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Show B i-Jl',1.!. ." . k1..'.' LI'. ' ' I" - SYNOPSIS Brooke Reyburn visits the office of Jed Stewart, a lawyer, to discuss the terms of an estate she has inherited from Mrs. Mary Amanda Dane. Unwittingly Unwit-tingly she overhears Jed talking to Mark Trent, a nephew of Mrs. Dane who has been disinherited. Mrs. Dane had lived at Lookout House, a huge structure on the sea, built by her father and divided Into two, for her and Mark's father. Brooke had been a fashion expert, and Mrs. Dane, a "shut-in," hearing her on the radio had invited her to call and developed de-veloped a deep affection for her. Mark discloses that Mrs. Dane had threatened to disinherit him if he married Lola, from whom he is now divorced. He says he does not trust Henri and Clotilde Jacques, Mrs. Dane's servants. He says he is not interested in an offer of Brooke's to share the estate with him. Leaving her department store job, Brooke refuses an offer to "go stepping" Willi Jerry Field, a carefree young man who wants to marry her. At a family conference she learns she must live at Lookout House alone, since Lucette, her younger sister who is taking her job, her brother, Sam, a young playwright, and her mother plan to stay in the city. Jed and Mark are astounded when they hear from Mrs. Gregory, a family friend, that she had witnessed a hitherto unknown un-known will with Henri and Clotilde two weeks before Mrs. Dane died. Brooke had arrived just as she was leaving. Jed suggests that Mark open his part of Lookout House, get friendly with Brooke and try to find out about the will. Jed agrees to stay with him. Mark accepts Brooke's invitation for a family Thanksgiving Thanks-giving dinner at Lookout. Mrs. Reyburn announces on Thanksgiving eve that she has been invited to England. Sam and Lucette decide to move in with Brooke and Sam plans to produce a new play locally. After the Thanksgiving dinner Brooke tells Mark that little of Mrs. Dane's silver collection is left. Jerry Field and his sister Daphne drop In and announce they will be neighbors for the winter. Sam adds them to the cast of his play. CHAPTER IV Continued Mark Trent stopped speaking to stare at the ceiling. Had a door banged overhead, or had he imagined imag-ined the sound? The servants, Taku and Kowa, were in the kitchen at this time of day; they wouldn't be on the third floor anyway, he had not had that opened up, plenty of room below for Jed and himself. A man entered the room with a purposeful stride. He was ample of jowl, slightly opulent as to waistline; waist-line; he had the flinty eyes of an eagle who can stare straight at the sun. A sense of force was his outstanding out-standing characteristic. "Here I am, Mark. That Jap outside out-side wanted to bow me in, but I shooed him off." Inspector Bill Harrison's Har-rison's voice was surprisingly soft with a persuasive inflection. "Glad you've come, Inspector. This is my friend Jed Stewart." Inspector Harrison nodded. "How are you, Mr. Stewart. Does he know about the silver, Mark?" He lowered low-ered himself into a deep chair and accepted a cigar. "Yes, he's staying here to help me us solve the mystery." ' "What else have you lost?" "Why do you think we've lost anything any-thing else?" "Would you two city guys come to this burg to stay just to find a lot of ' silverware?" "It's more than mere silverware; the pieces are antiques of great value." Inspector Harrison pulled himself from the enticing crimson depths to his feet. "All right, Mark, have it your own : way, but I ain't mixin' up in a case where folks are holding out on me. I work best when the interested ' party works with me. Get that?" Mark's laugh was quick and disarming. dis-arming. "Hold everything, Bill Harrison; , you can't walk out on us like that. Sit down again. Jed, tell him what ' Mrs. Gregory told us about the will : she witnessed. You understand, Inspector, In-spector, that there may be nothing to it so it's off the record." "Say, Mark, do you suppose I climbed up on the force by talking my head off? I play the rules. Spill it, Mr. Stewart." Stewart repeated. Mrs. Gregory's astonishing announcement that she had witnessed a will of Mary Amanda Dane's of a date later than the will allowed; told of the decision of Mark and himself to turn detectives de-tectives and of their absolute un-success un-success to date. Inspector Bill Harrison blew a perfect smoke ring. "Did