Working Murder by Eleanor Boylan Read Free Book Online

swimsuits for herself and the other girl. They never saw her again.”
    I lay there trying to take this in. “She never went into her house for the swimsuits?”
    â€œWasn't seen if she did.”
    â€œAnd she never showed up at Irene and Tully's?”
    Henry shook his head. “They waited up till all hours. By the way, Tully's downstairs.
     He's going with us tonight.”
    â€œWho was the other girl?”
    â€œHer name was Susan Lozier. She married an Englishman and died last year.”
    â€œAnd the other boy?”
    â€œYou may meet him tonight.” Henry stood up. “Peter Angier, an old friend of Sadd's. He
     married one of the Cavanaugh girls and she died and he's remarried—I don't know who to.
     A fine rest you're having. Stay put. We'll eat about six. Just pizza.”
    He kissed me and went out. I stared at the door for a minute, then went determinedly back
     to my count.
    Checkers ... Chess ... Tiddly Winks ... Cribbage —
    The door, which had remained ajar, was pushed open, and Tina appeared with a steaming
     mug.
    â€œHenry said you were awake. This is Ovaltine—don't laugh—my mother still drinks it.”
    â€œWho's laughing?” I accepted the mug and turned on my side. “So Tully's here.”
    â€œYes. Sadd's got him in front of the fire. Rather a forlorn creature, isn't he? I'd never
     met him.”
    Tina went to the window to watch for Hen's van, and I sipped my Ovaltine while trying to
     recall Tully Hewitt's face ... long, pleasant, horsey, not handsome. He was younger than
     his wife, Irene, I remembered, and still lived in the house that had figured in the
     tragedy, Sadd had said—at which instant, that reprobate appeared in the door.
    â€œGo away, I'm not speaking to you,” I said and held my empty mug out to Tina. “Thank you,
     dear.”
    â€œHere's the van.” Tina waved to someone in the street and went out.
    Sadd said: “Clara, you're being childish.”
    â€œSo leave. You're not overly fond of children.”
    â€œNow, listen to me.” He planted his feet in the aggravated troll stance. “When I got a
     letter from May ten days ago, how was I to know she was going to die? She asked me not
     to say anything to you yet. She assumed you'd gone to Florida to ‘rest and forget this
     sort of thing,’ which you had and which I thought rather sensitive of May to consider. I
     immediately wrote back begging her not to do this—the very thought appalled me—and how
     could I know she'd already engaged Henry, gotten the ball rolling, and left herself open
     to that letter? I've just explained this to Henry and Tina, and they admitted they
     themselves were hesitant to involve you. So everyone who cares about you was trying to
     spare you, and you should be grateful.”
    Grudgingly, I said I supposed I was. Then I said: “How's Tully taking this?”
    â€œBadly. You won't know him. He's not much older than I am and he looks a hundred. I have
     the impression he's been boozing for years and shocks like this don't help.”
    â€œDid he know of May's plan to reopen the case?”
    â€œNot till yesterday. He was in Rye all day visiting friends, and when he called May to
     say he'd be back in time to take her to dinner, Henry answered the phone and had to tell
     him why he was there and about the letter, et cetera. Tully took the first train he
     could back to Grand Central.” Sadd peered at the bookshelf over my head.
    â€œAnything decent to read here?”
    I tried to make my voice casual. “Did Henry and Tina wait at May's till Tully arrived?”
    â€œNo, as a matter of fact—” Sadd stopped, eyeing me. “You're not going to start that
     again.”
    â€œI asked you a question.”
    He heaved a sigh. “No, May urged them to leave. She said she felt better, and since she
     knew Tully would be back soon, which he was, there was no reason for