Suspicious Circumstances by Patrick Quentin Read Free Book Online Page B

been committing every hour on the hour ever since I became your bride. By the time my lawyers have compiled a list of adulteresses, which will make a stouter volume than the Manhattan Telephone Directory, we will see who’s divorcing whom. And furthermore there is a little thing in the divorce laws known as Community Property. If there is to be any divorcing going around, you will find that this also will figure largely. Half of everything, half of your great fat fortune, half of Ninon de Lenclos, half of that lovely Juan Gris if I have to saw it in half myself, half, in fact, of everything except this delicious Swiss cheese fondue which is all, all yours.’
    She made a swoop at the chafing dish and would have hurled it at Ronnie if poor Pam hadn’t got to it first and clung on for dear life. Although she missed out on hurling the chafing dish, Norma was still glaring at Ronnie.
    ‘But in spite of all this,’ she said, ‘you will be interested to know, my fine-feathered husband, that there is going to be no divorce — no divorce at all; neither is there going to be any change of casting in that sensational motion picture entitled Eternally Female — for the reasons above mentioned, and for the reason about to be mentioned which is as follows. Being your bride may not have been what is considered a bed of roses, but it has certainly been a liberal education in the various and sundry methods of being a crook and a fraud and a tax-evader. Just try to start something, just try, and what I will have to announce will be as music to the ears of the T-Men and the D-Men and whatever other of such type men there may be hanging around. Which about roughly, I would say, settles your hash. And now…’
    While Ronnie turned various shades of green, she swung back to Mother.
    ‘And now,’ she said, ‘we come to the Little Alpine Flower, the Grandmother of all the Sirens, the Ancestress, we might almost call her, of Sex. If, my dearest and oldest Swiss Miss, Ronnie so much as hires you to interpret the role of an ancient sewing woman, let alone Ninon de Lenclos, you will find yourself figuring prominently on the list of adulteresses unless, of course, your lawyers can prove that you’re too old to do it. Not lawyers so much as personal physicians, I would say. And furthermore — you will be pleased to hear that if it is not decided once and for all at this very minute that I am the one to play Ninon de Lenclos, I am prepared to make this the most gala day in the long and respected career of a distinguished columnist friend of mine by the name of Lettie Leroy. At this very minute, I will go to the telephone and, once on it, I shall tell Miss Leroy not only all your mediocre, viperish schemes for stealing my husband and my part, but also a great many other things dating from a dim and distant past which would be enough to make that illustrious contemporary of yours, Queen Marie Antoinette of France, turn in her grave, head or no head. Right at this very minute, as you hear the signal, I will bend Miss Leroy’s ear so far back that she will be able to wear it as a hat.’
    And then, while they all stood thunderstruck, even Mother, Norma glared at Ronnie again.
    ‘Okay, Buster, who gets to play Ninon now?’
    Pam could see rage and panic warring in Ronnie. Then rage won.
    ‘Anny,’ he screamed. ‘Anny plays the part. Anny.’
    ‘She does?’ said Norma.
    ‘She does.’
    ‘very well,’ said Norma. ‘You have dug your grave — you can lie in it. Miss Leroy — here I come.’
    And with an agility which seemed improbable under the circumstances, she had swept away and was lumbering back to the house.
    It had turned into a Witches’ Sabbath. Pam was, of course, horrified, but at least she remembered that it was supposed to be her function to be executive and stave off disaster.
    She said to Ronnie, ‘Does she mean it?’
    He was the color of cigarette ash by then. ‘Of course she means it. Give her enough gin and she heads