“I want to inquire about renting a lake house,” she said.
“My specialty, Mrs…”
She ignored the hint to give her name. “I have one particular place in mind. The lodge on the point.”
“Oh, you must mean the Thrasher place. Yes, that’s a rare property to be on the rental market. Don’t get many like that. The Thrashers decided to remain in Mexico City and figure the place would be better off with somebody in it. ” Hiram Hyder spread his pleasantly chubby hands. “Unfortunately, it’s been taken. ”
“That’s too bad,” Hester said. “By whom? I may know them.”
“A Mr. Joseph Smith. He came with his secretary, quite a lovely young woman.” Hyder glanced away, cleared his throat, and moved behind his desk. “But I have one other place at the moment that might interest you.”
“This Mr. Smith,” Hester said. “A big man? Powerful frame? Slightly gaunt? Iron gray hair?”
Easing a covert look at Hester, Hyder’s manner became guarded. “An exact description of the man. Why do you ask?”
There was one more question. Claude, she remembered, had taken pride in the uniqueness of his car. “Driving a convertible with a custom paint job?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Is there something you wish to tell me about Mr. Smith?”
“No, Mr. Hyder, there is nothing I wish to say about him at all.”
“About this other place…”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t do at all, Mr. Hyder. Thank you for your time. Perhaps I’ll call again.” She escaped quickly, with a nod, a turn, a flight to her car.
* * * *
When Hester entered the house, Maudie was at the kitchen table sipping coffee and munching on a sweet roll. “Mr. Bennett called while you were out. Twice. ” Maudie lowered her roll without taking a bite. “You feel all right, Mrs. Bennett?”
“A little tired, a bit dizzy; the sun, the exertion of shopping.”
Hester continued her flight, from kitchen to den, where she picked up the phone and dialed Claude’s office.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked.
“Out. Just out…”
“Well, I wish you’d be on the ball when I need you.”
She half closed her eyes. Thirty-five years on the ball, she thought Thirty-five years of being in an assigned place and on the ball. “What was it you wanted, Claude?”
“I’m not happy with Jerry Lawter’s reports. I don’t like the way things are going in the sales office downstate. I’m going down there myself and put some ginger in Jerry and staff. So pack me a bag, will you?”
“Of course, Claude. What will you need? One day bag? Two days?”
“Two days, at least,” he said. “I’ll be by in thirty minutes. I don’t want to drive all night”
“I’ll have the bag ready, Claude.”
She had the luggage prepared, set at the foot of the bed, when he arrived.
He began stripping off his shirt, preparatory to showering and donning fresh clothing. She saw the excitement sparkling deep in his eyes, the almost frenzied movements of his hands.
“Haven’t you anything better to do,” he said suddenly and shortly, “than to stand there and gawk at me?”
A coldness washed over her, settling in her eyes. Looking at her, Claude made a movement expressing discomfort, turning away from her. “Sorry,” he said. “But you know how it is, things fouled up in Jerry Lawter’s office and all. You do understand.”
“Yes, Claude, I understand.”
She wandered out of the bedroom, through the house. She was at the living room looking out the windows, when Claude paused in the foyer, the packed suitcase in his hand. “Well,” he said, a faint note of awkwardness in his tone, “mind the posies while I’m gone.”
“Have a good trip,” she said.
It was the end of conversation. She heard him go out. From the window, she saw him put the suitcase in the back seat of the car, which he’d parked at the curb. He got in the car and drove off. She stood at the window and watched it out of sight. Then she turned quietly, went into the den, closed the door, picked up the phone, and dialed the long distance operator.
When his secretary put the call through, Jerry Lawter’s voice was filled with concern and anxiety. “Mrs. Bennett? It’s not Claude? I mean, the boss hasn’t…”
“No, Mr. Lawter. It’s still very much touch and go with him. He should avoid undue excitement and alcohol as killing plagues, but as of this moment Claude is all right. The fact is, he just left here, saying he was on his way to see you. ”
“Fine,” Jerry Lawter said more calmly, “I’ll be glad to see him.”
“You must give him a message, Mr. Lawter, immediately on arrival. He asked me at the last minute to pack for him. And I—I’m afraid I made a dreadful mistake. In the rush, I took the wrong pills from the medicine cabinet. Mr. Lawter…Claude is carrying useless headache pellets instead of the nitroglycerin pills so vitally necessary if he should have…if an attack… Three days… He’ll be away three days…”
“I understand, Mrs. Bennett. I’ll tell him the very instant he gets here.”
“Thank you,” Hester whispered. “Thank you very much.”
She wasn’t aware of moving, until she felt the hot afternoon sunlight on her face. She looked about the yard. A faint laugh came from her. Strange, she’d never before noticed how small and cramped the yard really was.
She crossed to the nearest flower bed and deliberately began pulling the plants out by the roots, one by one. She dropped each plant on the moist earth for a quick death in the sun.
THE FIVE YEAR CAPER
Originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, August 1965.
The day was uneventful, except for the incident that occurred as Henry Overby was preparing to close his teller’s cage at the end of the working day.
As he was totaling the cash in his drawer, Henry had the sensation of being watched. He glanced up, and there was Mr. Joshua Tipton, the bank president himself, standing in the doorway of his
