Фредерик Браун - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 37, No. 6. Whole No. 211, June 1961

It was a tougher fight, afterward, to rid himself of the teachers, the P.TA. mothers, the kids, the press, the officials downtown. He lost sight of Julia Worden, but she was waiting when he went off-duty at four.

“Fischer’s parole is revoked,” she said quietly as they strolled out to her car. “And I’ve also wired Redfield to come back and take over.”

“Why do that?” Manning asked, dismayed.

“I’m not quitting, Marshal. I want to get back up north — I have some things I want to discuss with my father and the other members of the Parole Board. I don’t know how much good it will do.”

“We can always hope,” said Manning. The light in her eyes, meeting his, blanked out the little lines of weariness. “You won’t be leaving tonight,” he suggested. She shook her head. “Then how about dinner?” he asked.

“If it’s out of the city, and away from...”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll pick you up about seven.”

As she drove off he looked at the sky and smiled. Full moon tonight too.

Cora Rogan came upon the girl at a curve in the walk where a white birch cast a pattern of light shade. She was sitting cross-legged on the grass under the birch, just at the edge of the walk, and shadows of leaves danced with the warm breeze in her hair and on her white dress.

She was playing jacks. She would lean forward and scatter the small metal pieces on the smooth concrete, and then she would toss a rubber ball into the air, letting it bounce once, and between the time it rose and fell and rose on the bounce, she would scoop up some of the jacks, whatever number was required at that particular stage of the game, and catch in the same hand the ball as it descended. She was wonderfully adept at it.

Cora stood and watched her do her twos and threes without a miss. If she was aware of Cora’s presence, she gave no sign.

“Hello,” Cora said, after a while.

The girl looked up and smiled, holding the jacks and rubber ball in her right hand. She had a small, heart-shaped face with large gray eyes. Although she was very pretty, it was not her prettiness that Cora was struck with, but the serenity in her eyes and smile that seemed to be of a piece with the way she held her hands and head and sat so quietly cross-legged on the grass.

“Hello,” she said.

“I was watching you play. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Why should I?”

“I don’t know. It might make you nervous and cause you to miss.”

“I never get nervous, and I hardly ever miss. Only once in a while, when I get to some of the more difficult things.”

“You’re quite good, all right. I could see that.”

“Would you care to play a game with me?”

“I don’t know how.”

“Oh, it’s very simple. I’ll show you as we go along.”

“All right, but you mustn’t expect me to be much competition.”

Cora sat down beside the girl in position to use the concrete walk to play on. She could hear someone whistling a tune behind a spirea bush farther along the walk, but no one was in sight.

“You must throw out the jacks,” the girl said, “and pick them up while the ball bounces. Then you must catch the ball in the same hand with the jacks. First you do one at a time, and then two at a time, until finally you must pick them all up together. After that, there are some more difficult things to do.”

“Perhaps you’d better explain the more difficult things when we come to them.”

“Yes. I thought that would be better. What you must remember is that it’s very important how you throw the jacks out. You must try to throw them so that it’s easy to pick them up in ones or twos or threes or whatever number.”

“I see.”

“If you touch a jack you aren’t supposed to pick up, or even make it move by pushing another jack against it, that means you miss and must give up your turn.”

“All right. I think I understand it up to the more difficult things.”

“Then you may have first turn.”

She handed Cora the ball and jacks, and Cora threw out the jacks and began to play. She went through the ones all right, and through the twos, but she missed on the threes.

“That was very good for a beginning,” the girl said.

“Do you think so? Thank you.”

“If you had thrown out the threes a little more carefully, you could have gone right on.”

“I threw them too hard, I think.”

“Yes, they were too scattered for threes. The ball bounced twice before you could pick them up. Did you understand that it’s a miss if the ball bounces twice?”

“Yes. I understood that.”

“I believe I neglected to tell you.”

“That’s all right. I knew it.”

“Then it’s my turn.”

She gathered up the jacks and threw them out and began to play and was soon through the game as far as she had explained it. Then she began to do the more difficult plays, explaining each one carefully and clearly before attempting it, so that Cora would know in advance exactly what was required of her.

Some of the plays demanded considerable dexterity, but she completed them all in order, after explanations, and then she laughed with pleasure in her skill, at the same time looking at Cora ruefully because of beating her so easily.

“You’re far too good for me,” Cora said.

“Well, it’s mostly a matter of practice. I shouldn’t be surprised if you became quite good after you’ve played a while.”

“I could never become as good as you.”

“Would you like to play on through, just to learn? Misses won’t count. I’ll explain things again as you go along.”

“Oh, no. That wouldn’t be any fun for you.”

“I don’t mind. We could play another game after you’ve practiced.”

“No, thank you. I know when I’m thoroughly beaten.” Cora laughed and stood up, looking down at the shadows of leaves in pale hair. “I’m on my way up to the house to see your mother. Is she there?”

“Yes. She’s on the back terrace, I think.”

“Is your father there too?”

“My father’s dead. He died before I was born.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“My mother killed him. She shot him accidentally.”

“What a terrible mistake!”

“She told me about it herself when I was old enough to understand. She thought it would be better than having me hear it from someone else.”

“Your mother was wise to tell it to you in her own way.”

“What do you want to see my mother about?”

“I thought she might like to contribute to a charity I’m interested in.”

“Well, I don’t know. Mother’s very rich, of course, because of all the money Father left her, but she already has certain charities she supports.”

“In any case, it will do no harm to ask her, will it?”

“No. You can go right around the house to the terrace if you like.”

“I don’t think I’d better do that. I’ll ring at the front door and ask permission to see her first.”

“Perhaps that would be better. Will you be back this way soon?”

“Probably. Pretty soon.”

“If I’m still here, I’ll say goodbye to you then.”

“That would be nice.”

“Thank you for playing jacks with me.”

“You’re quite welcome, I’m sure The pleasure was mine.”

Cora turned away and went on up the curving concrete walk past a small fountain showering water like shards of glittering glass into the sunlight. Beyond the fountain she ascended three wide steps and passed between tall columns onto the veranda of a Colonial-style house.

The house was white with dark green shutters at the windows, and it looked cool and gracious in the while, hot light of the afternoon. It was, in fact, much cooler on the veranda, out of the sun, and Cora waited for a few seconds with the most delicious sense of relief and pleasure before ringing the door-bell.