A Handy Death (25 page)

He raised his eyes for one moment, looking at Ross, asking to be understood, but Ross's face was expressionless. Mike had stopped drinking and was watching Quirt from beneath his beetled brows. Quirt dropped his eyes again to the glass he was twisting in his hands, and continued.

“I guess maybe I felt I'd done my duty to Billy with the monthly checks, and I didn't want any trouble at home. Clara could be—well, never mind. She wasn't well, and I didn't want to upset her.…” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “It's true she wasn't well, but the other isn't the whole truth. The whole truth is that I was a coward. I should have owned up, gotten Billy the best lawyer there was, and stayed there and fought it out at his side. But I didn't. I knew he had Gorman for his lawyer, and I thought Louie was a fair lawyer, and then I ran out during the trial—ran away to Japan. And when I heard Billy got four to eight at Attica, it was too late. So I said to myself, that's that, forget it.” He sighed, staring at his hands. “But your conscience doesn't let you forget …”

Quirt paused. The room was silent, the occupants all watching him. It was with an almost visible effort that he finally raised his eyes, looking at the tall young man sitting across from him.

“Billy? I'm all alone in a big house. Would you consider coming home and living with me? And trying out for the team again …?”

There was the sharp ring of the telephone; it jarred the tense moment, but also relieved it, the interruption giving everyone a moment to adjust. Sharon raised the receiver, listened a moment, and then hung up. She came to her feet, motioning Ross into the corridor. He closed the door behind them, looking down at her upturned face.

Sharon said anxiously, “What do you think Billy will do?”

“I have no idea,” Ross said, and frowned. “You didn't call me out of the room for that. What was that telephone call?”

“Oh, that,” Sharon said. “It's Jimmy Carter. I told Molly you wanted to see him, and he just walked in.”

“Good!” Ross said grimly. “I want a word with that man!”

He walked down the corridor with determination, with Sharon hurrying to keep up. In the reception room a rather stocky, pleasant-faced man was leaning over the telephone switchboard, speaking with Molly. At sight of Ross he straightened up, smiling.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Ross?”

“I did.” Ross motioned Carter toward the far side of the long room, out of earshot of the two girls. He paused a moment, sizing up the other without coming to any immediate conclusion. “All right, Mr. Carter, just what are you doing here?”

“I just came in to see Molly, and she—”

“Please!” Ross said sternly. He put on his best cross-examination manner, while managing to keep his voice low. “I want the truth, Mr. Carter, and I'm prepared to take whatever steps are necessary to get it. You come here with a flimsy story about looking for a dentist on the other side of town, a story nobody but a child—or Molly—would believe. First you're looking for a Dr. Ross, and then it turns out it's a Dr. Gross. You should have prepared your part better, Mr. Carter. Now, I'm going to ask you one more time. What are you
really
doing here?”

Carter's face was flaming red; he twisted his hat in his hands. He looked down at the floor, up at the walls, over at the magazines on the end table, and only with great effort finally managed to face Ross.

“Mr. Ross,” he said in a low voice, “I—I—”

“Yes, Mr. Carter?”

“I—I—”

“I suggest you face the simple fact, Mr. Carter, that your charade is over. Answer my question.”

Carter's embarrassment was painful to see. He bit his lip and finally spoke.

“All right, Mr. Ross. I'll tell you. I saw Molly at a dance one night and I wanted to meet her. But I—well, I was too shy. I wanted to cut in on her while she was dancing, but I didn't have the nerve. I tried to work up to it, but before I could, she'd gone home. Someone told me she worked here, for you, so I finally managed to get up my courage and I came up here, but when I saw her …” He sighed. “I lost my nerve again, so I made up the first story that came into my head.” There was no doubt of the honesty of his story. He shrugged apologetically. “I—I don't have too much imagination …”

There were several moments of silence; then Ross grinned.

“Don't worry,” he said. “I have enough for both of us.”

He smiled at the embarrassed man and walked back toward the corridor, winking at Molly as he passed. Sharon joined him.

“Well?” she asked curiously.

“You remember that special account you opened to cover the expense of your fabulous night out on the town with Jimmy?” Ross asked. “Well, you can transfer it—”

“And add it to Mr. Quirt's?”

“No,” Ross said sadly. “To mine. Nondeductible.”

He smiled down at Sharon and put his arm around her shoulder. Then the two of them continued down the corridor toward the conference room to learn Billy Dupaul's decision.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion there of in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or here in after invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1973 by Robert L. Fish

Cover design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 9781784089900

This 2015 edition published by
MysteriousPress.com
/Head of Zeus

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 9781784089900

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