Free The So Blue Marble by Dorothy B. Hughes Page A

“There wouldn’t be no reason for him to be in your apartment Friday, would there? Before you came home?”
        “No. Not unless he brought a package. But I hadn’t sent any and there was none here.” She swirled in the chair as the bell rang.
        Tobin opened the door. David Montefierrow was smiling there.
        

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        “Griselda! I didn’t know you were busy.”
        He did know. Somehow he knew. He came purposely. And he looked handsome and gay, normal, in morning clothes. Of course, his inevitable stick.
        She was pleased to say, “David, this is Inspector Tobin. Sergeant Moore. David Montefierrow.”
        Tobin closed the door.
        David put his bowler, his gray gloves, his stick, his topcoat, on a chair. He came over and took her hand. “Police. Don’t tell me you’ve been shoplifting.” He laughed heartily.
        She took away her hand. “They have found Mr. Grain.”
        “No?” He was completely surprised. “The missing superintendent? Griselda told us last night how worried her char was.” He took Tobin’s place on the couch, lighted one of his special cigarettes and asked, “What was it? Amnesia? Or an accident?” He was politely curious, not very interested.
        Moore said, “The janitor found him. In the basement. Back of the trunk lockers.”
        David asked, “What had happened?”
        “Looks as if he plugged himself in the stomach.”
        Griselda leaned to the words. David was so at ease. “Really?”
        Tobin said, “Yeah. Gun was there on the floor. A thirty-eight, new one. Must have bought it purposely. Only his wife says he didn’t have any reason for suicide.”
        ”Better off than they’ve been in years,” Moore continued. “Good job, owners liked him, no debts, good health. No worry she knew of.”
        David asked with the right interest, “Does she think it was murder? Why would he be murdered?”
        Griselda wanted to scream, to have to sit here, listen to this, and to know. She stood. “I’m going to put some coffee on. I can’t go any longer without it. You’ll all have some.” She went into the kitchen cubby.
        She could hear Moore answer, “He didn’t have any money on him, no valuables, and nothing missing. Except that lucky piece.”
        Inspector Tobin said, “If it weren’t for finding that here-and there wasn’t much blood-it’d be open and shut suicide.”
        David spoke casually, “Of course, he dropped it here. Probably came in, say, to inspect a leak, or lights or something, whatever it is these supers do, and caught his chain. He wore it on his watch chain, the maid told Griselda. Probably didn’t even notice it was gone until later, and didn’t know where he’d lost it.”
        Griselda with the cups was in time to see his delighted smile, a little daring now.
        “Maybe that’s why he popped himself off, lost his lucky piece.”
        They all laughed. She didn’t. She set down the cups and went back for the coffee, the cream and sugar.
        They all drank coffee. It was friendly. When they had finished she said, “You’ll excuse me if I go dress. I’ve a lunch engagement at one, with Nesta Fahney.” She mentioned the name purposely to interest the police. The noon bells were ringing from St. Patrick’s. “If you’re finished with me.” She smiled at them.
        “Yes, indeed, Mrs.-Miss Satterlee,” Moore said. David asked, “Shall I drop you at Nesta’s hotel, Griselda?”
        She told him no. “I don’t want to keep you.”
        She thought the police were leaving. David also thought so. But they closed him out easily. Inspector Tobin told her, “You won’t mind if we look around.”
        “Naturally not.”
        She shut herself into the bedroom. She didn’t want the temptation of peeking at what they were about to do. She dressed quickly, she was late, the