He grunted softly, as if he’d been punched.
I said, “At least the girl, there—she’ll be well taken care of, now. She won’t have anything to worry about. She can go off somewhere and have herself a rest. She sure must deserve it.”
“How do you mean ‘well taken care of’?” Miraglia said.
“Don’t tell me Spondell wasn’t loaded. It’s pretty obvious who he’d leave it all to.”
“Is it?”
I frowned at him.
“You’re right,” he said. “Victor did leave Shirley some money. A lot of money.”
“Okay, then.”
I was trying to act as natural as possible, and say the things any disinterested party might say.
“Only,” he said. “It’ll be at least a year before she can touch any of the money.”
It was like being struck across the face, hard. My jaw started to drop. I said, “Oh?” fast. It came out as a kind of croak, but I let it go. “How do you mean?” I said.
I was numb all over. It made me dizzy, just sitting there looking at him. Every muscle in my body was like a steel strap, and I was trying hard to recover balance.
“It’s rather involved,” Miraglia said. “And I’m no lawyer, but I can explain it fairly well. It boils down to the fact that when a person dies intestate, the money goes to the next of kin. Meaning, in this case, Shirley. But,” he said. He really laid into that
“That’s tough,” I said.
He said, “As for getting the money Victor left her—” He moved his head slowly from side to side. “At least a year. It has to be published. By that I mean in newspapers throughout the country. A formality, in this case. It’s done because of the law, to give anyone who might contest a chance to step forward. This takes time. The law doesn’t hurry, Ruxton. It grinds exceeding slow.”
By now I had a fair grip on myself. But I was under water all the way. “I’ll be darned,” I said. “I never knew about that.”
I felt dead. Because if we had to run, we would ride the rails, or not go at all.
“All because an intercom didn’t work,” Miraglia said. “z‘For the sake of a nail, the shoe,’ and so forth.”
“You’re riding me,” I said. “Come off it.”
He looked down, then up at me again. “Maybe it’s my turn to be sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t ride you like this. I just—I don’t know. It troubles me.” The glasses glinted. “It just gnaws at me all the time. I’ve waited ever since he died to say something to you. I had to say something to somebody. I couldn’t let it go.”
I stood up. “Well, you’ve sure said it. I feel plenty bad.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t seem to realize I was on my feet, waiting for him to leave. He had something else on his mind. I had to know what it was. The guy was really beginning to scare me. I sat down again.
“I know you’re anxious to get to the store,” he said, absently. “I suppose you read about Shirley’s next door neighbor?”
Somehow, I spoke. “No. I don’t believe—what’s that?”
He was watching me closely. I sat like a rock. Inside I was flying to pieces.
He tipped his head. “Shirley feels very bad. Everything on top of everything else. Strange you didn’t see it—it was on the front page of this morning’s paper.”
“I haven’t read the paper yet.”
“You take the paper?”
“Sure—I—”
“Get it.”
Already I had remembered balling it up and throwing it in the wastepaper basket. I creaked out of the chair and walked numbly across the room. “I didn’t get it in, yet,” I said. I realized I was doing everything all wrong. I turned and went back to the chair and sat down. “What’s it about, anyway? I’ll read it later.”
“Mrs. Lamphier. I think you met her, fixed her TV set, or something.”
“Oh—her. Sure. I remember her.”
“She’s dead. They hadn’t discovered who she was when the paper went to press. But they know now. She drove into the old Blackland Canal—you know where that is.” He didn’t say it as a question, but we waited for me to answer.
“No. Don’t believe I do.”
“No matter. She apparently got drunk and drove into the canal and drowned. Her husband’s in Alaska. He’s a mining engineer. They’ve called him home.”
“That’s sure tough.”
“Isn’t it?”
“When did it happen?”
“As close as the medical examiner has come, he says probably the same night Victor Spondell died.”
“I see. Well—”
Miraglia stood up suddenly. “You know?” he said. “I feel much better now?”
“Glad.”
“I had to talk to somebody.”
“Know how it is.”
“Old Vic, he was kind of like a father to me. Something like that. I thought a lot of him.”
“I can see that.”
“Yes, well— I won’t take up any more of your time, Ruxton. Better be going.” He glanced at his watch. “Behind time,” he said. “Got the hospital rounds to make yet this morning.” He started toward the door. He glanced at the desk. The newspaper was as big as life, sticking up out of the wastepaper basket, balled and crumpled and shredded. I couldn’t tell whether he saw it or not. In any event, he couldn’t say for sure if it were today’s paper.
“I could at least have fixed some coffee,” I said.
He didn’t reply. He was nearly to the door. I saw his back stiffen. He turned, went over to the desk, stooped above the wastepaper basket and took out the paper.
I stood there. I couldn’t speak. I watched him unfold the mess of shredded leaves and look at the front page. Then he crumpled the paper up again and tossed it into the basket. He turned without looking at me and walked toward the door again.
“What was all that for?” I said.
He stopped and looked at me.
He said, “That was today’s paper, Ruxton. I thought you said you hadn’t seen today’s paper.”
“Today’s? You must be mistaken.”
“Yes. Certainly.”
I went over to the basket. I took the paper and looked at the date. I shook my head. I frowned. It was all stage acting, and lousy, at that. But I did remember not to make much of a to-do about it.
“The maid,” I said. “She was here earlier. I was still in bed. I hardly ever bother reading the paper here. She knows that. She must have thrown it away.”
“Maids can play hell,” Miraglia said. “Well, I’ll be running along. Oh,” he said. “You can read that story about Mrs. Lamphier now. If you like. The front page is rather torn up. But I guess you can make it out.”
I started for the door. He opened the door and went out and closed it softly behind him.
When the door had clicked shut I covered my face with both hands and just stood there. I didn’t know whether he was wise to anything. I didn’t know. Everything he did and said could all have been strictly on the up and up, completely natural. On the other hand...
I went over and sat down in the chair.
I was perfectly calm now, as calm as I’d ever been in my life. My mind began to function at a steady pace,
