JК
The Case of the Caretakers Cat :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 6 из 146"
"What sort of a car?" Mason inquired.
"A Chevvy."
"Your bad leg doesn't keep you from driving?"
"No, not that car. It has a special emergency brake on it. When I pull up on that brake lever the car stops."
Mason flashed an amused glance at Della Street, turned back to the wizened, baldheaded man. "Why wasn't Winifred provided for in the will?" he asked.
"No one knows."
"You were in charge of the house here in the city?"
"That's right."
"What's the address?"
"3824 East Washington."
"You're still there?"
"Yes—and so're Laxter, Oafley, and the servants."
"In other words, when the house burned at Carmencita, they came to live in the city house. Is that right?"
"Yes. They'd have moved in anyway as soon as the master died. They're not the sort who like country life. They want city stuff and lots of it."
"And they object to the cat?"
"Sam Laxter does. He's the executor."
"Specifically, what form has his objection taken?"
"He's told me to get rid of the cat or he'll poison it."
"Has he given any reason?"
"He doesn't like cats. He doesn't like Clinker especially. I sleep in the basement. I keep the basement window open. Clinker jumps in and jumps out—you know how a cat is—you can't keep him shut up all the time. With my leg the way it is, I don't walk around much. Clinker has to get out some. When it's raining, he gets his feet dirty. Then he jumps in through the window, and gets my bed muddy."
"The window is over your bed?" Mason inquired.
"That's right, and the cat sleeps on my bed. It has for years. It hasn't bothered anyone. Sam Laxter says it runs up the laundry bill, getting the bedspreads all mussed up… Laundry bills! He throws away enough in one night at a night club to pay my laundry bills for ten years!"
"Rather a free spender?" Mason asked goodnaturedly.
"He was—he isn't so much now."
"No?" Mason inquired.
"No, he can't get the money."
"What money?"
"The money the master left."
"I thought you said he left it share and share alike to the two grandchildren."
"He did—what they've been able to find."
"They haven't been able to find it all?" Mason asked, interested.
"A bit before the fire," Ashton said, as though the recital gave him great satisfaction, "the master made a complete cleanup. He cashed in something over a million dollars. No one knows what he did with that money.
"What sort of a car?" Mason inquired.
"A Chevvy."
"Your bad leg doesn't keep you from driving?"
"No, not that car. It has a special emergency brake on it. When I pull up on that brake lever the car stops."
Mason flashed an amused glance at Della Street, turned back to the wizened, baldheaded man. "Why wasn't Winifred provided for in the will?" he asked.
"No one knows."
"You were in charge of the house here in the city?"
"That's right."
"What's the address?"
"3824 East Washington."
"You're still there?"
"Yes—and so're Laxter, Oafley, and the servants."
"In other words, when the house burned at Carmencita, they came to live in the city house. Is that right?"
"Yes. They'd have moved in anyway as soon as the master died. They're not the sort who like country life. They want city stuff and lots of it."
"And they object to the cat?"
"Sam Laxter does. He's the executor."
"Specifically, what form has his objection taken?"
"He's told me to get rid of the cat or he'll poison it."
"Has he given any reason?"
"He doesn't like cats. He doesn't like Clinker especially. I sleep in the basement. I keep the basement window open. Clinker jumps in and jumps out—you know how a cat is—you can't keep him shut up all the time. With my leg the way it is, I don't walk around much. Clinker has to get out some. When it's raining, he gets his feet dirty. Then he jumps in through the window, and gets my bed muddy."
"The window is over your bed?" Mason inquired.
"That's right, and the cat sleeps on my bed. It has for years. It hasn't bothered anyone. Sam Laxter says it runs up the laundry bill, getting the bedspreads all mussed up… Laundry bills! He throws away enough in one night at a night club to pay my laundry bills for ten years!"
"Rather a free spender?" Mason asked goodnaturedly.
"He was—he isn't so much now."
"No?" Mason inquired.
"No, he can't get the money."
"What money?"
"The money the master left."
"I thought you said he left it share and share alike to the two grandchildren."
"He did—what they've been able to find."
"They haven't been able to find it all?" Mason asked, interested.
"A bit before the fire," Ashton said, as though the recital gave him great satisfaction, "the master made a complete cleanup. He cashed in something over a million dollars. No one knows what he did with that money.