Mrs. Gregory say there was anyone else present but Mrs. Dane and the other witnesses when she signed?" "No." Mark Trent's answer was nothing short of explosive. The inspector's soft grudging laugh, in such marked contrast to his bird-of-prey eyes, brought guilty color to his face. It wasn't keeping back information not to tell that Brooke Reyburn had driven in that afternoon just as Mrs. Gregory had driven out from Lookout House, was it? Inspector Bill Harrison rose. With a cigar tucked in one corner of his mouth, he nodded. "I'll be going. Guess I've got all the dope. Don't give that Henri Jacques and his wife the idea that you've missed the silver. Let it drop out of their minds. When you have any news, come to headquarters, headquar-ters, don't phone. That reminds me. Know anything about the people who've started the filling station here on the point?" "No. But I understand that Henri Jacques is recommending them." , "Oh, he is? That Henri's just naturally nat-urally helpful, ain't he? Well, I must get back." He added in his soft persuasive per-suasive voice: "Whenever you're ready to come across with the name of the other party who was in the neighborhood of Lookout House the day that last will of Mrs. Dane's was signed, Mark, I'm just across the causeway. cause-way. I'll be seeing you." "Don't go yet, Bill!" He mustn't leave thinking that he and Jed were holding out on him, Mark realized. Jed Stewart grabbed Mark's shoulder. "Hold on, Mark. See who's here!" Mark Trent turned. Surprise brought him to his feet, wiped the smile from his lips. That couldn't be Lola on the threshold! It was. Hunt, her name was now, Lola Hunt, he must remember. "Say, Mark, I'll be making my get-away." He nodded response to Bill Harrison's Harri-son's mumble. Knew when he opened the door which led to the print room and vanished. Evidently the inspector didn't care to meet Lola. Who did? With the question Mark thrust his hands hard into his coat pockets and took a step forward. for-ward. "Well?" The sound was more a growl than a word, he realized, as he looked steadily at the woman who had been his wife. Had been. At last he had come to think of her in the past tense. It had taken three years to accomplish that. The shame, the humiliation, the unbearable heartache heart-ache he had suffered in the years they had lived together swept over him in a sickening tide. What did she want now? She was the type of woman who constantly and everlastingly everlast-ingly wanted something. Wasn't he giving her enough? There had been no justice in his giving her anything, any-thing, but when she had written him that her current husband was out of a job and that she was hungry, hun-gry, what could he do but make her an allowance till the man found work? Her clothing had a cheap smartness; the dark brilliance of her eyes was intensified by artificial shadows; her skin was thick and flushed; her short black hair needed trimming; her mouth drooped at the corners. She pouted lips which resembled re-sembled nothing so much as a bloody smear. "Don't stare at me as if I were a ghost from out a purple past, Mark. I told your Jap that I was an old friend, that I wanted to surprise sur-prise you. I hate to keep the gentlemen gentle-men standing. Won't you ask me to sit down?" Without waiting for an answer, she sank into the large chair before be-fore the fire. "Still pals you two, aren't you? Funny how much longer friendship lasts between men than love between be-tween a man and woman. Mark, I came here to taik to you. Jed, you may go." Mark Trent's hand closed on Stewart's arm with a grip which turned his nails white. "Jed will stay and hear what you have to say. Surely we can have no secrets from the man who saw us through the c'.ivorce court." She shrugged. "All right with me. I've nothing to lose. Thought you might object to having what I say get on the air." "Methinks the lady is implying that I'm a gossip." "I don't like the twist you gave that 'lady,' Jed Stewart. Don't shake your head at the Jap, Mark. Why shouldn't I have a cup of tea with you? I'm famished. Place it here." The servant looked at Mark Trent before he pressed the springs which released the legs of the tray he was carrying and set it before the woman. wom-an. He brought in a muffin stand with sandwiches and cakes. "You needn't wait," she dismissed dis-missed the man as if she were the mistress of the house. Mark nodded nod-ded confirmation as the Jap's