Page 84 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective
P. 84

Cat’s Paw

        the point, while I stirred the sugar in my coffee far beyond the point
        of maximum miscibility.
            “I can see you’re a trustworthy man, Lance. Sometimes I get these
        feelings  about  people,  and  I’m  never  wrong.  You  know  what  I
        mean?”  I  nodded,  in  encouragement  if  not  agreement.  “Well,  ever
        since  Art  died,  I’ve  been  very  uneasy.  Not  just  because  he’s  gone,
        because  we  weren’t  all  that  close,  but  I  keep  feeling  something  is
        wrong. I think it’s that woman.”
            I had no doubt to whom she referred. “Oh?”
            “You  see,  even  though  they’re  divorced,  he  supposedly  never
        changed his will. And it’s all in her favor. I just can’t believe those
        were his last wishes. You’ve been inside his house. Maybe he forgot
        about that old will she produced about ten minutes after he died. Or
        maybe he just couldn’t find it! I think she had it all the time, and then
        got in there and destroyed any newer one he’d written. She won’t let
        me  inside  to  look  for  it.  Who  knows  what’s  hidden  among  his
        papers? So I’ve gotten a lawyer. I’m going to fight her on every point
        of law he can dig up, do you understand?”
            Her demeanor had transformed into that of an avenging angel. A
        tiny pounding fist emphasized her final remarks, and I had to steady
        the dancing mugs.  “I think so,” I  said,  as calmly as possible.  “But
        how can I help?”
            She  looked  at  me  with  piteous  blue  eyes.  “Oh,  would  you?  I’m
        ever so grateful! I just knew you’d be my friend.” And the sun shone
        again. “What are you looking for in my brother’s house?”
            I considered. Mallard Books had a signed contract with Art Lesley.
        That  was,  or  could  be  made  to  be,  a  matter  of  public  record.  No
        reason not to oblige the little lady. “He made a book deal with us,
        Hope,  and  passed  away  before  he  could  deliver  his  end  of  the
        bargain.  The  estate  is  obligated  to  produce  the  manuscript  he
        promised. We gave him an advance for it.”
            “Oh.”  A  slightly  puzzled  look  briefly  crossed  her  eyes.  “So  it’s
        business, after all.”
            “What  did  you  expect?  And  how  did  you  know  I  worked  for
        Mallard?”
            “Art did mention to me that he was in contact with your employer,
        and I know your offices are in this building. I just put two and two
        together, Lance.”

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