Free Gentleman Called by Dorothy Salisbury Davis

way, a new man, and then called: “Johanson…I wonder if you’d mind giving me a description again of the man you saw leaving her house that morning? It won’t take long.”
    “Sure,” Johanson said.
    Afterwards Tully made up his more mundane description from Johanson’s reaccounting of what his Jim-dandy walking doll looked like. It read:
    Height: not more than 5’ 8”, probably 5’ 6”
    Weight: 160-170
    Build: stocky
    Complexion: Ruddy. “Like well-fed Englishman”
    Hair: Uncertain. Blond probably. (possibly bald.)
    Mustache: English type. Blond, curly (Edwardian?)
    Glasses: Dark-rimmed. (which he took off to better see Sperling in window. Probably frequent gesture as common to people who see distances better without glasses)
    Clothes: Light gray hat, gray (herringbone?) topcoat. Dark suit. Carried black umbrella rolled up. (Brief case?)
    Peculiarities: Manner of walking, back on heels. Vital, lively step. (Of man of well being?) Very neat in appearance.
    Tully drove Johanson home himself. He went then to the funeral parlor from which Mrs. Sperling had been buried and picked up the names of those who had called to pay condolences and had signed “the book of sympathy.” There was not such a number of them and Tully resolved to see each of them himself. He might then come out with a picture of the victim.
    He expected to see a fairly complete roster of the deceased’s friends. Very few people made such calls without leaving a mark to show they had been there, even if a scented book of sympathy turned their stomachs. Within a couple of hours the witnesses began to appear at the District Attorney’s office in response to Tully’s calls.
    The first man he saw was Jefferson Tope, the minister who had given the message of departure, to put it in his words.
    “She was not always what I should call a church woman,” the Reverend Tope said. His parish church was on Lexington Avenue, a few blocks south of where Mrs. Sperling had lived. “But I’ve been wondering if there was not a kind of pattern in her attendance. For example, she had not been to church since August eleventh. I looked it up in her contribution record. A fairly generous woman. I mentioned that to the nieces at the funeral, by the way. They seemed to disagree, but then I should scarcely credit their views in such matters.”
    Tully could guess why: it would have fallen to the nieces to contribute to his ministry after the funeral. No doubt it was a meager benefice, and likely squabbled over in his presence. “Mrs. Sperling’s church attendance,” the detective said. “How long had she been going regular before September?”
    “Very nearly a year. But there’s the pattern part…some time in her rather spotty attendance before last year, she came to me and asked me what I would think of her marrying a divorced man. She was not really a very attractive woman, Mr. Tully, if I may be pardoned for speaking frankly of the dead. I mentioned that she was generous. I must temper that now to say that my own impression of her generosity was that she intended to buy something with every cent she gave, and I wonder now if she didn’t buy…friendship.”
    Tully could not help but observe the cleric’s thumbs. He supposed that until this case was closed he would examine the thumbs of every human being he encountered. The Reverend’s ran to curls. They resembled two question marks.
    “What about the divorced man?” the detective asked.
    “Well, you see, my first question to her was: does he have a family to support? ‘He does,’ she said. ‘I would help him.’ But I don’t think anything came of their romance. Very soon she was back at church as regular as Sunday.”
    “Did she mentioned the name of the man?”
    “No. I suggested that she bring him to see me. She promised that she would. Naturally I didn’t mention it when she didn’t.”
    “I’m not sure I see the pattern,” Tully said.
    “Mrs. Sperling’s whole attendance has been a