ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? by Hulbert Footner Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hulbert Footner
Tags: Murder
Lee had not realized that girls so young had babies. The baby looked enormous; he didn't see how such a little woman could possibly have produced it. "Well, as long as you're here you may as well come in," he said gracelessly.
She glided in and, dropping on a chair behind the settee, started nervously to unfasten the baby's jacket and cap. "I'm not preparing to make a stay," she said deprecatingly, "but I'm afraid he might catch cold when we go out again."
Lee, inexperienced with babies, was very ill at ease in the presence of the unfamiliar. He had no idea how old the child might be; he was able to sit up but had clearly not reached the walking or talking stage. She took his cap off and smoothed down the fuzz on his head.
"Hasn't got much more hair than I have," said Lee grimly.
"He will have," she said quickly. "See how thickly it's coming in."
Lee declined to approach. "How old is he?"
"Going on nine months...Weighs eighteen pounds," she added proudly.
"Good Lord, how did you do it!" said Lee.
She blushed. "That's what everybody asks me. I guess the size of the mother doesn't make much difference."
The baby looked around the room with a bland expression. Lee, he ignored in the most insulting fashion, but that pleased Lee; at least, the baby was not going to try to get around him. When she had taken off his outer things, his mother planted him on the rug in front of the fire. It was a rare Bokhara.
"Hadn't you better put something under him?" suggested Lee.
"He has his rubber pants on," his mother said, a little hurt.
Lee blushed. There was a silence. The baby evidently enjoyed the fire for he crowed and bounced two or three times on his fundament. Lee felt softer feelings stealing over him. "What's his name?" he asked.
"Alastair," she said with a lift in her voice, "but we call him Lester."
That name chilled Lee. Spawn of the devil! he thought.
"My name is Charlotte," she added naïvely.
"Have you breakfasted?" Lee asked, with stiff politeness.
"Oh, yes, thank you." Such a pretty little brown-haired girl, sensitive, prone to blush, her face revealing quick changes of expression.
Lee jerked his head toward the little Buddha on the rug. "Isn't there something I can get for him?"
"A soda cracker, perhaps, if you would be so good. He's always hungry."
Lee rang for Jermyn and ordered soda crackers, looking very stern. Jermyn's face was like wood. When he brought the crackers the young mother offered one to her child. He knew what to do with it. Calmly accepting it, he conveyed it to his mouth and returned his gaze to the fire.
After an awkward period Lee and Mrs. Yohe found themselves talking together naturally enough.
"You know why I am here," she said simply. "It is to beg you to receive my husband. Our happiness, our very lives depend upon it." She nodded toward the child. "And his. He has such a long time to live!"
"I'm afraid it is impossible," said Lee.
"My husband is innocent."
"How do you know?"
"He told me so."
Lee smiled.
Mrs. Yohe blushed, but spoke up with spirit. "I'm not just a fond and foolish little wife. I have no illusions about my husband. He has told me many painful truths, heartbreaking truths, but he has never lied to me.
"But in this case wouldn't he be justified in lying?"
"Certainly. But I know him so well that if he was lying for the first time some change in his voice, in his expression would warn me of it."
"If he's innocent, for heaven's sake why doesn't he face the music?"
"Ah, he's a strange, wild creature, Mr. Mappin. To be confined would kill him."
Lee said nothing. His expression was politely incredulous.
"He has other reasons," she went on. "I don't know what they are, but they seem sufficient to him. I'm not claiming that he is very wise, Mr. Mappin. Like all manly men, he's as stubborn as the devil. Oh, if you would only consent to see him; I am certain he would do whatever you advised. Look, he thinks you have one of the keenest minds of the day. If he were
She glided in and, dropping on a chair behind the settee, started nervously to unfasten the baby's jacket and cap. "I'm not preparing to make a stay," she said deprecatingly, "but I'm afraid he might catch cold when we go out again."
Lee, inexperienced with babies, was very ill at ease in the presence of the unfamiliar. He had no idea how old the child might be; he was able to sit up but had clearly not reached the walking or talking stage. She took his cap off and smoothed down the fuzz on his head.
"Hasn't got much more hair than I have," said Lee grimly.
"He will have," she said quickly. "See how thickly it's coming in."
Lee declined to approach. "How old is he?"
"Going on nine months...Weighs eighteen pounds," she added proudly.
"Good Lord, how did you do it!" said Lee.
She blushed. "That's what everybody asks me. I guess the size of the mother doesn't make much difference."
The baby looked around the room with a bland expression. Lee, he ignored in the most insulting fashion, but that pleased Lee; at least, the baby was not going to try to get around him. When she had taken off his outer things, his mother planted him on the rug in front of the fire. It was a rare Bokhara.
"Hadn't you better put something under him?" suggested Lee.
"He has his rubber pants on," his mother said, a little hurt.
Lee blushed. There was a silence. The baby evidently enjoyed the fire for he crowed and bounced two or three times on his fundament. Lee felt softer feelings stealing over him. "What's his name?" he asked.
"Alastair," she said with a lift in her voice, "but we call him Lester."
That name chilled Lee. Spawn of the devil! he thought.
"My name is Charlotte," she added naïvely.
"Have you breakfasted?" Lee asked, with stiff politeness.
"Oh, yes, thank you." Such a pretty little brown-haired girl, sensitive, prone to blush, her face revealing quick changes of expression.
Lee jerked his head toward the little Buddha on the rug. "Isn't there something I can get for him?"
"A soda cracker, perhaps, if you would be so good. He's always hungry."
Lee rang for Jermyn and ordered soda crackers, looking very stern. Jermyn's face was like wood. When he brought the crackers the young mother offered one to her child. He knew what to do with it. Calmly accepting it, he conveyed it to his mouth and returned his gaze to the fire.
After an awkward period Lee and Mrs. Yohe found themselves talking together naturally enough.
"You know why I am here," she said simply. "It is to beg you to receive my husband. Our happiness, our very lives depend upon it." She nodded toward the child. "And his. He has such a long time to live!"
"I'm afraid it is impossible," said Lee.
"My husband is innocent."
"How do you know?"
"He told me so."
Lee smiled.
Mrs. Yohe blushed, but spoke up with spirit. "I'm not just a fond and foolish little wife. I have no illusions about my husband. He has told me many painful truths, heartbreaking truths, but he has never lied to me.
"But in this case wouldn't he be justified in lying?"
"Certainly. But I know him so well that if he was lying for the first time some change in his voice, in his expression would warn me of it."
"If he's innocent, for heaven's sake why doesn't he face the music?"
"Ah, he's a strange, wild creature, Mr. Mappin. To be confined would kill him."
Lee said nothing. His expression was politely incredulous.
"He has other reasons," she went on. "I don't know what they are, but they seem sufficient to him. I'm not claiming that he is very wise, Mr. Mappin. Like all manly men, he's as stubborn as the devil. Oh, if you would only consent to see him; I am certain he would do whatever you advised. Look, he thinks you have one of the keenest minds of the day. If he were