He knew his wife couldn't run this menagerie, and his daughter wasn't interested. That's why he was as nice as pie as far as I was concerned. And he paid a good dollar, I'll say that.'
'All this on a professor's salary?'
'Oh no. No no no. He comes from old money. His grandfather and father were in shipping. He inherited a pile.'
'What was he so sore about?' I asked her. 'He seems to have hated the world.'
She shrugged her thick shoulders.
'Who can tell a thing like that? I know he had some disappointments in his life, but who hasn't? I know he got passed over for promotion at the University — that's why he resigned — and once, when he was younger, he got jilted.
But nothing important enough that I know of that would turn him into the kind of man he was. To tell you the truth, I think he just enjoyed being mean. More tea?'
'Please.'
I watched her pour and dilute with hot water. 'They've been looking for the Professor's will,' I said. 'It's missing.
Did you know that?'
'Did I? They tore my kitchen apart looking for it. Even the flour bin. Took me hours to get it tidy again.'
'Glynis told me her father cleaned his study himself.
Wouldn't let anyone in there. Is that right?'
'Recently,' she said. 'In the month before he disappeared.
Before that, he let me in to dust and straighten up. We have a cleaning crew that comes in once a week to give the place a good going-over, vacuum the rugs and wash down the bathrooms — things like that. He'd let them in his study if I was there. Then, about a month before he vanished, he wouldn't let anyone in. Said he'd clean the place himself.'
'Did he give any reason for this change?'
'Said he was working on this book, had valuable papers in there and didn't want them disturbed.'
'Uh-huh,' I said. 'Mrs Stonehouse and her daughter told me that just before he walked out on the evening of January 10th, he went into his study for a few minutes. Did you see him?'
'I did. I was in the dining room. It was Olga's night off, so I was cleaning up after dinner. He came in from the living room, went into the study, and came out a few minutes later. That was the last time I saw him.'
'Did he close the study door after he went in?'
'Yes.'
'Did you hear anything in there?'
'Like what?' she asked.
'Anything. Anything that might give me an idea of what he was doing. Thumping around? Moving furniture?'
She was silent, trying to remember. I waited patiently.
'I don't k n o w. . ' she said. 'It was a month ago. Maybe I heard him slam a desk drawer. But I couldn't swear to it.'
'That's another thing,' I said. 'The desk drawers. Did he keep them locked?'
'Yes,' she said definitely. 'He did keep them locked when he wasn't there. I remember because once he lost his keys and we had to have a locksmith come in and open the desk.'
'No one else had a key to his desk?'
'Not that I know of.'
'Effie, what happened between the Professor and his son?'
'The poor lamb,' she mourned. 'Powell got kicked out of the house.'
'Why?'
'He wouldn't get a job, and he wouldn't go back to the University to get his degree, and he was running with a wild bunch in Greenwich Village. Then the Professor caught Powell smoking pot in his bedroom, and that did it.'
'Does Powell have a job now?'
'Not that I know of.'
'How does he live?'
'I think he has a little money of his own that his grandmother left him. Also, I think Mrs Stonehouse and 66
Glynis help him out now and then, unbeknownst to the Professor.'
'When did this happen?'
'Powell getting kicked out? More than a year ago.'
'But he still comes here for dinner?'
'Only in the last two or three months. Mrs Stonehouse cried and carried on so and said Powell was starving, and Glynis worked on her father, too, and eventually he said it would be all right for Powell to have dinner here if he wanted to, but he couldn't move back in.'
'All right,' I said. 'Now what about Glynis? Does she work?'
'Not anymore. She did for a year or two, but she quit.'
'Where did she work?'
'I think she was a secretary in a medical laboratory.
Something like that.'
'But now she does nothing?'
'She's a volunteer three days a week in a clinic downtown. But no regular job.'
'Have many friends?'
'Seems to. She goes out a lot. The theatre and ballet and so forth. Some weeks she's out every night.'
'One particular boyfriend?'
'Not that I know of.'
'Does she ever have her friends here? Does she entertain?'
'No,' Mrs Effie Dark said sadly. 'I never see any of her friends. And there hasn't been much in the way of entertaining in this house. Not for years.'
She waved a plump hand around, gesturing towards overhead racks, the utensils, the bins and spice racks, stove, in-the-wall oven, refrigerator, freezer.
'See all this? I don't use half this stuff for months on end. But when the kids were growing up, things were different. The Professor was at the University most of the day, and this place was filled with the kids' friends. There 67
were parties and dances right here. Even Mrs Stonehouse had teas and bridge games and get-togethers for her friends. My, I was busy. But we had another maid then, a live-in, and I didn't mind. There was noise and everyone laughed. A real ruckus. Then the Professor resigned, and he was home all day. He put a stop to the parties and dances. Gradually, people stopped coming, he was such a meany. Then we began living like hermits, tiptoeing around so as not to disturb him. Not like the old days.'
I nodded and stood up.
'Effie,' I said, 'I thank you for the refreshments and for the talk.'
'I like to talk,' she said, grinning, 'as you have probably noticed. A body could climb the walls here for the want of someone to chat with.'
'Well, I enjoyed it,' I said, 'and I learned a lot. I hope you'll let me come back and chat with you again.'
'Anytime,' she said. 'I have my own telephone. Would you like the number?'
As she dictated, I wrote it down in my notebook.
'Effie,' I said in closing, 'what do you think happened to Professor Stonehouse?'
'I don't know,' she said, troubled. 'Do you?'
'No,' I said, 'I don't.'
When I went back into the living room Mrs Stonehouse was alone, still curled into a corner of the couch. The sherry bottle was empty.
'Hi there,' she fluted. She tried to touch her nose and missed.
