JК
The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 44 из 149”
“Well,” shesaid, “there’s Digley, the butler.”
“Yes,” said Mason, “I met him. I know all about him. Who else? Who is the housekeeper?”
“A Mrs. Veitch,” she said, “and she has her daughter staying with her now. The daughter is there for a few days.”
“All right, how about the men? Let’s check up on the men. Just Digley, the butler?”
“No,” she said, “there’s Carl Griffin.”
“Griffin, eh?”
She flushed. “Yes.”
“That accounts for the fact that you used the name ‘Griffin’ when you came to call on me the first time?”
“No, it doesn’t. I just used the first name that came into my mind. Don’t say anything like that.”
He grinned. “I didn’t say anything like that. You’re the one that said it.”
She rushed into rapid conversation.
“Carl Griffin is my husband’s nephew. He’s very seldom home at night. He’s pretty wild, I guess. He leads a pretty gay life. They say he comes in drunk a good deal of the time. I don’t know about that. But I know that he’s very close to my husband. George comes as near having affection for Carl as he does for any living mortal. You must know that my husband is a queer man. He doesn’t really love any one. He wants to own and possess, to dominate and crush, but he can’t love. He hasn’t any close friends and he’s completely selfsufficient.”
“Yes,” said Mason, “I know all that stuff. It isn’t your husband’s character that I’m interested in. Tell me some more about this Carl Griffin. Was he there tonight?”
“No,” she said, “he went out early in the evening. In fact, I don’t think he was there for dinner. It seems to me that he went out to the golf club and played golf this afternoon. When did it start to rain?”
“Around six o’clock, I think,” said Mason. “Why?”
“Yes,” she said, “that’s the way I remember it. It was pleasant this afternoon, and Carl was playing golf. Then I think George said that he had telephoned he was going to stay out at the golf club for dinner and wouldn’t be in until late.”
“You’re sure he hadn’t come in?” asked Mason.
“Certain.”
“You’re sure that it wasn’t his voice that you heard up there in the room?”
She hesitated for a moment.
“No,” she said, “it was yours.”
Mason muttered an exclamation of annoyance.
“That is,” she said hastily, “it sounded like yours. It was a man who talked just like you.
“Well,” shesaid, “there’s Digley, the butler.”
“Yes,” said Mason, “I met him. I know all about him. Who else? Who is the housekeeper?”
“A Mrs. Veitch,” she said, “and she has her daughter staying with her now. The daughter is there for a few days.”
“All right, how about the men? Let’s check up on the men. Just Digley, the butler?”
“No,” she said, “there’s Carl Griffin.”
“Griffin, eh?”
She flushed. “Yes.”
“That accounts for the fact that you used the name ‘Griffin’ when you came to call on me the first time?”
“No, it doesn’t. I just used the first name that came into my mind. Don’t say anything like that.”
He grinned. “I didn’t say anything like that. You’re the one that said it.”
She rushed into rapid conversation.
“Carl Griffin is my husband’s nephew. He’s very seldom home at night. He’s pretty wild, I guess. He leads a pretty gay life. They say he comes in drunk a good deal of the time. I don’t know about that. But I know that he’s very close to my husband. George comes as near having affection for Carl as he does for any living mortal. You must know that my husband is a queer man. He doesn’t really love any one. He wants to own and possess, to dominate and crush, but he can’t love. He hasn’t any close friends and he’s completely selfsufficient.”
“Yes,” said Mason, “I know all that stuff. It isn’t your husband’s character that I’m interested in. Tell me some more about this Carl Griffin. Was he there tonight?”
“No,” she said, “he went out early in the evening. In fact, I don’t think he was there for dinner. It seems to me that he went out to the golf club and played golf this afternoon. When did it start to rain?”
“Around six o’clock, I think,” said Mason. “Why?”
“Yes,” she said, “that’s the way I remember it. It was pleasant this afternoon, and Carl was playing golf. Then I think George said that he had telephoned he was going to stay out at the golf club for dinner and wouldn’t be in until late.”
“You’re sure he hadn’t come in?” asked Mason.
“Certain.”
“You’re sure that it wasn’t his voice that you heard up there in the room?”
She hesitated for a moment.
“No,” she said, “it was yours.”
Mason muttered an exclamation of annoyance.
“That is,” she said hastily, “it sounded like yours. It was a man who talked just like you.