Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

Also I learned that Miss Leeds’ mother had died on December 9, three months ago. Mrs. Chack had announced to the neighborhood that it had been a visitation of God’s slow anger at an ancient crime, and whisperings that got to the ears of the police had resulted in a discreet investigation, but nothing had come of it. Here I thought I had something up a tree, in fact I was sure I had, from the way Ann acted, but that was as far as I got. Nor was she discussing her fiance, even to the extent of admitting she had one. Evidently she was sticking to it that I was just handsome.

All of a sudden, around midnight, I realized something. What brought it to my attention was the fact that I was noticing the smell of her hair while we were dancing. I was even sniffing it. It had startled me so I bumped into a couple on the right and nearly toppled them over. There I was-presumably on duty, working, and sore at her for being too damn stubborn to open up-and there I was deliberately smelling hair! That was a hell of a note. I steered her around to an edge, off the floor and back to the table, and sat her down and called for the check.

“Oh,” she said, “must we go?”

“Look here,” I told her, looking in her wide-open eyes, “you’re giving me a run-around. Maybe you did the same to Lily Rowan, or she did to me. Are you in trouble, or aren’t you?”

“Why, yes. Yes, Archie, I am.”

“What kind of trouble? A run in your stocking?”

“No, really. It’s-real trouble. Honestly.”

“But you’re not telling me about it?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Honestly I can’t. I mean-I don’t want to. You see, you are young and handsome. It’s something terrible-I don’t mean it’s terrible about me-it’s something terrible about someone.”

“Is it about the death of Miss Leeds’ mother?”

“It-” She stopped. Then she went on. “Yes, it is. But that’s all I’ll tell you. If you’re going to be like this-”

The waiter brought the change, and I took my share. Then I said, “Okay. The reason I’m like this, I caught myself smelling your hair. Not only that, for the last half-hour I’ve had a different attitude toward our dancing. You may have noticed it.”

“Yes, I-did.”

“Very well. I didn’t. Until just now. I admit it’s possible there is romance ahead of us. Or you may break my heart and ruin my life. Anything can happen. But not yet. What I want to know now is, what time do you quit work?”

She was smiling at me. “I leave the office at five o’clock.”

“And what, go home?”