A Room to Die In by Jack Vance, Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page B

step was as
light as a young girl’s.
    She seemed
genuinely glad to see Ann. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
    “I followed your
directions, and here I am.”
    “Apparently I
got them right for once.” Jehane led Ann up to the terrace, which was being
extended or repaired. There was a fine view to the west over low hills and
forested valleys, with a gray glint of ocean far beyond. They entered the house
through a heavy oak door that opened into a vast high-ceilinged room built on
three levels. The lowest served as a lobby or foyer, the second as a living
room, the highest as a dining room. To the right, a half-octagonal rotunda
running from floor to ceiling overlooked the view. The walls were paneled in
dark wood, with details, accents, draperies, and rugs in unconventional colors:
black, scarlet, mauve, purple, black-green.
    A decidedly
unorthodox house, Ann thought, like no other house she had ever seen.
    She said as
much, and Jehane seemed pleased. “I designed it myself for friends. Then two
years ago we bought it from them.”
    “I think that’s
wonderful.”
    Jehane said, “When
I was a girl I decided to become an architect. Ridiculous, of course; there
simply aren’t women architects. But I went to architectural school, anyway.
This is what resulted.”
    “It’s a
beautiful house,” said Ann. “It has a romantic, impractical feel to it. Like a
fairy castle. I don’t mean,” she hastened to say, “that it’s really impractical.”
    “Oh, it probably
is,” said Jehane. “I’m both romantic and impractical. And who wants a house that’s dull? As a matter of
fact, I designed it for Rex and Pearl Orr. They were romantic and impractical,
too. When Rex died, Pearl wouldn’t live here. . . . But let me mix you a
daiquiri. I’ve just acquired an electric ice crusher, and I love to play with
it.”
    Ann accompanied
her to the top level and into the kitchen.
    “Alexander’s
still in bed,” said Jehane. “Sometimes he gets up before dawn; sometimes he
stays in bed till two. He’ll never get up at a normal hour.”
    There was the
faint far sound of a toilet flushing. Jehane listened, her head at a birdlike
tilt. “Alexander is greeting the day. He’ll be with us shortly.”
    Fresh lime
juice, Cointreau, rum went into a shaker with a cup of shaved ice; Jehane gave
the mixture a stir and served it in champagne goblets.
    “Mmm,” said Ann.
“I suddenly see that I need an ice shaver.”
    “It’s a
foolishly expensive gadget. But it’s fun.”
    “Foolish things
are always the most fun,” said Ann.
    “Yes, the things
in my life I regret the most are the wise things I’ve done.”
    After a moment
Ann asked, “Is Pearl Orr the Pearl my father married?”
    Jehane nodded. “Roland
met her here after Pearl sold us the house. I think she half regretted it—the
sale, I mean, not meeting Roland, because she was always visiting.”
    “I don’t blame
her. If I ever build a house, you can be the architect.”
    Jehane shook her
head with a wistful laugh. “I don’t think I’ll ever design another. You can run
into the most frightful headaches. There’s zoning, building inspectors,
headstrong contractors—heaven knows what-all.”
    Ann had a sudden
flash. “Was Martin Jones the contractor?”
    “Yes. How did
you know?”
    “I didn’t. But
when he appeared yesterday, you left, and rather abruptly.”
    Jehane nodded
slowly. “He built it.”
    “He’s a surly
brute. Good-looking, though.”
    Jehane made a
neutral gesture. “He goes on the defensive with attractive women.”
    “He’s not
married, then.”
    Jehane shook her
head. “There’s quite a story about Martin. He was engaged to an Inisfail girl—I
think they’d been sweethearts in high school. He built the house—where your
father lived—for himself and his bride. Last winter the girl flew to San Diego
to visit her sister, met a naval officer, and married him the next day. The
sister gave Martin the news over the