eyes sought his. Did he know that the woman so dictatorially giving orders or-ders had been his wife? Side by side the two men watched her, watched her restless hands. Once she had been told by a stag that her hands were like pale butterflies, butter-flies, Mark remembered, and they had fluttered ever since. In the silence si-lence the tick of the clock set the air vibrating; the fire snapped and blazed cheerily; the tide against the ledges boomed a dull undertone. Lola Hunt Hung a crumpled doily to the table. "Now a cigarette, Mark, and I shall be ready to proceed with my story." "Sorry, haven't any." She raised brows which had been plucked to a thin arch. "You do want to get rid of me, don't you. Well, I strive to please." She rose and crossed to the desk. With a glance over her shoulder, she opened a box of Chinese lacquer. "You see I still know my way around. Oh, by the way, your aunt's legatee is living at Lookout House, I hear. Henri wrote me " "Henri!" "Yes. I always got on with Henri, Hen-ri, perhaps because he knew that I detested your aunt as much as he did. He wrote that Miss Reyburn evidently didn't like his wife and himself, asked if I would give him a reference in case they lost the position." Was that all Henri Jacques had written, Mark wondered. There was a hint of mockery in Lola's voice and eyes. What was behind that letter? He watched her thoughtfully as she perched on the corner of the desk, crossed her knees and lighted a cigarette. She blew a ring of smoke toward the two men standing stand-ing back to the fire. "Forgot these were in the box, didn't you, Mark? You really should do something about your memory; it's slipping." Her eyes and voice sharpened. "Well, here's my news. Bert Hunt he's my present husband, hus-band, in case you've forgotten is planning to go into business in the residential part of this town, has gone, in fact. I shall help' when he's rushed or indisposed. When I heard that you'd opened this house, ! I thought perhaps you wouldn't care to have your former wife working I've been warned that I've been taking chances with my heart that perhaps you'd like to buy us off. ,,With $20,000 we could go- abroad and stay for a time. Don't stand there like a bronze Nemesis ready to swoop. Nothing shameful about any kind of a job these days, is there?" Mark Trent laughed. It was not an especially merry burst of sound, but it would serve. "Do you call extortion a job? Nothing doing, Lola. Your heart! You've used your weak heart as an "You Do Want to Get Kid of Me, Don't You?" excuse to get what you wanted for years. Why should I deprive the tewn of Hunt's business ability and so charming an assistant?" She slid to her feet. Her face, which had been blank with amazement amaze-ment at his laugh, went white with anger. "You mean that you don't mind my working here?" "If it's what you like, why should I? But," his face was as colorless as hers, "if you do stay in this town, the allowance I am making you which, you may remember, is purely voluntary will stop." "Are you threatening me?" "Not for a minute. I'm merely reminding you " "Then I'll remind you that it may cost you more " "Mrs. Gregory, . Miss Reyburn," murmured Kowa at the door. Mrs. Gregory registered amazement amaze-ment and anger when she saw Lola. Her skin mottled, her eyes flashed as she thumped her cane on the rug and went into action. "What are you doing in this house, Lola?" "I might ask you that." Lola Hunt's eyes moved insolently from her to the girl beside her. "Matchmaking "Match-making mayhap? As I remember it was one of your passions." Her glance brought color io Brooke Reyburn' s face. "Just as cheap in your answers as ever, aren't you, Lola? Wisecracking, Wise-cracking, I believe they call it now. Don't tell me you have taken her back, Mark." "Taken me back! That's the joke of the week. He couldn't get me back." Lola Hunt pulled the silver fox cape about her shoulders and drew on the fabric gloves. "So glad to have met you here, Mrs. Gregory. It will save sending you a card." Anne Gregory's face took on a purple tint. She thumped her cane on the rug. "A card! A card to what, you brazen hussy?" Lola Hunt shrugged. "Don't try to stop her, Mark. She would call a woman who chose to live her life according to modern ideas of marriage, mar-riage, a hussy. You'd know that from her clothes, they're so do liciously Victorian. I really must go." She stopped on the threshold. "Dear Mrs. Gregory, I