Meet Me at the Morgue Read Online Free PDF Page B

Which was fine for our case, of course. Fred wouldn’thave got off so easy if the man he killed had had friends and relatives bringing pressure.”
    “It’s a strange thing nobody claimed the body,” I said. “Wasn’t there any identification on it at all? No wallet? No driver’s license?”
    “Nothing like that. You’d think the guy deliberately wiped out his own identity.”
    “Did you see him?”
    “Yes, I took a look at him in the morgue.” Seifel’s gaze turned inward. “I’ve seen prettier sights. There wasn’t much left of his face. The fog-lamp smashed right into it as he fell. The pathologist said he died instantly. It was rather a shaking experience, I can tell you. I don’t do much work in that line, you know. Seems he was a young fellow, about my age.” His eyes sharpened again: “You don’t suppose there’s some connection between that accident and this?”
    “Miner’s in both. The things a man does are always connected in some way.”
    He raised his palm: “Let’s not get into philosophy. Afraid I have to shove off now, old man. I have a luncheon engagement and I’m half an hour late already. I’ll be in my office this afternoon.”
    “I’ll probably drop by.”
    “Do that.”
    He started out, but I detained him. “Johnson left the fifty thousand at the station newsstand?”
    “Of course. I was with him. That is, I stayed in my car.”
    “How did he happen to have so much money on hand?”
    “Abe keeps a large savings account. He still likes to take an occasional flyer in real estate. Now I really must run.”
    He waved his hand and trotted out, the pads on his shoulders flopping like clumsy wings. I went through the butler’s pantry, which was stocked as a bar, into the dining-room. The white refectory table was set for breakfast. Hamand eggs and toast lay cold and untouched on the plates. It was as if the three breakfasters had been annihilated by a natural cataclysm as they sat down to eat.
    Through the French windows that opened on the patio, a changing green light was thrown by the pool. I heard a murmur of voices and followed it outside. Ann and Mrs. Johnson were sitting in the green shade of an umbrella table at the end of the pool, conversing quietly over coffee cups.
    Ann looked up and saw that I was alone. Her face showed mingled relief and disappointment. But it was Helen Johnson who said, in some surprise: “Is Larry gone?”
    “He mentioned a luncheon engagement.”
    She frowned into her cup. “I do wish he’d stayed.” She added with an almost embarrassing candor: “One needs a man around at a time like this. Abel’s pretty much of a broken reed. Not that I blame him. It’s not his fault, dear man.” She remembered her manners suddenly. “Sit down, Mr. Cross. Let me pour you some coffee.”
    “Thank you.” I sat between them on a fishnet chair. “Is your husband all right?”
    “I think so. I persuaded him to take a sedative and get some rest. Mrs. Miner is making up his bed. If he survived the first awful shock of that ransom letter—he’ll survive anything. Still, I hate to be left alone with him.”
    “Won’t Mrs. Miner be within reach?”
    “Oh, yes. She’s a good soul. Unfortunately, Amy Miner depresses me. She’s what my husband calls a bleeding heart, I’m afraid. I’m talking like one myself.” She drew a hand slowly across her eyes. “I’m talking much too much. It’s the reaction. I oughtn’t to have stayed alone here this morning. We thought there might be a phone call from them, you see. I waited for one, and the waiting just about drove me crazy. The morning lasted for years. I could actually feel my hair turning gray. It hasn’t, though, has it?” She ran white fingersthrough her hair. “Somebody shut me up, please.”
    Ann said impulsively: “I’ll stay with you if you like.”
    “I would like, very much.” Helen Johnson reached for her hand across the table. “It’s sweet of you to offer. You’re sure I’m not