Free In the Teeth of Adversity by Marian Babson Page B

Rennolds what she’s doing and let him take over.”
    I considered the choices briefly. “I’d rather try to stop her.” She was less formidable.
    â€œRight.” We left the waiting room and started up the stairs. There was no one in sight. I wondered vaguely where the receptionist had disappeared to, but thought she might have stepped out for a minute. It might even be her turn to be questioned by Inspector Rennolds.
    The coast was clear as we skimmed past the second-floor living quarters. The third floor hallway was also deserted; all the doors leading off it were tightly shut. We looked at each other and shrugged.
    â€œMight as well have a go,” Gerry said. “Knock and don’t wait for an answer – that’s the ticket.” He stepped up to the door of what, judging from the rooms below, must be the living room and knocked firmly. Equally firmly, he grasped the doorknob and turned it before the knock had finished echoing. Nothing happened.
    â€œDamn!” Gerry tried again. “Locked.”
    I moved across the hall and tried another door. It didn’t yield. By this time, I’d decided it was hopeless, but just in case, I tried the remaining doors.
    â€œIt’s no use,” I said. “They’re all locked. She’s in there, either having a quiet weep or destroying evidence. Either way, she doesn’t want company.”
    â€œShe may be doing both,” Gerry said brightly. “Never underestimate the ability of the female mind to travel along several tracks at the same time. It may be why some of them are such terrifying drivers.”
    â€œOf course” – I had another thought – “the place may have been locked up before she got here. She might not have been able to get in.”
    â€œHighly unlikely.” Gerry looked at me thoughtfully. “That just proves how old-fashioned you are. These days, a bird gets the latchkey long before the subject of a ring comes up. You don’t appreciate how forbearing I’ve had to be with my birds in order to spare your privacy. Some of them haven’t taken it at all well.”
    â€œI wouldn’t call the Honourable Edytha a bird.” I attacked the portion of his statement I considered most relevant at this moment.
    â€œMore like a horse, I agree,” Gerry said. “Not at all in the same class – no pun intended – as Adele. But unencumbered and there’s money there – very definitely, plenty of money. A calculating man could do worse. And I do begin to get the impression that Tyler Meredith was calculating, don’t you?”
    â€œThe thought had begun to cross my mind,” I admitted. “I’d also say he was fairly unscrupulous. You’d have to be to steal your partner’s wife under his own roof.”
    â€œIn the light of what we’re finding out,” Gerry said judiciously, “I wouldn’t say he was stealing her – just borrowing her.”
    I thought of saying that was worse, in a way, but decided I wouldn’t give him an opportunity to call me old-fashioned again.
    â€œMind you,” Gerry went on, “it may be six of one and half a dozen of the other. Who’s to say that Endicott Zayle’s intentions were strictly honourable towards his partner’s invention? There must be a terrific market for someone who can come up with a sensational new anaesthetic. An international market. We mustn’t allow loyalty to blind us to his possible faults just because he’s our client.”
    â€œDid we ever?” I murmured. But Gerry had a point. One which brought several interesting questions to mind: Why wasn’t Tyler Meredith administering his new anaesthetic himself in the test on Morgana Fane? Could it be because he hadn’t known that the anaesthetic was about to be tested? Had Endicott Zayle stolen or – considering fair was fair – “borrowed” a sample of the