The Four Johns by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online

Boce could change his mind. But Boce said, “Hold on. I’d better see if Harriet wants to go.”
    Harriet, face flushed, hair in wisps, was in the process of pouring herself another glass of wine.
    â€œShe’s settling in,” said Mervyn, edging toward the door.
    â€œYeah. Maybe so. But on the other hand—”
    â€œOn what other hand?” asked Mervyn in irritation.
    â€œI need a set of wheels tomorrow. For maybe half an hour. I’ll take the convert, if you’re not using it?”
    â€œYes, yes, anything. Put some gas in it. Last time you used it I had to coast to the service station.”
    â€œRight.” The accountant was once more all jolly good humor. “Good night, old man, happy dreams, drive carefully.”
    Mervyn departed, his relief at being able to leave Boce and Harriet Brill soured by the knowledge that once more the fat man had outwitted him. Monday, for sure, he’d sell the car.
    Susie was not waiting in the Volkswagen. Mervyn was not surprised. He backed around, started down the hill.
    A hundred yards down, his headlights picked up Susie’s slender figure. She was marching along with the determination of an Amazon. Mervyn stopped the car and opened the door. Susie climbed in.
    Mervyn said in a mild voice, “I suppose it’s useless to inquire into the reason for your peculiar behavior?”
    Susie answered in an even milder voice, “I’m in the process of learning things about myself. The way I act under peculiar conditions. Peculiar conditions seem to call forth peculiar behavior.”
    Mervyn puzzled over the remark. It seemed almost a covert challenge, as if Susie was daring him to ask for an explanation.
    The silence became oppressive, so Mervyn asked. “What are you going to do this summer?”
    â€œI’m not going to Tahoe.” Susie and Mary had half-seriously considered taking summer jobs at one of the Lake Tahoe resorts. “I’ll probably sign up for summer session.”
    She looked at him for the first time since she had got in the car. Mervyn could not read her expression in the dark—but, for that matter, he seldom could do so in the full light of day. “What about you?”
    â€œI’ve still got my thesis,” Mervyn answered. “I suppose I’ll concentrate on that.”
    â€œNo classes?”
    â€œNone till fall.”
    They reached the bottom of the hill and Mervyn slowed down. He drove south along Perdue Street to the Yerba Buena Garden Apartments. Susie jumped out, thanked him briefly, ran up the stairs to the balcony, and along the deck to Apartment 12. Mervyn proceeded to his own apartment. As he opened his door he glanced back and saw Susie in the process of opening her door, looking down over her shoulder at him. Then the door closed behind her.
    The next morning Mervyn was awakened by a rattling of the doorknob and vigorous pounding. Groaning, he looked at his clock: ten minutes to ten. He swung his legs out of bed and shuffled to the door.
    The noisemaker was John Boce, dressed in suntans and glossy white windbreaker. He had on a long-billed blue baseball cap and dark glasses. Before Mervyn could speak, he raised a monitory hand. “I regret the intrusion, Mervyn. I come about the Chevrolet. You have practically convinced me that it’s a sound investment.”
    â€œTake it,” growled Mervyn. “Take it and go away.”
    â€œExactly,” said Boce. “Where is it?”
    â€œWhere is it? Where it always is—out in the back garage.”
    â€œI’m afraid not.”
    Mervyn stared. “What are you talking about? It’s got to be there.”
    â€œWell, it isn’t. Go look for yourself.”
    Mervyn donned slippers and bathrobe and went with the accountant through the gate at the rear of the court. The long shed that served as garage for the apartments was open. Three cars were housed here, none of them the mint-green