Read Online The Case of the Gilded Fly by Edmund Crispin - Free Book Online Page A

parties, nothing will.’
    â€˜It was pretty beastly. Are you sure you can manage?’
    â€˜Yes. It’s not far.’ She made as if to go; then, turning, said hesitantly:
    â€˜Yseut’s not bad, you know. Just silly.’ A slight smile lit up her face. On an impulse, he went up to her and pressed her hand. Yseut, clinging to her arm, was mumbling inanely.
    â€˜God bless you, my very dearest,’ he said. And then they were gone.
    When he got upstairs again, the party was already beginning to break up. The guests went down the stairs in twos and threes, yawning and chattering. Nigel found Rachel standing by herself while Robert gave Jean some instructions for the next morning.
    â€˜How dare that girl make a fool of Robert like that, in front of everybody!’ she exclaimed.
    â€˜Of course nobody blames Robert,’ he answered. ‘Why should they? It’s not his fault.’
    â€˜I don’t think he’s altogether averse to having her hanging on to him,’ she said with a sudden venom that astonished him.
    â€˜But surely you don’t think –?’
    She dismissed the subject with an impatient gesture. ‘Robert’s like all other men: any change is a change for the better. But if he, or she, imagines I’m going to sit by and play the tolerant –’
    She stopped abruptly. Nigel felt acutely uncomfortable. Another thread! he thought. This situation is certainly getting unpleasantly complicated.
    After the farrago of ‘good nights’ Nigel and Nicholas found themselves alone with Peter Graham. The amount of drink he had had suddenly took effect in an unexpected manner, and while they were still talking to him he collapsed into a chair and began to snore profoundly. Nicholas sighed.
    â€˜Now, I suppose, we shall have to put him to bed,’ he said.
    This with some difficulty they accomplished. When they came out into the sitting-room again, Nicholas looked about him in disgust, at the empty bottles, dirty glasses, flowers scattered or broken, furniture disarranged, a blue haze of cigarette smoke and innumerable cigarette stubs, more or less concentrated round ash-trays. ‘What a filthy mess this place is in,’he said. ‘I pity the poor devil who has to clear it up.’ He yawned and stretched. ‘Oh, well, bed, I suppose. Coming?’ Nigel nodded.
    When they were out in the corridor, Nicholas said: ‘Oh Lord, I’ve got a foul headache. If I don’t get some fresh air I shall never sleep. I’m going out for a stroll. What about you?’
    â€˜No, thanks. If I want any fresh air I shall stick my head out of the window.’
    â€˜Right you are,’ said Nicholas amiably. ‘But mind the blackout. By the way,’ he added, ‘what was that Rachel was saying to you before she left? I thought I heard some strictures on our admirable sex.’
    â€˜The usual paean in praise of Yseut.’
    â€˜Oh, that!’ Nicholas laughed. ‘Rachel hates that girl. The “cool, sensible woman” pose wouldn’t deceive a babe. She loathes her.’
    â€˜
Is
it a pose?’ Nigel ventured.
    Nicholas shrugged. ‘Who knows? I think it is, anyway. “Men are all the same”,’ he quoted mockingly. ‘“Any change is a change for the better.”’
    â€˜Isn’t that so?’
    â€˜Any change, however good, is a change for the worse,’ said Nicholas firmly. ‘Enough of this chatter, anyway. Good night to ye.’ He went off downstairs, and Nigel returned to his room and began to undress.
    In the long corridors of the hotel, the main lights had long since been extinguished; only a few pale, widely-spaced glims remained. Peter Graham groaned, and turned uneasily in his sleep. In the big entrance hall, lit only by a single bulb in the roof, the night porter dozed uncomfortably in his box, and so failed to see either the person who flitted silently up the big