Wife or Death by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page A

a moment, Denton phoned the men on his list. By quitting time he had managed to reach every one.
    Not a man of the remaining twelve who had attended the Wyatts’ party was absent from town.
    Starting the work day so early in the morning had one compensation: the Clarion office closed at 3 P.M. Denton walked over to the north side of the square to the Guest Hardware Store. George Guest, just finishing with a customer, signaled Denton to stand by. When the customer left, Guest nodded to his clerk and the two friends went over to Jordan’s.
    Coffee at Jordan’s Pik-U-Up was almost a daily ritual with Denton and Guest. As they dropped into their favorite booth a waitress automatically brought them two cups of coffee, Denton’s black, Guest’s with cream.
    â€œMud in your eye,” Guest said. He took a sip and made a face. “And I mean mud! What kind of sludge are they using in that urn today?”
    â€œMine tastes all right,” said Denton. “You must still be getting repercussions from that skinful you imbibed Saturday night.”
    â€œI guess. Well, Jim, so you have to bach it, huh? Lucky dog.”
    Denton glanced at him sharply. But then he relaxed. There was no reason for old George to doubt the yarn about Angel’s visiting her family. George was the only man Denton knew who was as guileless as he looked.
    â€œI don’t know yet, George. I don’t start climbing into an unmade bed till tonight. I wish Angel’d arranged for somebody to come in while she’s away.”
    â€œYou want somebody?”
    â€œI’d better get one, I suppose, or the place’ll start to smell. Think Corinne could recommend a cleaning woman?”
    â€œMy wife?” George exclaimed. “She’s a walking directory. Your troubles are over, pal. I’ll have Corinne call you this evening.”
    Corinne Guest was as good as her husband’s word. She phoned to say that she had Bridget White all lined up if he wanted her.
    â€œBridget can come in mornings for two hours,” Corinne said. “She works for Clara Sommers and Clara says she’s marvelous. Just takes over and does without supervision.”
    â€œThat’s the type character I need,” Denton said. “How early will she come?”
    â€œShe can give you eight to ten—she’s due somewhere else at ten-thirty. But she’ll come earlier if you prefer, Jim.”
    â€œHow about seven? I wouldn’t be here to let her in much later. I leave for the shop at seven-fifteen.”
    â€œShe’ll be there at seven tomorrow morning.”
    â€œCorinne—”
    â€œI know, I’m a doll. ’Bye!” And Corinne laughed and hung up.
    He had just finished his breakfast the next morning when Bridget White arrived. The cleaning woman was squat and fiftyish, with the shoulders of a cow. He settled her wages and showed her about the house. She kept grunting in disapproval, and Denton grinned to himself. Angel had not been exactly the ideal housekeeper.
    â€œI better do everything,” Bridget said at last, as if she had reached an irrevocable decision.
    â€œYou do that,” Denton said meekly. “Whatever you think has to be done. Anything you need in the way of supplies, buy it.” He handed her a five-dollar bill.
    She took off her coat, removed her hat, hung both in the foyer closet, donned a spotless apron, marched into the living room and went purposefully over to the sofa. From the way she lifted and moved it, it might have been a light chair. She stared coldly at the accumulation of dust and lint, then set it down.
    â€œYump,” she said. “I better do everything . Well, Mr. Denton? Don’t you go to work?”
    Denton fled.

7
    Denton and young Winchester were seated opposite each other at the long galley table, reading proof, when the reporter suddenly said, “Say, I heard your wife’s out of town.”
    Denton slowly looked up.