Эллери Куин: The Door Between

Dr. Scott was inclined to be gloomy. “Practice fell off this month. I know what’s done it, too.”

“Well, doesn’t it always in the summer?”

“Ye-es, but—”

A horrible suspicion flashed across Eva’s mind. “Richard Scott, don’t tell me it’s because of you and me!”

“Frankly, I think so.”

“You... you gigolo!” cried Eva. “Attracting all those — all those creatures! And just because you’re engaged to me they’ve stopped coming. I know ’em — cats, all of them! And you’re as bad as they are. Sorry because...”

She started to cry. It was their first quarrel and Eva took it very hard. As for Dr. Scott, he looked as if he had just stepped on something squashy.

“Darling! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — I’m mad about you! You’ve ruined me! But I love you just the same, and if those damned hypochondriacs won’t come, the devil with ’em.”

“Oh, Dick,” she sobbed in his arms. “I’ll slave with you, I’ll do anything! ”

And after that Eva was very happy again, because he kissed her in a special place and then took her to the corner drugstore for a chocolate ice-cream soda, which she loved.

In early September Dr. MacClure wrote from Stockholm that he was coming home. Eva went flying to her fiancé ’s office with the letter.

“Hmm,” said Richard critically, scanning the neat chirography. “About as informative as a mummy about himself.”

“Do you think the trip’s done him good?” asked Eva anxiously, as if Dr. Scott could see across four thousand miles.

“Must have, darling. Now don’t worry. If he’s not all right we’ll fix him up as soon as he lands. He’s at sea now.”

“I wonder if Karen knows,” said Eva excitedly. “I suppose she does. Daddy must have written her.”

“I’d think so. After all, she’s his future wife.”

“And that reminds me, Richard Scott.” Eva plucked at a flower on his desk. “Talking about future wives...”

“Yes?” he said blankly.

“Oh, Dickie, don’t be stupid!” Eva blushed. “Can’t you see... I’m—”

“Oh,” said Richard.

Eva faced him. “Dick, when are we going to be married?”

“Now, angel—” he began, laughing and pulling at her.

“No, Dick,” said Eva quietly. “I’m serious.”

They faced each other over the desk for a long time. Then Dr. Scott sighed and sat limply down in his swivel-chair. “All right,” he said irritably. “I’m licked. I thought — I’ve got to the point where I’m eating you for breakfast and seeing you in every chest I poke at with my ’scope.”

“Dick!”

“I never thought I’d get to saying to a woman, ‘I can’t live without you,’ but I’m there, all right. Damn you, Eva, I’ll marry you the minute old John comes home!”

“Oh, Dick,” whispered Eva, for her throat was too full. She came around the desk and dropped tiredly into his lap, as if after a great struggle...

After a while Eva kissed Richard’s handsome nose on the tip, slapped his hand, wriggled off his lap. “Stop that! I’m going right down to Washington Square and see Karen.”

“Give me a break, will you?” he growled. “You can see Karen any time.”

“No. I’ve been neglecting her dreadfully and besides—”

“Me, too,” he grumbled, pressing a button on his desk. His nurse came in. “No more patients to-day, Miss Harrigan.” As the nurse went out he said: “Now come here.”

“No!”

“Do you want me to make a fool of myself and chase you all around the office?”

“Oh, Dickie darling, please,” said Eva, busily powdering her nose. “I’ve got to see Karen.”

“Why all this love for Karen?”

“Let me go! I want to tell her, you fool. I’ve got to tell somebody .”

“Then I guess I’ll take a nap,” he said disconsolately. “I know you when your chin sticks out! I was up all night holding Mrs Maarten’s hand and convincing her having a baby was like having a tooth pulled.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” crooned Eva, kissing him again. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she? Have a nice nap.”

“Will I see you to-night? After all, we ought to celebrate—”

“Dick! Don’t! Dick— Yes,” said Eva, and fled.

Eva emerged into the Park Avenue sunshine looking exactly like a girl who has just been well-kissed and the date of her marriage set. She was so full of happiness that the doorman grinned and the taxicab driver threw away his toothpick to open the door for her.

She gave Karen’s address and leaned back in the cab, closing her eyes. So here it was at last. Marriage — just around the corner. Not any old marriage, but marriage to Richard. There would be a lot of gossip, of course — how she had thrown herself at him and practically hogtied him; but let them talk. They were all envious. And the more envious they were, she thought blissfully, the happier she would be. It was awful thinking such a thing, but she wanted every woman in the world to be jealous of her. She felt a little stifled under her jacket. Mrs Richard Barr Scott... It sounded nice. It did sound nice.

When the cab stopped in front of Karen’s Eva got out and paid the man off and paused on the stoop to look over the Square. The park was brilliant in the four o’clock sunshine, brilliant and beautiful with its geometrical grasses and the fountain and the nurses wheeling baby carriages. Watching the carriages, Eva felt herself flush; she had been thinking of babies recently rather more than was decent. And then she thought that if she and Richard could not live in Westchester or Long Island after they were married, nothing would be sweeter than to live in a house like Karen’s. It was quite the nicest house she knew in New York. With a really livable series of bedrooms — the drapes—

She rang the bell.

Their own place in the East Sixties was just an apartment. Despite all the fussing Eva had lavished on it, it had never been anything but an apartment. But Dr. MacClure had refused to move farther than a whistle’s blast from his Cancer Foundation, and it was true that a whole house would have been a useless luxury, since Eva was never at home and the doctor, of course, virtually lived in his laboratory. The doctor... For a secret moment Eva was gladder than she had ever been that Karen and Dr. MacClure would some time be married. She felt a little guilty, thinking of going away and leaving him all alone in that awful apartment. Perhaps they could—

A strange maid opened the door.

Eva was surprised. But she went through the vestibule and asked: “Is Miss Leith home?” — a silly question, but one you always asked, somehow.

“Yes, Miss. Who’s calling?” The maid was a sullen young creature, as yet apparently untrained.

“Eva MacClure. Oh, you don’t have to announce me — I’m not company,” said Eva. “What happened to Elsie?”

“Oh, she must have got fired,” said the maid with a trace of animation.

“Then you’re new here?”

“Yes’m.” She had empty, stupid eyes. “Three weeks, it is.”

“Heavens!” said Eva in dismay. “Is it that long? Where’s Miss Leith? In the garden?”

“No’m. Upstairs.”

“Then I’ll go right up.” Eva mounted the wide stairway lightly, leaving the new maid to stare after her.

Downstairs and in the basement servants’ quarters Karen Leith’s house was as Western as the interior decorator could make it; but upstairs Karen and the East had had their way. All the bedrooms were Japanese, full of furniture and gewgaws Karen had brought back with her from her father’s house in Tokyo. It was a pity, thought Eva as she went up, that so few people had ever seen Karen’s bedrooms; for they were as quaint and absurd as specimen rooms in a museum.