Black money by Ross MacDonald Read Free Book Online

another minute, please. I'm trying to finish a sentence."

    He scratched at his head with the blunt end of his pen, and jotted something down. His coppery brown hair had a frost of gray at the edges. I saw what he eventually got up that he was a short man, and at least ten years older than his handsome wife. He had probably been handsome, too, with his sensitive mouth and clean features. But he looked as if he had had a recent illness, and the eyes behind his reading glasses were haunted by the memory of it. His handshake was cold.

    "How are you, Mr. Archer? How are you, Peter? Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I snatch these precious moments of concentration from the Bergsonian flux. With a twelve-hour teaching load and all the preparation it entails, it isn't easy to get anything written. I envy Flaubert the luxury he had of spending whole days in search of the right world, le mot juste-"

    Tappinger seemed to have the professional habit of non-stop talking. I interrupted him: "What are you working on?"

    "A book, if I can ever get the time to do it. My subject is the French influence on modern American literature - at the moment I'm studying the vexed question of Stephen Crane. But that wouldn't interest you. Peter tells me you're a detective."

    "Yes. I'm trying to get some information about a man named Francis Martel. Have you run into him? "I doubt it, but his name is certainly interesting. It's one of the ancient names of France."

    "Martel is supposed to be a Frenchman. His story is that he's a political refugee."

    "How old is he?"

    "About thirty."

    I described him: "He's a man of medium height, trim and fast on his feet. Black hair, black eyes, dark complexion. He has a French accent which varies from strong to weak."

    "And you think he's putting it on?"

    "I don't know. If he's a phony, he's fooled quite a few people. I'm trying to find out who and what he really is."

    "Reality is an illusive thing," Tappinger said sententiously. "What do you want me to do - listen to his French and pronounce on its authenticity?"

    He was only half serious, but I answered him seriously: "That might be a good idea, if we could work it out. But Martel is on the point of leaving town. I thought if you could provide me with a few questions that only an educated Frenchman could answer -"

    "You wish me to prepare a test, is that it?"

    "With the answers."

    "I suppose I can do that. When do you need it? Tomorrow?"

    "Right now."

    "That's simply impossible."

    "But he may be leaving any minute."

    "I can't help that!"

    Tappinger's voice had risen womanishly. "I have forty papers to read tonight - those bureaucrats at the college don't even provide me with a student reader. I have no time for my own children -"

    I said: "Okay, we'll skip it. It wasn't a very good idea in the first place."

    "But we have to do something," Peter said. "I'll be glad to pay you for your time, professor."

    "I don't want your money. All I want is the free use of my own days."

    Tappinger was practically wailing.

    His wife opened the kitchen door and looked out. Her face was set in a look of concern, which somehow gave the impression that it had been blunted by use.

    "What's the trouble, Daddy?"

    "Nothing, and don't call me Daddy. I'm not that much older than you are."

    She lifted and dropped one shoulder in a gesture of physical contempt and looked at me. "Is something the matter out here?"

    "We seem to be getting on your husband's nerves. This wasn't a good time to come."

    Tappinger said to his wife in a quieter tone: "It's nothing that need concern you, Bess. I'm supposed to prepare some questions to test a certain man's knowledge of French."

    "Is that all?"

    "That's all."

    She closed the kitchen door. Tappinger turned to us: "Forgive the elevation of the voice. I've got a headache."

    He pressed his hand to his pale rounded forehead. " I suppose I can do this work for you now - I've expended twice the energy just talking about it - but I