Read Online Tenth Commandment by Lawrence Sanders - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lawrence Sanders
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the study.
It was a squarish chamber with a high-beamed ceiling.
There was another tiled fireplace, built-in bookcases, large cabinets for oversized books, magazines, journals, rolled-up maps.
There was a club chair upholstered in maroon leather, with a hassock to match. Alongside it was a drum table with a leather top chased with gold leaf. A silver tray on the drum table, bearing a new bottle of Rémy Martin cognac, sealed, and two brandy snifters. A green-shaded floor lamp stood in back of the chair.
In the centre of the study was a big desk with leather top and brass fittings, littered with papers, charts, maps, books, pencils and pens in several colours. Also, a magnifying glass, a pair of dividers, and a device that looked like an antique compass.
62
But it was the far wall that caught my eye. It was covered, from chair rail to ceiling, with model hull forms. I don't know whether you've ever seen hull models. They're made of hardwood, the hull sliced longitudinally. The flat side is fixed to the plaque. Each plaque bore a brass plate with the ship's name and date of construction. I stepped closer to examine them. I had never seen so many in one place, and never any as lovely.
Glynis had noted my interest. 'Father had them made by a man in Mystic, Connecticut. When he dies, there won't be anyone left in the country who can carve hull models from the plans of naval architects.'
'They're handsome,' I said.
'And expensive.'
But if that room had something to tell me, I couldn't hear it. I turned towards the door.
'Your father didn't have a safe?' I asked.
'No,' she said. 'And the drawers of his desk were unlocked.'
'Did he usually leave them unlocked?'
'I really don't know. Mrs Dark might.'
I was wondering if she'd want to be present while I questioned Mrs Dark, but I needn't have worried. She led me into the brightly lighted kitchen and said to the woman there: 'Effie, this is Mr Bigg. He's looking into Father's disappearance for the lawyers. Please answer his questions and tell him whatever he wants to know. Mr Bigg, this is Mrs Effie Dark. When you're finished here, I'm sure you can find your way back to the living room.' Then she turned and left.
Mrs Dark was a tub of a woman with three chins and a bosom that encircled her like a pneumatic tube. She had sausage arms, and ankles that lopped over nurse's shoes.
Stuck in that roly-poly face were bright little eyes, shiny as blueberries in a pie. Her hips were so wide, I knew she had to go through doors sideways.
63
'Mrs Dark,' I said, 'I hope I'm not disturbing you?'
'Why no,' she said. 'I'm just waiting for the water to boil, and then I'm going to have a nice cup of tea. Would you like one?'
'I'd love a cup of tea,' I lied.
She heaved herself to her feet and went to the counter.
While the tea was steeping, she set out cups, saucers, and spoons for us. I held my saucer up to the light and admired its translucence.
'Beautiful,' I said.
'Nothing but the best,' she said. 'When it came to his own comfort, he didn't stint.'
'How long have you been with the Stonehouse family, Mrs Dark?'
'Since the Year One,' she said. 'I was the Professor's cook and housekeeper whilst I was married and before he was. Then my mister got took, and the Professor got married, so I moved in with him and his family.'
I watched her pour us cups of russet-coloured tea. She held her cup in both hands and savoured the aroma before she took a sip. I did the same.
'Mrs Stonehouse and Glynis told me what happened the night the Professor disappeared,' I started. 'They said they noted nothing unusual in his behaviour that night. Did you?'
She thought a moment.
'Nooo,' she said, drawling it out. 'He was about the same as usual. He was a devil.' She tasted the word on her plump lips, seemed to like it, and repeated it forcefully: 'A devil! But I wouldn't take any guff from him, and he knew it. He liked my cooking, and I kept the place nice for him.
He knew his wife couldn't run this
It was a squarish chamber with a high-beamed ceiling.
There was another tiled fireplace, built-in bookcases, large cabinets for oversized books, magazines, journals, rolled-up maps.
There was a club chair upholstered in maroon leather, with a hassock to match. Alongside it was a drum table with a leather top chased with gold leaf. A silver tray on the drum table, bearing a new bottle of Rémy Martin cognac, sealed, and two brandy snifters. A green-shaded floor lamp stood in back of the chair.
In the centre of the study was a big desk with leather top and brass fittings, littered with papers, charts, maps, books, pencils and pens in several colours. Also, a magnifying glass, a pair of dividers, and a device that looked like an antique compass.
62
But it was the far wall that caught my eye. It was covered, from chair rail to ceiling, with model hull forms. I don't know whether you've ever seen hull models. They're made of hardwood, the hull sliced longitudinally. The flat side is fixed to the plaque. Each plaque bore a brass plate with the ship's name and date of construction. I stepped closer to examine them. I had never seen so many in one place, and never any as lovely.
Glynis had noted my interest. 'Father had them made by a man in Mystic, Connecticut. When he dies, there won't be anyone left in the country who can carve hull models from the plans of naval architects.'
'They're handsome,' I said.
'And expensive.'
But if that room had something to tell me, I couldn't hear it. I turned towards the door.
'Your father didn't have a safe?' I asked.
'No,' she said. 'And the drawers of his desk were unlocked.'
'Did he usually leave them unlocked?'
'I really don't know. Mrs Dark might.'
I was wondering if she'd want to be present while I questioned Mrs Dark, but I needn't have worried. She led me into the brightly lighted kitchen and said to the woman there: 'Effie, this is Mr Bigg. He's looking into Father's disappearance for the lawyers. Please answer his questions and tell him whatever he wants to know. Mr Bigg, this is Mrs Effie Dark. When you're finished here, I'm sure you can find your way back to the living room.' Then she turned and left.
Mrs Dark was a tub of a woman with three chins and a bosom that encircled her like a pneumatic tube. She had sausage arms, and ankles that lopped over nurse's shoes.
Stuck in that roly-poly face were bright little eyes, shiny as blueberries in a pie. Her hips were so wide, I knew she had to go through doors sideways.
63
'Mrs Dark,' I said, 'I hope I'm not disturbing you?'
'Why no,' she said. 'I'm just waiting for the water to boil, and then I'm going to have a nice cup of tea. Would you like one?'
'I'd love a cup of tea,' I lied.
She heaved herself to her feet and went to the counter.
While the tea was steeping, she set out cups, saucers, and spoons for us. I held my saucer up to the light and admired its translucence.
'Beautiful,' I said.
'Nothing but the best,' she said. 'When it came to his own comfort, he didn't stint.'
'How long have you been with the Stonehouse family, Mrs Dark?'
'Since the Year One,' she said. 'I was the Professor's cook and housekeeper whilst I was married and before he was. Then my mister got took, and the Professor got married, so I moved in with him and his family.'
I watched her pour us cups of russet-coloured tea. She held her cup in both hands and savoured the aroma before she took a sip. I did the same.
'Mrs Stonehouse and Glynis told me what happened the night the Professor disappeared,' I started. 'They said they noted nothing unusual in his behaviour that night. Did you?'
She thought a moment.
'Nooo,' she said, drawling it out. 'He was about the same as usual. He was a devil.' She tasted the word on her plump lips, seemed to like it, and repeated it forcefully: 'A devil! But I wouldn't take any guff from him, and he knew it. He liked my cooking, and I kept the place nice for him.
He knew his wife couldn't run this
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