Even the Butler Was Poor Read Online Free PDF Page A

ceased burning and was now only smoldering. "You say Rick Dell wasn't involved in drug dealing."
    "That's one of the few things about him I'm sure of." Leaving his chair, she knelt in front of the fireplace.
    "The thing is, it has to be something that involves more than just a few thousand dollars. Prowlers who drive around in expensive imported cars don't bother with paltry sums."
    "I know what you're getting at, Ben, but it doesn't have to be something illegal." She slid the firescreen aside, and added fresh kindling under the logs.
    "I think it does," he persisted. "Dell was bragging about big money coming in, but he sure wasn't on the brink of having his own HBO comedy special or starring in a television sitcom." Ben held up his left hand, fingers spread wide. "Which leaves, my dear Watson, the following possibilities for—"
    "Don't do your Basil Rathbone voice just now."
    "Oops, sorry. Didn't realize I'd slipped into that." Clearing his throat, he continued. "We'll list some of the other obvious possibilities. One, Dell swiped something from somebody. Something fairly valuable and relative small. Could be gems, cash, gold, bonds and so on. Two, he has some incriminating evidence against someone. That could be in the form of letters diaries, audio cassettes, video tapes, photographs. Three, he—"
    "Ben, it could really just be something as innocent as gambling winnings." She touched a match to the rebuilt fire. "Or family money he'd come into somehow."
    "Was he a gambler?"
    "Sure, that's how the loan sharks got him on their client list in the first place." Giving a nod of satisfaction as the fire commenced blazing, she returned to her chair.
    "A gambler who loses all the time isn't likely to have a satchel full of money lying around."
    "It only takes one big win to wipe out a lot of—"
    "Sure, that's what most gamblers think, but it ain't necessarily true, daughter."
    "Gabby Hayes."
    "Right, used to be one of your favorites." He stood up and resumed his own voice. "You have got to accept the fact that this loot you're so anxious to track down is a by-product of something crooked."
    She sighed and let herself slump in the chair. "Well, maybe you're right," she admitted. "I'll go over to Long Island tomorrow, though, since I do want to satisfy myself about what's hidden in Buggsy's hollow leg. There's no reason, however, for your coming along. I brought this on myself and you needn't get further tangled up in it."
    "I already promised I'd go to the old actors home with you," he reminded her. "Once we find out the dummy's secret, we go to the cops. Agreed?"
    She looked up at him, a bit sadly. Nodding, she answered, "Yes, you're absolutely right. That's the smartest course of action, Ben."
    He got up, yawned once. "Want a cup of cocoa before turning in?"
    "Nothing, thanks." She got to her feet, stretching. "Been a very rough day. Which room is mine?"
    "If you'll just walk this way, mum," he invited, shifting into his sinister Karloff butler voice.
    "It's going to be strange," she commented as she followed him up the staircase. "Sleeping under the same roof with you again, but in a separate bed."
    Stopping, he glanced over his shoulder. "Right now, H.J., I think that's the best idea."
    "Separate but equal," she said, smiling. "Yes, that is best."
    He hesitated a few seconds before resuming his ascent.

Chapter 5
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    B en was awake the next morning and still entirely alone in his big brass bed, when the phone on his nightstand started ringing. He hadn't slept especially well, mostly because he'd had the suspicion that H.J. was going to wander in during the night with an excuse for leaving her room down the hall and sharing his bed. That hadn't happened, but he wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
    She was as attractive as ever to him—at least physically. But starting up a relationship with her again was about as wise as having a couple of martinis on your way home from an AA meeting.
    He answered the