didn't answer an-swer your question, did I? The card to which I referred is an invitation to patronize the business which we have started in my old home on the point. You remember that house, I am sure, remember how you and your friends tried to freeze out the girl who came there to live. She didn't freeze, did she? She burned up a few of the husbands and all the lads. Is it any more shocking for me to go into business than for some of your pet socialites to sponsor cigarettes, soap, or bedding bed-ding in every magazine in the country?" coun-try?" She turned to Brooke. "You are Miss Reyburn, aren't you? I'll give you a tip. Had I been left the late, not too lamented, lament-ed, Mary Amanda Dane's money, I would be wondering why her rightful right-ful heir and his lawyer had camped down in the house next to mine, why they were hob-nobbing with Inspector In-spector Bill Harrison." She looked back over her shoulder. shoul-der. "Think over my proposition, Mark, darling. It may be cheaper for you in the end." CHAPTER V Lola Hunt's malicious laugh lingered lin-gered eerily in the silence which followed fol-lowed her theatrical exit from the room. Somewhere a door closed with a bang which clanged through the house. Her spiteful warning struck like an irritating burr in Brooke Rey-burn's Rey-burn's mind. She glanced at the two men standing back to the fire: Stewart's eyes, still on the doorway, smoldered with anger; the tortured look in Mark Trent's hurt her unbearably; un-bearably; even with his pride knifed, his courtesy had been invincible. in-vincible. The woman had warned him also. Why think of him, she asked herself angrily. Better have her mind on what Mrs. Hunt had insinuated. Had those two men come to live in this house because they suspected her, Brooke Reyburn, Rey-burn, of dishonestly influencing Mary Amanda Dane? If so, what could they do about it? Drag her into court? Was that why Inspector Harrison had been with them? It was fantastic, incredible, yet hadn't she wondered times without number num-ber why they, city men so obviously, should have come to this village for the winter? As if her thoughts had drawn his eyes to her, Mark Trent regretted: "Sorry, Miss Reyburn, that you should have been bored with a scene." He pressed a bell beside the fireplace. fire-place. With a little snort of anger, Anne Gregory settled heavily into a chair and flung back her sable cape. The color of her face suggested a red-hot balloon. Temper and voice blew up. "How about me, Mark? Do you think I liked meeting that shameless shame-less woman here? Shameless! Perhaps Per-haps I'm too hard on Lola. She was right. We old residents did our best to snub her when she came here to live, and she did have every man in the place parking on her doorstep sooner or later. And what did Lola mean, she hoped I'd patronize the business she and her husband were about to start?" . "She didn't say what sort of business, busi-ness, did she? Let's forget her. Let me take your coat, Miss Reyburn." Trent stood behind Brooke as the servant appeared in the doorway. "Kowa, take out the tray and bring fresh tea." Mrs. Gregory removed her gloves and resumed cross-examination. "Did Lola really mean that she and her present husband are going into business in this village?" "What's strange in that? It's being be-ing done every day." Mark Trent crossed his arms on the mantel and stared at the fire. In spite of her suspicion of his motive in coming to live next door to Lookout House, Brooke's sympathy sympa-thy surged out to him. Why didn't Mrs. Gregory drop the subject of the Hunts? Couldn't she see that he was sick at heart over the whole sordid situation? With more kindness kind-ness than finesse, Jed Stewart plunged into the breach. "Has that pair of Japanese goldfish gold-fish I ordered for you arrived yet, Mrs. Gregory?" Anne Gregory looked up at him with eyes made shrewd by years of living, by joys, by uprooted affections, affec-tions, by hopes unrealized. She shook her head. "You can't sidetrack me, young man, even with goldfish. I mean to get at what Lola is after not merely customers, I am sure of that, she was here to hound Mark, I know her. I'll see that she doesn't get a license to carry on business on this point. I still have influence. Miss Reyburn will pour the tea," she directed, as Kowa approached her with the replenished tray. Involuntarily Brooke looked at Mark Trent. He smiled. (TO BE CONTINUED) |