The Second Richard Deming Mystery MEGAPACK™: 23 Classic Mystery Stories
- Автор: Деминг Ричард
- Год: 2016
- Язык: английский
- Год: Wildside Press
- ISBN: 9781479423507
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Second Richard Deming Mystery MEGAPACK™: 23 Classic Mystery Stories». Краткое содержание книги:
“It’s considerably better than going to jail,” he said with a smile.
I rose and held out my hand, palm up. “Now if I may have my first five-thousand-dollar fee, I’ll be on my way. I’ll be in correspondence with you.”
Parks got the cash from the bedroom, and we parted cordially a few minutes later, me with five thousand dollars in my pocket and considerably richer future prospects.
The Jolly Jugglers, Retired
Originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, March 1967.
They could hear the car coming long before its headlights would appear around the curve circling Indian Butte, because the clear desert air carried sound a remarkable distance. By the sound, it was traveling along the narrow gravel road at an unsafe speed.
“Must be city folk,” old Ed Jolly said to his wife. “Be here in ten minutes at the speed they’re going, if they don’t hit one of them potholes in the road. If they do, might not get here at all.”
His head cocked for listening, he preoccupiedly lifted four apples from a box lying on the counter on the grocery side of the combination General Store, snack bar, and tavern, and began expertly juggling them. He was still lean and erect despite his 75 years, and his hands were almost as supple as they had been 30 years ago.
Mary Jolly, only a few months younger than her husband, was also in excellent health for her age. Her body had thinned out and lost its once lissome figure, but there was still a twinkle in her eye and the vestiges of a spring in her step.
Standing several feet away, she eyed the arcing apples as they circled in the air from one hand to the other. Suddenly she raised her left hand and chanted, “A-one and a-two and away and go!”
Grinning, Ed continued to toss and catch the apples until the last word of the incantation; then they suddenly sped toward his wife in such a rapid stream that two were in the air all the time. Expertly plucking each apple from the air as it reached her and tossing it upward, she started juggling them. When Ed raised his hand, they streamed back to him. He juggled them twice, then caught them and dropped them back into the box.
“We could still wow them if there was any vaudeville left,” he said. “I better get outside.”
By its sound he judged the car was now just beyond Indian Butte when he switched on the gas pumps. He knew it would stop, because cars coming from the east always did. Except for ranch houses, the Jollys’ filling station and General Store was the only sign of civilization for the 125 miles from Ripple City in that direction, and for the 65 miles to the nearest town west.
Headlights appeared from around the curve circling the butte just east of the store. The car slowed and swung into the filling station. It was a new but dust-laden four-door sedan with four men in it.
Bringing the car to a stop before the gas pump, the driver said, “Fill ’er up, Pop.”
The four men got out to stretch. They were all somewhere between 30 and 40 and all were dressed in darkly conservative business suits.
As Ed inserted the hose nozzle into the tank vent, the driver, a lean thin-faced man with a large nose, said, “How far’s Hooker’s Gap, Pop?”
“Sixty-five miles.”
The driver glanced at a wrist watch, then turned to a stocky man with heavy features and thick flat lips who had climbed from the back seat. “It’s not quite ten yet, Mark. We’ll be in well before midnight.”
The stocky man nodded. He said to Ed Jolly, “You’re really isolated out here, old-timer. How do you make a living?”
“Oh, a dozen or more cars a day take this toad,” Ed said. “Everyone stops, because there’s no place else to go. Most generally they have a drink or a snack besides buying gas, and a lot of them buy stuff from the store. We have a little grocery department, mainly for the convenience of nearby ranches, but tourists buy stuff too. Then we got a couple of sleeping rooms that people rent now and then.”
“A drink, you say?” a gaunt, emaciated, and chinless man asked. “You got a bar here?”
Before Ed could reply, the stocky man said in a definite tone, “Nothing doing, Sliver. There’ll be no drinking until our business is finished.”
The fourth man, short and burly and red-faced, said, “You live out here all alone, Pop?”
“No, my wife Mary’s inside, in case you want a snack and some coffee.”
No one took the suggestion. The stocky man named Mark gazed around. Noting the dim outline of the big structure behind the store, he asked, “What’s that building?”
Following the direction of his gaze, Ed said, “Barn. We don’t use it, except to garage our pickup. Fellow owned this place before us raised a little livestock on the side. We keep a few chickens, is all.”
The stocky man continued to gaze around, his expression contemplative. “You have two sleeping rooms, you say?”
“Uh-huh. One double bed and one twin bed, so folks can take their choice on how they want to sleep. Five dollars a night per person, with breakfast thrown in.”
The tank overflowed. Ed cut the valve and hung up the hose. He cleaned the windshield, then asked, “Check under the hood?”
The lean driver said, “No, it’s okay,” and glanced at the amount registered on the pump.
It registered $3.10. The driver handed Ed four $1 bills.
“Keep the change, Pop.”
“Well, thanks,” Ed said. “Mighty good of you.”
“Let’s get moving,” the stocky man said crisply, and climbed in back.
As though they were soldiers obeying the command of a superior officer, the other three immediately climbed in too. Ed watched the twin taillights out of sight, then shut off the gas pumps and went back inside to report the ninety-cent tip to Mary.
“Must be businessmen going to a conference somewhere,” he guessed. “Stocky fellow seemed to be the boss at least, the others all snapped when he spoke up. Probably the company president, and the others all work for him.”
He plucked an apple from the box on the counter, tossed it in the air, caught it behind his back, then started eating it.
Just before 4:30 the following afternoon the sound of a car traveling at high speed came from the west. Ed, who had nearly perfect pitch although he had never attempted to develop his potential musical talent, recognized the engine sound.
“Those business fellows coming back,” he said to Mary. “Maybe this time they’ll have a snack.”
He was waiting at the pumps when they drove in. The car didn’t pull up before the pumps, however. It swung in before the entrance to the General Store. Three of the men got out, the driver remaining behind the wheel. The stocky Mark carried a black, obviously heavy satchel.
“Get our overnight bags from the trunk,” Mark ordered the two who had got out of the car with him. Then he said to the driver, “Park it in the barn, Joey, and be sure to close the door.”
Ed, who had come over from the pumps, looked at the stocky man inquiringly.
“We’ve decided to rent your two sleeping rooms,” the man said. “You don’t mind if we use your barn as a garage, do you?”
“Course not,” Ed said. “Plenty of room. There’s nothing in it but our old pickup.”
Joey, the driver, had handed his keys through the window to the emaciated and chinless man called Sliver. The latter unlocked the car trunk, lifted out four overnight bags, slammed the trunk lid, and handed back the keys. The burly, red-faced man picked up two of the bags, Sliver picked up the other two, and they went into the store.
Joey started the car engine, backed and swung into the dirt lane leading to the barn. Ed followed the stocky Mark inside. The other two had set down the overnight bags just inside the door, but Mark hung on to the heavy satchel.