McNally's Dilemma by Lawrence Sanders, Vincent Lardo Read Free Book Online Page B

that ever occur to you?”
    “If you’re referring to his prowess in the bedroom, Archy, just say so.”
    “I would, if that’s what I was referring to.”
    She rolled down the window and discarded her cigarette. Waste not, want not was a tenet I lived by, but didn’t say so. The cigarette’s glow carved a red line in the early-morning breeze, and I recalled the red line extending from the hole in Geoff’s chest down to his navel—his body as cold as his stepdaughter’s feelings for him.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, raising the window. “I’m just rambling.”
    “I understand.”
    She turned her head toward me. “There was a time when I thought mother would marry you.”
    “And would that have pleased you?” My heart gave a tiny leap in anticipation of her answer. Archy the fool.
    “I liked you and you made me laugh a lot. But the way you dressed! I was afraid of what the girls at school would say if they saw you in one of your silk berets. I think I was going to try to palm you off as an artist.”
    “Con artist, no doubt.”
    “Well, you must admit your style is not exactly conventional.”
    “I’m an individual.”
    “You’re cute, Archy.”
    Finally, a statement we both agreed upon.
    After this brief respite from our more weighty conversation, she lapsed into silence once again, and I did nothing to discourage it until we neared home. Then, quite casually, I asked, “Did you turn on the alarm at the front gate when you went out this evening?”
    She was either nodding out or in a trance. “Did I do what?”
    “Your mother told me tonight that the first person to leave the house in the evening turned on the security system at the front gate. She said it was a house rule.”
    “It is. And yes, I usually turn it on.”
    “And did you tonight? Or should I say last night?”
    She shook her head. “I honestly don’t remember. Why? Is it important?”
    “It wasn’t on when I arrived at your place.”
    “If I turned it on—and my guess is that I did, out of pure habit—Geoff must have turned it off when he came in.”
    “Why would he do that?”
    “Because we don’t keep it armed during the day. It’s not necessary and a nuisance with all our coming and going.”
    “But no one would turn it off when they came in,” I argued. “That would leave it unarmed for the remainder of the night.”
    “Archy, I have a headache and I don’t understand what this is about. Maybe I didn’t turn it on when I left. I can’t remember. But what does it have to do with my mother...” And here, Veronica Manning finally broke down and cried.
    Hobo came out to greet us, rather reluctantly I thought, and took an immediate shine to Veronica’s ankles. No fool, Hobo. I took her to the guest room on the second floor, which, thanks to Ursi, was always at the ready.
    “It was my sister’s room,” I said, “and when she visits with her family she still occupies it. I’m sure you’ll find something suitably feminine to sleep in. There are fresh towels in the bath and perhaps even a jar of night cream to make you feel right at home.”
    “Thank you, but I’m a soap-and-water girl.” She allowed my jacket to slide off her shoulders with the graceful ease of an exotic dancer. Archy the optimist. “I’m going to look a sight in this dress at breakfast.”
    “A very lovely sight, night or day,” I said. “But I think my sister has left some casual wear about. Mostly things that she’s grown out of, but you didn’t hear that from me. Jeans and sweatshirts abounded, as I recall, and I’m sure you’ll find some that will fit.”
    “Jeans, a sweatshirt, and Manolo Blahnik pumps. How chic.”
    “Hey, I told your mother I’d put you up for the night, not outfit you. But with any luck there should be a pair or two of Dora’s sneakers about.”
    “Dora? Of course, your father’s passion for Dickens. You see, I haven’t forgotten. Where’s Dora now?” Veronica removed her Blahnik pumps as we talked.