Тэлмидж Пауэлл - The Third Talmage Powell Crime MEGAPACK™ - 25 Classic Mysteries

“No, George... George, you have to...”

George didn’t have to do anything but press the trigger once, twice, three times, to stop the noises in his head. The bullets punctured a lung, the solar plexus, and a bleeding ulcer.

Just after midnight, a young intern brought Mrs. Violetta Crabtree Harper the news. She rose quietly as he crossed the hospital waiting room.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Harper. Everything possible was done for Eddie. But your nephew has only a few more hours at best. Dr. Picard sent me ahead. He’ll be down as soon as possible.

“No,” Aunt Crabby said after a thoughtful moment, “the need for Dr. Picard is much greater in surgery...” Aunt Crabby took a long breath. “Please advise him to begin immediate preparations for the next heart transplant on his waiting list. It appears we shall have a donor — and I’m sure poor Eddie’s dear, wonderful heart will keep life’s blood pumping for someone else for a long time to come...”

The nervous sweats didn’t hit him until late that evening. In his bed-sitting room suite down the hall from Aunt Crabby’s, he tried to focus on a TV show. He’d expected tension, not knowing precisely when George Dutcher would make his move. He could handle himself — if his ulcer didn’t start bleeding. Every few minutes he went from his sitting room to the medicine cabinet to gulp soda mints, tranquilizing pills.

He fiddled with the TV set while his mind rolled a film of his own. He was talking with quiet grief to a policeman: Yes, sir, I drove up-county to the mental hospital. I saw Dutcher. My aunt asked me to do so. She’d learned that Mrs. Dutcher had a living husband. She told me to stop by Mrs. Dutcher’s first and then visit Mr. Dutcher on some kind of pretext. My aunt wanted to help both of them. She was going to set up a small fund for Mrs. Dutcher. The bankers will tell you that. She wanted to know something about Mr. Dutcher, how he looked, what he was like. Then, I suppose, she planned to take further steps on his behalf... Yes, sir...terrible thing, Mr. Dutcher breaking in and killing her like that... But no doubt at all as to who did it... I’m sorry, sir... Only my aunt could tell you any more, and she’s no longer with us...

Pat story. Stand on it. Stick to it. No one could disprove it. If the police started whistling, it would be in the dark.

The acid fount was loosed for the third time since dinner. Eddie clutched his stomach, came off his sitting room couch, and headed for the medicine cabinet with its woefully inadequate balms.

Halfway across the bedroom, he grimaced as someone knocked on the door. He turned to the door and yanked it open. Dr. Picard was standing in the hallway.

“Well...” Eddie said. “How are you, doctor? I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Routine call on my patient — in a way.” Dr. Picard chuckled. “But it turned into quite a chat. Say, my boy, do you feel up to par? You look very pale.”

“Just tired.”

Dr. Picard laid his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’ve been through it, all right. But you can relax now. Take a vacation. Start enjoying yourself.” He glanced down the empty hallway. “She really is a changed woman, Eddie. I think she’s going to open up the purse strings — for as long as she lives. And you do deserve it, you know. You’ve attended her faithfully for a long time now.”

“For as long... as she lives?”

Dr. Picard’s hand gave Eddie’s shoulder a benign squeeze. “No, no, my boy! I didn’t mean it that way! She’s taken no turn for the worse. By the time she passes away you’ll be an old retired businessman yourself.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“She wants to further the kind of research that did so much for her. In fact, during her last days in the hospital she whiled away some of the boredom of convalescent time by discussing it with her lawyer and having him draw up all the necessary papers.” Again Dr. Picard looked in the direction of Aunt Crabby’s closed door. “I think it wonderful of her. Upon her demise, the bulk of the estate will go for heart research.” The hand lifted. “Just thought you’d like the news about those loosened purse strings. If her present mood lasts — and I think it will — you won’t have to worry about settling down for a long time yet. You’ll have a ball, the kind young men dream about. But see a good G.P. and have a check-up so you can really enjoy yourself.”

With a final slap on the shoulder, Dr. Picard was gone.

Eddie came out of his stupor with a spasmodic shudder. He dashed down the stairway, grabbed the phone in the foyer, glaring wildly. Who to call? Who to warn that a madman was probably already loose and had armed himself? Hospital? Police? An anonymous call, that was the ticket.

His finger was stabbing at the dial when a voice graveled from the shadows, “Hullo, pally.”

Eddie dropped the phone and spun, his back against the table. George Dutcher was standing just inside the open front doorway. “Had to let that guy drive off, pally,” Dutcher said, shuffling forward. “Almost bumped into him.”

Originally appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , December 1977.

Rooms For Rent

Lonely widow, recently bereaved, will consider tenant for cheerful room, kitchen privileges. Must be companionable and willing to assist in care of fine old home in Rathmoor Estates. Phone 253-6655. Mrs. Thelma McCarson.

Household Goods For Sale

Moving to Rathmoor Estates. Must sell several pieces of furniture from bachelor apartment, including zebra rug, waterbed, beanbag chairs. Call 367-8765, ask for Larry Summers.

Personals

Marie, I didn’t run out. Glommed a deal. Tried to call. You had moved. Am petting gray old pigeon. List your new address or phone number in Personals column as quickly as possible. L.

Personals

L.: 564-2380. I’d better be part of the big deal. M.

Wanted To Buy

Fully restored 1S55 model Thunderbird with cloth top. Must have by April 14 for birthday gift to young friend who will be 28 on that date. His expressed desire. Price no object. Call Mrs. Thelma McCarson. 253-6655.

Lost & Found

No questions asked for return of lady’s purse taken from T-Bird parked at Foster Motel night of May 10. Keep money. Return papers, especially the reference qualifying bearer as maid in well-to-do home. Marie, 564-2380.

Employment Opportunities

Maid wanted for Rathmoor Estates home. Cheerful quarters, pleasant surroundings. Engaged couple sole occupants. Thursdays and Sundays off. Best pay. Call Mr. Larry Summers. 253-6655, who will arrange interview with employer.

Employment Opportunities

Need temporary caretaker, preferably with watchdog, to look after estate while occupants and maid travel for few weeks. Call 253-6655.

Announcements

Mr. and Mrs. Larry Summers have returned to their Rathmoor Estates home after honeymooning in Acapulco. Mrs. Summers is the former Mrs. Thelma McCarson. Friends are invited to call.

Employment Opportunities

Girl needed to do chores in Rathmoor Estates home, assistant to maid, freeing maid for other duties. Short hours, top pay. Call 253-6655 for interviews with Marie and employer.

Lost & Found

Must recover hubcaps taken from T-Bird while parked at Foster Motel on night of Sept. 21. No questions asked. Will pay reward. Call 253-6655 and hang up if Larry does not answer.

Wanted To Buy

A copy of “Toxicology. The Complete Encyclopedia of Poisons” by Harbison & Brackett. Will pay top price. Condition not important as long as contents complete. Box L-6 Chronicle-Times.