Odor of Violets, Baynard Kendrick [best short novels .txt] 📗

pointed. “In the workbench drawer. Moisten it with some gasoline from that copper oilcan.”

Cheli found the waste, moistened it, and wiped the Captain’s fingers clean.

“You’ve wonderful hands,” she told him.

“I’m fond of them myself,” he said, with a smile which brought out the humor in his sensitive features. “They’ve been very good friends to me.”

He sobered instantly. For twenty minutes his fingers roamed swiftly over the Bristol board, front and back. One by one he lifted the sheets from the pile, rerolled them, and fastened them with a rubber band.

Finally he lighted a cigarette, secured it more firmly in his holder, and drew a circle of smoke in the air. “What did you do with the tracings, Mr. Tredwill?”

“There haven’t been any tracings,” said Gil.

“Maybe not by you,” said Duncan Maclain. “I think we’d better go up. Somebody’s been eavesdropping on the basement stairs, but there’s no use running out. They’ve gone.” He picked up one of the rolls and held it to his nose. “I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Tredwill. I’m afraid your plans all smell of gasoline.”

CHAPTER XIV

NORMA STIRRED against the softness of her pillows. A weight was pressing down on the covers, binding them unpleasantly about her. She laughed when she recognized that the pressing weight was her untouched dinner tray. The laugh had a ring of hysteria.

Each piece of familiar furniture in her bedroom stood out harsh and unnatural, with deep, clearetched lines. Usually they blended into a harmonious picture, comforting and secure. Now they clashed—had clashed all day. Dr. Trotter’s so-called sedative had made her bed and bureau ugly; had given her a daytime nightmare of resting in the window of a secondhand furniture store.

She reached out beside her and rang for Pierce, then closed her eyes and lay motionless until the butler’s knock aroused her. He came in and said, “Perhaps I’d better call Dr. Trotter again, madam,” when he looked at the tray. “Or can I get you something else? You’ve had nothing but tea all day.”

“I’ll be all right, Pierce, if they’ll let me alone. Is there any word from Babs?”

“Nothing, madam.” He started out with the tray.

“Pierce.”

“Yes, madam.”

“This blind man, Captain Maclain? Thaddeus said he wanted to talk to me.”

“It can wait, madam. It’s nothing important, I’m sure.”

“He’s a detective, isn’t he?”

“I believe so, Mrs. Tredwill. He has two dogs with him—one which guides him and another one called Dreist.”

“You’ve fed them, haven’t you?”

“They’re being taken care of by Cappo, the Captain’s colored chauffeur.” The butler moved toward the door.

“Pierce.”

“Yes, madam.”

“I’ve decided to see him now. That interview’s worrying me. Ask him to come up, please.”

“Alone, madam?”

“Yes, alone.”

“Yes, Mrs. Tredwill. Just as you say.”

Norma stopped him again at the door. “Before I talk to Captain Maclain, Pierce, there’s something I’d like to know.”

The butler waited expectantly.

Norma pulled her negligee closer about her shoulders. The unconscious movement sent a twinge of sharp pain up her injured arm.

“Pierce, do you think anyone could have gotten into this house last night or after I left here yesterday?”

“I don’t know about yesterday, madam. The servants and I were in Hartford all afternoon. Miss Scott said we might go. Dominick drove us in in the big car. Bella was the only one here—she stayed to fix supper for Miss Scott. I hope you don’t mind, madam. We had some shopping to do.” Pierce shifted the weight of the tray.

“Not at all, Pierce. Go ahead and ask Captain Maclain to see me.”

“Yes, madam. As to anyone getting in here last night—frankly, madam, I don’t know.”

“Where is Bella now, Pierce?”

“She’s lying down, madam. The police questioned her this morning and she’s had a headache all day. I sent her to her room.”

“She’s a little too inquisitive, Pierce—and a little too fond of the Tredwill jam.”

“I’ll speak to her, madam.” He went out and softly closed the door.

Norma settled herself more comfortably and stared at the patterned wallpaper close to the ceiling. There was no point to involving herself and Babs in Paul’s murder. Some man had already confessed. Babs was bound to learn about it shortly and reappear with some plausible explanation as to why she went away.

It was better to talk with Captain Maclain immediately and avoid any suspicion of reticence. She had managed, so far, to keep her trip to New York a secret. It was true Thad had learned from Stacy about Babs’s appointment for dinner. But Norma had no intention of saying more; of breaking down the last doubt which Thad could cling to—a comforting doubt that Barbara had kept her date with Paul. If it was possible to fool the police and her husband’s family, Norma reflected, she certainly had nothing to fear from this blind man, Captain Maclain.

Her voice was determined and free of worry when she called “Come in!” to his knock. The dog came first, a beautiful German shepherd with lolling tongue. The Captain followed and paused just inside the door.

“Mrs. Tredwill?”

“Yes.” Norma stopped, touched with self-consciousness, wondering if she should direct him to a chair. The dog saved her the embarrassment by guiding Maclain directly to one near the bedside.

“I’m Duncan Maclain.” He touched the chair with a movement almost too swift to follow, found it free of encumbrances, and sat down. “And this is Schnucke.” The German shepherd acknowledged mention with a friendly wag of her tail.

Norma was silent, lost in the fascination of watching the Captain smile. Somehow she had formed an idea that blind men moved clumsily, and were generally shoddy. Duncan Maclain, quick and at ease, fitted the picture not at all.

His evening clothes were faultless. The neatness of his crisp black hair, and the insouciant touch to his white tie, attested to his chauffeur’s additional skill as a valet.

Nothing overshadowed his smile. It brought his face to life with a striking animation which called for response. Caught by its charm, Norma realized that most people wore masks through life. Maclain’s features spoke, showing character and pleasure, thought and ability, warming her with