Page 53 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Road Kill

Then Labelle was back at my side. “I’ve just been talking to Ben
Dover,” she said, sotto voce, with her back to the man. “He’s probably
going to react violently in a moment or two, after the news sinks in.
He’s been carrying a torch for Sally. This ought to be interesting.”
Dover, like everyone else at the party, had not abstained from
strong drink that evening. He suddenly lurched to his feet, throwing
an empty Jolibrew bottle across the room. “Bean!” he yelled. “This is
your fault! Where are you, you son-of-a-bitch? What have you done
to her? Sally! No!”
Lon Durer collided with his near-hysterical guest. “Ben! Get hold
of yourself!” They waltzed beerily for a moment, then stumbled
apart. Dover ran toward the kitchen, screaming for Frank Bean’s
blood; Durer followed, croaking, “He’s not here, Ben, he’s not here.
I’ve been looking all over for him.”
“Miss Gramercy,” I said in a tone of genuine injury, “I thought
you were going to let me tell them about Sally,”
“Changed my mind. It might have inhibited Ben if you had told
him. He’s been jealous of Frank for months, and it struck me that in
his intoxicated condition he could be induced to reveal more than he
might otherwise.”
“Such as?”
“Just how intoxicated he really is.”
I mulled that over for a moment, and was about to ask her what
she had concluded, but the ursine figure of Harry Hofbrauer came
crashing out of the kitchen toward us. “What’s this?” he cried, “Is
she really dead?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. Nurse Chafee has taken possession of
the remains from the Jolibanan authorities.”
He stopped his agitation briefly, breathing heavily. It really was a
trial to be next to the man after he had consumed his favorite food
and beverage. “I’d better go to the office. Got to contact
Washington, notify the next of kin. Lots of paperwork, things to do.
So long.” He headed for the front door, suddenly sure of his mission.
“Hey, Lon!” he flung at his host, “Nice party, man! If I don’t see you
again before you go, good luck!”
Durer waved, and came up to us, a look of anguish in his bleary
eyes. “Ben’s gone. I don’t know where: out into the night, chasing
after Frank. Maybe he’ll cool off before he finds him. He knows

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