The Paw in the Bottle
- Автор: Чейз Джеймс Хэдли
- Год: 1949
- Язык: английский
- Год: Jarrolds
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Paw in the Bottle». Краткое содержание книги:
Blanche’s smiled vanished.
‘Then why did you let him up?’ she demanded, a rasp in her voice. ‘Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on that girl? Didn’t I leave implicit instructions she was not to have a man in the flat? Surely you know by now that these chits of girls are no better than street walkers? Do you think I want my flat turned into a brothel in my absence?’
The head porter saw too late where his runaway tongue had led him.
‘He called at nine o’clock yesterday morning, madam,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘He didn’t stay more than a few minutes. If he had been longer I would have had him down. I assure you there was no time for any nonsense of that sort.’
Blanche gave him a steady stare.
‘You can be immoral at nine o’clock on a Sunday morning as easily as at nine o’clock on Saturday night,’ she said bitingly. ‘From what I hear it seems that these guttersnipes can misconduct themselves in a few minutes without straining their nervous systems, and as for her having a brother I simply don’t believe it. You are a fool, Harris. You have always been a fool and you have every indication of remaining a fool until a grave in some forgotten churchyard claims you.’
‘Yes madam,’ the hall porter said, and bowed humbly. Blanche snapped her fingers at the under-porter who was waiting with her luggage and walked to the lift.
The under-porter gathered up the luggage, winked at the head porter who glared at him, and followed Blanche into the lift.
Sweeping into her flat like a miniature tornado, Blanche managed to reach the bell in the lounge and ring it furiously before Julie was aware that she was in the flat.
Blanche looked searchingly at Julie as she came hurrying in. Julie was pale and there were dark rings under her eyes. This was not to be wondered at since she had scarcely slept the previous night.
‘Get me some brandy,’ Blanche ordered, ‘and hurry. You look thoroughly washed out.’
Julie didn’t say anything. She had been dreading this moment. She fetched a decanter and glass and set them on the table, then picked up Blanche’s suitcase and backed to the door.
‘Don’t go away,’ Blanche said sharply. ‘I want to talk to you. Come here, where I can see you.’ She poured out the brandy, drank half a tumbler of the liquor neat, refilled her glass and lit a cigarette. ‘What have you been doing with yourself over the week-end?’
‘Oh, nothing really, madam,’ Julie said, avoiding Blanche’s searching eyes, ‘I... I tidied up. There was a little sewing...’
Blanche snapped her fingers impatiently.
‘Never mind that,’ she said. ‘Did anyone call?’
‘Oh, no, madam.’
Blanche stared at her.
‘You mean to tell me no one except yourself has been in the flat over the week-end?’
Julie hesitated, then said, ‘Yes, madam, that’s right.’
‘How very odd,’ Blanche said. ‘The hall porter tells me your brother called on you yesterday.’
‘My... my brother?’ Julie stammered, realized a little late that Theo probably had difficulty in getting past the head porter and, as an excuse to get upstairs, had made out he was her brother. ‘Oh, yes, madam. I... I forget. My brother did come to see me. He didn’t stay long. I didn’t let him into the fiat. I hope you don’t mind.’
Blanche sipped her brandy. She felt that if she wasn’t careful the row she was longing to stage might not materialize.
‘I think you are lying,’ she said sharply. ‘I don’t believe you have a brother, and I don’t believe for one moment you didn’t ask this man into my flat.’
‘I assure you, madam,’ Julie said, fear giving her courage, ‘he didn’t come into the flat. He... he’s got a job on a ship and only came to say good-bye.’
Blanche glowered at her.
‘I see,’ she said.
‘There’s no point in pursuing that,’ she thought. ‘The little slut’s slippery, but I’ve not finished with her yet.’
‘So, apart from your brother, no one else has been here?’ she went on, lifting her eyebrows.
‘Had the hall porter told her that Wesley had been back?’ Julie wondered. ‘Had he been off duty?’ Wesley had asked her to say nothing. She stood hesitating, not knowing what to say.
‘Well, speak up!’ Blanche snapped.
Julie decided to risk it.
‘No one else, madam.’
Blanche smiled.
‘Not even, Mr. Wesley, Julie?’ she asked gently.
‘She knows,’ Julie thought. ‘Now, what am I to do?’
But Blanche gave her no opportunity to make excuses. She flared up into a furious rage.
‘So that’s it, is it?’ she stormed, starting out of her chair. ‘Of course, a blind man can’t be too particular. They say all cats are grey in the dark, but I’m surprised he picked on a skivvy!’
Julie felt herself go hot and then cold. But she knew there was nothing she dare do. She had to stay in this flat now until Mrs. French told her she could leave.
‘You’re making a mistake...’ she began.
‘Mistake?’ Blanche’s voice rose to a scream. ‘How dare you lie to me!’ She snatched up her glass of brandy and threw it at Julie. The glass whizzed past Julie’s head, smashed against the wall; some of the splinters narrowly missed her. ‘Get out of my sight, you dirty little slut!’
Julie made a bolt for the door as Blanche looked around for something else to throw at her. She neatly collided with Wesley as he came in.
‘What’s going on here?’ he demanded. ‘Blanche! What’s happening?’
‘I’ll tell you what’s happening!’ Blanche stormed. ‘I was just telling your cheap little mistress what I thought of her!’
Julie ran from the room. But she didn’t go far. As soon as she was out of sight, she paused to listen.
‘You’d better control yourself, Blanche,’ Wesley said quietly. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘I suppose you’ll deny you stayed the night here with that chit?’
‘I stayed here on Saturday night,’ Wesley returned. ‘Does that annoy you?’
‘Then why did she say you weren’t here if you two haven’t been up to something?’
‘Because I told her to. Knowing your grubby little mind I foolishly thought it would save a scene. But I was wrong. Now are you satisfied?’
‘You cheap cad!’ Blanche said furiously, and there came the sound of a blow. There was a sudden crash of breaking glass and a thud as some piece of furniture fell over.
Horrified, Julie peered into the room.
Wesley was standing motionless, his hand to his face. Blanche, livid with fury, faced him. The occasional table lay on its side surrounded by fragments of glass from a smashed vase.
‘Now I hope you are satisfied,’ Wesley said in a strained voice.
‘I’m not, you useless fool!’ Blanche said, and struck him on the other side of his face with her open hand.
Julie caught her breath sharply, but neither of them heard her.
Wesley stepped back.
‘That’s enough, Blanche. You’re drunk. Go and lie down and sleep it off. You disgust me.’
‘Oh! I hate you!’ Blanche screamed at him. She looked wildly round the room, darted to the fireplace and snatched up the poker. There was a murderous expression in her eyes that chilled Julie. As Blanche rushed towards Wesley, brandishing the poker, Julie cried out, ‘Mind! She’s got a poker!’
But Wesley made no move to avoid Blanche, and Julie darted forward, seized Blanche’s wrist as she reached Wesley.
‘Don’t you dare touch him! How could you, when he’s blind?’ she cried.
Blanche wrenched her wrist free, gaped at Julie; her rage dying on her. Then, suddenly, she began to laugh. She turned away, dropping into an arm-chair and shook with gleeful mirth.