Raspberry Jam Part 27

"Election to what?" growled Shane.

"President of the Metropolitan Athletic Club--a big organization--"

"H'm! Who's the opposing candidate?"

"I am," replied Hendricks, quietly.

"You! Well, Mr. Hendricks, where were you last night, when this man was killed?"

"In Boston." Hendricks did not smile, but he looked as if the question annoyed him.

"You can prove that?"

"Yes, of course. I stayed at the Touraine, was with friends till well after midnight, and took the seven o'clock train this morning for New York, in company with the same men. You can look up all that, at your leisure; but there is a point in what Mr. Elliott says. I can't think that any of the club members would be so keen over the election as to do away with one of the candidates, but there's the situation. Go to it."

"It leaves something to be looked into, at any rate," mused Shane.

"Why didn't you think of it for yourself?" said Hendricks, rather scathingly. "It seems to me a detective ought to look a little beyond his nose!"

"I can't think we've got to, in this case," Shane persisted; "but I'm willing to try. Also, Mrs. Embury, I'll ask you for the address of the lady who went with you to see that play."

"Certainly," said Eunice, in a cold voice, and gave the address desired.

"And, now, we'll move on," said Shane, rising.

"You ain't under arrest, Mrs. Embury--not yet--but I advise you not to try to leave this house without permission--"

"Indeed, I shall! Whenever and as often as I choose! The idea of your forbidding me!"

"Hush, Eunice," said Hendricks. "She will not, Mr. Shane; I'm her guaranty for that. Don't apprehend any insubordination on the part of Mrs. Embury."

"Not if she knows what's good for herself!" was Shane's parting shot, and the two detectives went away.

CHAPTER XI

FIFI

"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Shane, Mrs. Embury is a dear friend of mine--a very, very dear friend--and I'd so gladly go to see her--and comfort her--console with her--and try to cheer her up--but--well, I asked her last night, over the telephone, to let me go to see her to-day--and--she--she--"

Mrs. Desternay's pretty blue eyes filled with tears, and her pretty lips quivered, and she dabbed a sheer little handkerchief here and there on her countenance. Then she took up her babbling again.

"Oh, I don't mean she was unfriendly or--or cross, you know--but she was a little--well, curt, almost--I might say, cool. And I'm one of her dearest friends--and I can't quite understand it."

"Perhaps you must make allowances for Mrs. Embury," Shane suggested.

"Remember the sudden and mysterious death of her husband must have been a fearful shock--"

"Oh, terrible! Yes, indeed, I do appreciate all that! And of course when I telephoned last evening, she had just had that long interview with you--and your other detective, Mr. What's-his-name--and--oh, yes, Mr. Elliott answered my call and he told me just how things were--but I did think dear Eunice would want to see me--but it's all right--of course, if she doesn't want my sympathy. I'm the last one to intrude on her grief! But she has no one--no one at all--except that old aunt, who's half foolish, I think--"

"What do you mean, half foolish?"

"Oh, she's hipped over those psychic studies of hers, and she's all wrapped up in Spiritualism and occult thingamajigs--I don't know what you call 'em."

"She seems to me a very sane and practical lady."

"In most ways--yes; but crazy on the subject of spooks, and mediums and things like that! Oh, Mr. Shane, who do you suppose killed Mr. Embury?

How awful! To have a real murder right in one's owns circle of acquaintances--I had almost said friends--but dear Eunice doesn't seem to look on me as her friend--"

The blue eyes made a bid for sympathy, and Shane, though not always at ease in the presence of society ladies, met her half way.

"Now, that's a pity, Mrs. Desternay! I'm sure you'd be the greatest help to her in her trouble."

Fifi Desternay raised her hands and let them fall with a pretty little gesture of helplessness. She was a slip of a thing, and--it was the morning of the day after the Embury tragedy--she was garbed in a scant but becoming negligee, and had received the detective in her morning room, where she sat, tucked into the corner of a great davenport sofa, smoking cigarettes.

Her little face was delicately made up, and her soft, fair hair was in blobs over her ears. For the rest, the effect was mostly a rather low V'd neck and somewhat evident silk stockings and beribboned mules.

She continually pulled her narrow satin gown about her, and it as continually slipped away from her lace petticoat, as she crossed and recrossed her silken legs.

She was entirely unself-conscious and yet, the detective felt instinctively that she carefully measured every one of the words she so carelessly uttered.

"Well, Mr. Shane," she said, suddenly, "we're not getting anywhere.

Just exactly what did you come here for? What do you want of me?"

The detective was grateful for this a.s.sistance.

"I came," he stated, without hesitation, "to ask you about the circ.u.mstances of the party which Mrs. Embury attended here night before last, the night her husband--died."

"Oh, yes; let me see--there isn't much to tell. Eunice Embury spent the evening here--we had a game of cards--and, before supper was served, Mr. Embury called for her and took her home--in their car.

That's all I know about it."

"What was the card game?"

"Bridge."

"For high stakes?"

"Oh, mercy, no! We never really gamble!" The fluttering little hands deprecated the very idea. "We have just a tiny stake--to--why, only to make us play a better game. It does, you know."

"Yes'm. And what do you call a tiny stake? Opinions differ, you know."

"And so do stakes!" The blue eyes flashed a warning. "Of course, we don't always play for the same. Indeed, the sum may differ at the various tables. Are you prying into my private affairs?"

"Only so far as I'm obliged to, ma'am. Never mind the bridge for the moment. Was Mr. Embury annoyed with his wife--for any reason--when he called to take her home?"

"Now, how should I know that?" a pretty look of perplexity came into the blue eyes. "I'm not a mind reader!"