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The Gate House :: Demille Nelson
Страница: 466 из 490”
“Are you alone?”
“I am until eight P.M., then a second man comes on duty.”
“All right… well, what I need you to do, in about fifteen or twenty minutes, is to drive up to the guest cottage and just walk around to see that everything looks okay.”
“Well… I’m not supposed to leave my post.”
“That is part of your post tonight.” I gave him a twenty-dollar bill and said, “Mrs. Sutter is in the house, and we are expecting no visitors, so do not let anyone in, unless you call us and get an okay. I will be back in about half an hour.” Actually, it could be closer to an hour, but he didn’t need to know that.
He seemed happy with his tip and replied, “No problem,” whatever that means.
I got back in the car and headed toward Locust Valley.
Aside from Susan’s shopping list in my pocket, I had Ethel’s letter, which I needed to photocopy. In fact, I’d make twenty copies, and send one to William every month, plus Father’s Day, Christmas, and his birthday.
As I got to the edge of the village, I called Susan, and she answered. I said, “Traffic is heavy, and parking will be tight, so I’m not sure how long this will take.”
“Take your time.”
“Do you need onions?”
“No onions, sweetie.”
“Okay.” I told her, “I asked the guard at the gate to check out the house in about fifteen minutes.” I reminded her, “The carbine is in the umbrella stand in case you need to go downstairs. Leave the shotgun in the bedroom. I’ll call you later.”
The village was crowded with cars jockeying for parking spaces. I glanced at the dashboard clock: 5:39. Well, with any luck, I could be back within the hour.
What could happen in one hour?
CHAPTER SEVENTY
I bought everything on the list for our trip, and I also made a dozen copies of Ethel’s letter at a local print shop in case William needed monthly reminders of why we were negotiating a family financial agreement. I began the fifteen-minute drive back to Stanhope Hall. It was now 6:23 on the dashboard clock.
I used Susan’s cell phone to call the house, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message. “I’ll be home in ten or fifteen minutes. Call me when you get this.”
She was probably in the shower, or despite my advice to stay inside, maybe she was on the patio without her portable house phone. Another very likely possibility was that she was in the basement, looking for clothes to pack, and there was no phone down there.
“Are you alone?”
“I am until eight P.M., then a second man comes on duty.”
“All right… well, what I need you to do, in about fifteen or twenty minutes, is to drive up to the guest cottage and just walk around to see that everything looks okay.”
“Well… I’m not supposed to leave my post.”
“That is part of your post tonight.” I gave him a twenty-dollar bill and said, “Mrs. Sutter is in the house, and we are expecting no visitors, so do not let anyone in, unless you call us and get an okay. I will be back in about half an hour.” Actually, it could be closer to an hour, but he didn’t need to know that.
He seemed happy with his tip and replied, “No problem,” whatever that means.
I got back in the car and headed toward Locust Valley.
Aside from Susan’s shopping list in my pocket, I had Ethel’s letter, which I needed to photocopy. In fact, I’d make twenty copies, and send one to William every month, plus Father’s Day, Christmas, and his birthday.
As I got to the edge of the village, I called Susan, and she answered. I said, “Traffic is heavy, and parking will be tight, so I’m not sure how long this will take.”
“Take your time.”
“Do you need onions?”
“No onions, sweetie.”
“Okay.” I told her, “I asked the guard at the gate to check out the house in about fifteen minutes.” I reminded her, “The carbine is in the umbrella stand in case you need to go downstairs. Leave the shotgun in the bedroom. I’ll call you later.”
The village was crowded with cars jockeying for parking spaces. I glanced at the dashboard clock: 5:39. Well, with any luck, I could be back within the hour.
What could happen in one hour?
CHAPTER SEVENTY
I bought everything on the list for our trip, and I also made a dozen copies of Ethel’s letter at a local print shop in case William needed monthly reminders of why we were negotiating a family financial agreement. I began the fifteen-minute drive back to Stanhope Hall. It was now 6:23 on the dashboard clock.
I used Susan’s cell phone to call the house, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message. “I’ll be home in ten or fifteen minutes. Call me when you get this.”
She was probably in the shower, or despite my advice to stay inside, maybe she was on the patio without her portable house phone. Another very likely possibility was that she was in the basement, looking for clothes to pack, and there was no phone down there.