Read Online Man on a Rope by George Harmon Coxe - Free Book Online

was about to do could easily be misunderstood by anyone who might witness it, but his desire to know that Lynn was all right was even stronger than his feeling for convention, and now, because the hotel was within easy walking distance, he took some bills from his pocket and paid what he owed, adding a dollar tip. He made no attempt to explain his actions because he knew appearances were against him. Eddie could think what he wanted, but Eddie would probably keep it to himself.
    â€œThanks, Eddie,” he said. “I may want you in the morning.”
    â€œI’ll be around, Mr. Dawson,” Eddie said. “Good night, sir.”
    Barry stood where he was until the Zephyr turned the corner and was gone. By then he knew that the adjacent houses were also dark, and he hoped the occupants were asleep as he turned into the path and started up the steps.
    Lynn’s bedroom, he knew, opened on the veranda at the right, and he started toward this, walking lightly but not on tiptoe. His knock sounded discouragingly loud in the otherwise quiet night and he glanced over his shoulder at the house next door. A high hedge served to screen the lower part of the windows and this fact reassured him somewhat and he knocked again.
    â€œLynn!” he said in a loud whisper. “Hey, Lynn!”
    Once more he knocked and this time he rattled the knob, a curious tension beginning to pluck at his nerve ends as his thoughts expanded and his apprehension grew. Then he heard the rattle of the key in the lock and it was a wonderful sound to hear. He leaned close as the door opened a tiny crack.
    â€œLynn,” he said. “It’s me.”
    The soft “Ohhh” that followed held a connotation of relief and he could hear her catch her breath. “All right,” she whispered. “Just a minute.”
    â€œI have to talk to you,” he said. “You don’t have to turn on the light.”
    He did not know whether she heard him or not, but a few seconds later the door opened silently. He pushed in on tiptoe and closed it behind him and then the room was aglow from the bedside lamp and she was standing beside it, her light-brown hair caught in a ribbon like a little girl’s, her slender form wrapped tightly in a figured robe.
    â€œAre you all right?” he said.
    â€œWhy, yes…. Yes, I’m all right.”
    And suddenly he was embarrassed. Grateful, but embarrassed too because he had come busting in here with the wind up, maybe scaring her, and for what? He wanted to take her in his arms, to touch her hair, and he was afraid she might not understand.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said as he tried to frame some apology. He would have said more if his glance had not strayed to the table and fastened on the little automatic pistol beside the lamp. “What’s that for?” he asked. “Did I frighten you?”
    She sat down on the edge of the bed before she replied, huddling slightly over her knees, her bare feet close together. “Someone else did, darling,” she said, and then she was talking fast, the words tumbling out in staccato whispers.
    He listened without interrupting, glad now that he had come and a certain pattern shaping up in his mind, so that when she finished he said:
    â€œAll he took was your handbag?… Was the office key in it?”
    â€œWhy—yes.”
    And so it was his turn and he told what had happened at Amanti’s office, forgetting in the beginning that she did not know there had been murder, that Colin Lambert was dead.
    She sat very still as his story unfolded, her shadowed eyes wide open, the mobile lips parted. He had never seen her quite like this before, and even as he tried to explain the night’s events a part of his mind was reserved for thoughts of her, and as it came to him once more how much he loved her he marveled again that such good fortune could happen so quickly….
    He had met Lynn twice at small parties