Hit and Run

'If you were young and beautiful, would you be happy married to R.A.?' Joe asked and grinned. 'It's the old, old story, of course. The only reason why she could possibly have married him is she was after his cheque book. So now she lives in a twelve-bedroom house. So now she can hang a diamond necklace around her pretty neck. So now she can have R.A. all to herself. But I bet she's not happy.'

'You know it's funny, but I don't remember hearing he had a wife. Where did she come from?'

'I wouldn't know. The front row of some snappy chorus, I'd imagine. He married her about a year before you joined us,' Joe said. 'That would make her scarcely seventeen when he hooked her – talk about cradle-snatching. Anyway, you look out for her. She's really worth seeing.'

'Suppose you stop gossiping and get out of here?' I said. 'I've only ten more minutes before the board.'

I hadn't time then to think about what Joe had said, but later I did think about it. It made me feel pretty bad to think she had thrown herself away for the sake of R.A.'s money. I felt sure Joe was right. There couldn't be any other reason why she had married him.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, I called Aitken. I was feeling as if I had been fed through a wringer. The board meeting had been tougher than I had thought possible, and Templeman, finding Aitken wasn't there to keep him under control, had come out with his ten-inch guns blazing. But I had handled him, and I had handled the rest of the board. I had finally got them to agree to the items R.A. was anxious about, and that in itself was a major triumph.

So I called R.A.'s house without even waiting to get back to my own office, and the ringing tone had scarcely started up, when I heard a click and a girl's voice said, 'Hello? Who is that?'

I knew it was her, and the sound of her voice made me short of breath. For a moment I couldn't speak, and I sat there motionless, with the receiver against my ear, listening to her gentle breathing.

'Hello? Who is that?' she asked again.

'This is Chester Scott,' managed to get out. 'Can I speak to Mr. Aitken?'

'Mr. Scott?' she said. 'Why, yes, of course. Will you hold on, please? He is expecting you.'

'How is he?' I said because I wanted to go on listening to this soft, exciting voice.

'He's getting along very well.' Was I imagining that her tone lacked enthusiasm? 'The doctor is very pleased with him,' then she pulled the plug out, and after a moment or so, R.A. came on the line.

CHAPTER TWO

I

I got to the Gables just after eight o'clock.

While I drove to the house I wondered if I would see her again. The thought of her gave me a sick, dry feeling in my mouth and made my heart thump hard and unevenly.

When I reached the house I saw someone had turned off the flood-lighting in the garden and the swimming-pool, but the place still looked pretty impressive in the hard, white light of the moon.

I left the car before the front entrance, climbed the steps and rang the bell. After the usual delay, Watkins opened the door.

'Good evening, sir,' he said. 'A fine night.'

'Yes,' I said, and moved past him into the hall. 'How is Mr. Aitken?'

'Fairly well, I would say. Perhaps he is a little nervous tonight. If I may suggest, I wouldn't stay longer than necessary.'

'I'll cut it as short as I can.'

'That would be good of you, sir.'

We rode up in the elevator. The old boy breathed heavily and I could hear the starched front of his shirr creaking every time he dragged down a breath.

Aitken was propped up in bed, a cigar gripped between his teeth. Across his knees lay a couple of financial papers, and a pencil and scratch pad lay by his side. He looked a little flushed, and the light from the bedside lamp showed up the sweat beads on his forehead. His mouth turned down at the corners and his eyes looked heavy. He didn't look as good as he had done the previous night.

'Come in, Scott,' he said, and the growl in his voice warned me he could be irritable.

I came over to the bed and sat down in the easy chair.

'How's the leg?' I asked, not looking at him, but concentrating on opening the brief-case I had brought with me.

'It's all right.' He swept the financial papers off the bed on to the floor. 'Hamilton called me. He said you did a good job at the meeting.'

'I'm glad he thinks so. I didn't handle Templeman too well,' I said. 'He gave me a rough ride.'

Aitken's mouth twisted into a smile.

'You handled him all right. Hamilton told me. The old fool went away with a flea in his ear. Got the minutes?'

I handed them to him.

'While I'm reading them, have a drink, and give me one too.' He waved to where a collection of bottles and glasses stood on a table against the wall. 'Give me a whisky, and I mean, put some whisky in the glass.'

The note in his voice warned me not to argue with him, so I went over to the table and made two drinks. I came back and offered him one of the glasses. He stared at it and his brows came down. He looked a real bad-tempered hellion at that moment.