evening, when I was here?â
âI canât imagine.â
âPlease try.â
âDoubtlessââshe smiled faintlyââyou got the impression that my husband thought I had been Jeffreyâs mistress.â
âWell?â
âAre youââher dimples showed; she seemed amusedââasking me if I really was his mistress?â
âNoâthough of course Iâd like to know.â
âNaturally you would,â she said pleasantly.
âWhat impression did you get that evening?â I asked.
âI?â She wrinkled her forehead. âOh, that my husband had hired you to prove that I had been Jeffreyâs mistress.â She repeated the word mistress as if she liked the shape of it in her mouth.
âYou were wrong.â
âKnowing my husband, I find that hard to believe.â
âKnowing myself, Iâm sure of it,â I insisted. âThereâs no uncertainty about it between your husband and me, Mrs. Gungen. It is understood that my job is to find who stole and killedânothing else.â
âReally?â It was a polite ending of an argument of which she had grown tired.
âYouâre tying my hands,â I complained, standing up, pretending I wasnât watching her carefully. âI canât do anything now but grab this Rose Rubury and the two men and see what I can squeeze out of them. You said the girl would be back in half an hour?â
She looked at me steadily with her round brown eyes.
âShe should be back in a few minutes. Youâre going to question her?â
âBut not here,â I informed her. âIâll take her down to the Hall of Justice and have the men picked up. Can I use your phone?â
âCertainly. Itâs in the next room.â She crossed to open the door for me.
I called Davenport 20 and asked for the detective bureau.
Mrs. Gungen, standing in the sitting room, said, so softly I could barely hear it:
âWait.â
Holding the phone, I turned to look through the door at her. She was pinching her red mouth between thumb and finger, frowning. I didnât put down the phone until she took the hand from her mouth and held it out toward me. Then I went back into the sitting-room.
I was on top. I kept my mouth shut. It was up to her to make the plunge. She studied my face for a minute or more before she began:
âI wonât pretend I trust you.â She spoke hesitantly, half as if to herself. âYouâre working for my husband, and even the money would not interest him so much as whatever I had done. Itâs a choice of evilsâcertain on the one hand, more than probable on the other.â
She stopped talking and rubbed her hands together. Her round eyes were becoming indecisive. If she wasnât helped along she was going to balk.
âThereâs only the two of us,â I urged her. âYou can deny everything afterward. Itâs my word against yours. If you donât tell meâI know now I can get it from the others. Your calling me from the phone lets me know that. You think Iâll tell your husband everything. Well, if I have to fry it out of the others, heâll probably read it all in the papers. Your one chance is to trust me. Itâs not as slim a chance as you think. Anyway, itâs up to you.â
A half-minute of silence.
âSuppose,â she whispered, âI should pay you toââ
âWhat for? If Iâm going to tell your husband, I could take your money and still tell him, couldnât I?â
Her red mouth curved, her dimples appeared and her eyes brightened.
âThat is reassuring,â she said. âI shall tell you. Jeffrey came back from Los Angeles early so we could have the day together in a little apartment we kept. In the afternoon two men came inâwith a key. They had revolvers. They robbed Jeffrey of the money. That was what they had come for. They seemed
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]