” He glanced toward the door and his nerve faltered. “You call her,” he said to me.
    I wasn’t any too pleased at the thought of encountering that redheaded temper again myself. Everyone was looking at me, however – Gerry with more sympathy than the others – and I decided to get out of sight before the inspector remembered he had been asking me questions when he got sidetracked. I’d do practically anything to keep him sidetracked, and fetching Adele ought to take care of it.
    The tea tray, which had been standing outside the door, was gone. Taken inside while the coast was clear, I presumed.
    â€œMrs Zayle.” I tapped lightly on the door. “Mrs. Zayle?”
    I hadn’t really expected anything but silence on the first few attempts. After about five minutes of steady effort, she responded.
    â€œGo away!”
    I would have loved to. “Mrs. Zayle,” I said. “The police are here.”
    â€œPolice?”
    â€œAbout Tyler Meredith,” I said. “They want to speak to you.”
    The door opened abruptly. “And I want to speak to them !” She swept past me. I noted that, although she was dressed in black, she had taken enough time at some point in the day to apply full makeup.
    I followed her, arriving in the doorway just behind her. I saw that the sergeant was there now, having evidently parked the car successfully, but that Endicott Zayle hadn’t yet succeeded in getting away to his waiting patients.
    â€œDear, are you ... feeling better?” Zayle inquired tentatively. “This is Detective Chief Inspector Rennolds. He’d like to talk to you for a minute, ask you a few questions. I told him you weren’t really up to it, but he insisted. Inspector, my wife,