The Old Contemptibles by Martha Grimes Read Free Book Online

Ledbetter on the phone for me. Ring him tomorrow. Early.”
    “Yes, my lord.”
    Melrose sipped his drink, said ummmm and went back to the cow’s hooves. He studied the cow and started to draw in a nice shade tree.
    “Why are you—or Simon Ledbetter—writing up codicils?” A sort of breathlessness accompanied this question as if she might strangle over the answer.
    Melrose had drooped the branch over a stone wall. Before he could answer, Ruthven came back into the living room to tell him the superintendent was on the line.
    “Jury?” Oh, my God! Here he’d been drawing a cow when he should have been thinking up a story.
     • • • 
    Melrose’s tone, naturally, was injured. “I’ve been trying for two days to get hold of you. I had two or three interesting conversations with Miss Palutski, who wondered when I was coming to visit, told me about her job and asked me what sign I was born under. The Jack and Hammer, I told her. I thought you’d be eager to hear about Vivian.” He chewed his lip and hoped Jury wasn’t.
    “Of course I am. I’ve just been hard to reach. Is her wedding date stable yet? And did you see the count?”
    “The Fanged One? No, but we did have a nice, long talk with Vivian—”
    Jury broke in, “Listen. There’s a rumor going round I’m more or less engaged.”
    Melrose was silent.
    Trueblood had grassed.
    Still, Jury seemed to be taking the little trick amazingly well, for he sounded quite cheerful. Said Melrose, “I can explain about that. The children were, I admit, an exaggeration—”
    “What children? There’s only one.”
    Melrose didn’t know what to say. He scratched his ear. Ah, of course, Jury was being sarcastic.
    “Well! That’s marvelous! What’s ‘more-or-less’?” Melrose grinned at the receiver.
    “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you and Trueblood can argue over it.”
    Melrose sniggered. “Be glad to help out. And what is your intended like?”
    “Pretty, smart, wonderful sense of humor, about all any man would want. Though she’s a bit changeable in her moods.”
    Where had he got this description? Trueblood had forgotten the original story. “She, ah, sounds quite wonderful.”
    “She is. I can’t say I’m not anxious—to the point of blind panic—about meeting her son. He’s sixteen and he’s been the man around the house for some years. He’ll hate me.”
    “Impossible.” Melrose frowned. He couldn’t make all of this “going along with a joke” out. He said, “Could you hang on just a second?” He put the receiver against his chest and stared in the direction of the sunburst of medieval swords on the wall without really seeing them. He shook his head back and forth like a bird dog with water in its ears. No, no, no. “Ah, where did you meet her?”
    “Islington. Camden Passage, to be exact.”
    Would Jury stop sounding so damnably cheery? It didn’t suit him.
    “You’ll like her. And her son. He’s sixteen. Or did I already say that?”
    Good Lord, when had Melrose ever liked anyone sixteen? But that was hardly the point: this was no joke. Jury wasn’t kidding. Melrose looked again at the swords and thought of falling on one. By some damnable coincidence, Jury really had met a woman. Well, the worldwas full of them, wasn’t it? And most of them, from what Melrose had seen, were after Richard Jury.
    How many more wedding bells would be breaking up that old gang of his? Next thing, Marshall Trueblood would marry that Karla person.
    And Jury would bring his lady to Long Pidd and now they’d have a perfect stranger hanging about the Jack and Hammer. . . . This couldn’t be true! It was too much of a coincidence. Melrose laughed. “You’re not serious.”
    “Look, I know this is sudden—”
    “Well, don’t propose to me. Trueblood might have you, but I’m—involved.” That should fix him.
    “What’s the matter with you?” Jury laughed.
    “Nothing. Trueblood’s obviously been on about what we said to Vivian and