Rex Stout_Tecumseh Fox 02 Read Online Free PDF

room with a glance as Amy closed the door.
    “Sit on the sofa,” Amy invited her. “As you have discovered, it’s the only comfortable seat we have.”
    “Thanks,” Miss Bonner, standing, indicated with a nod the hat in the center of the table. “Is there someone here?”
    “Why—oh, the hat.” A swift glance had already told Amy that the bedroom door had been closed, all but a crack. She tried a little bubble of a laugh and it came out very well. “No, that’s just a souvenir.”
    “Instead of a scalp?” Miss Bonner smiled, not warmly, but nevertheless it was a smile. “Not Mr. Dickinson? Or is it?”
    “Oh, no, I haven’t got very far with him.”
    “I suppose not. He’s probably wary.” Miss Bonner sat on the sofa. “I only have a minute. I had to go downtown and stopped in. You didn’t phone at three o’clock to report.”
    “No, I—I’m sorry.” Amy sat on the chair. “I didn’t leave Mr. Dickinson until after three, and then I had an errand, and I thought I’d wait till I got home to phone—and on the way here, if you’ll believe it, I actually walked into a car and got knocked down, and that shook me up—”
    “Did you get hurt?”
    “Nothing to speak of. Only a bruised knee.”
    “I like to receive reports on schedule, Amy.”
    “Of course you do. I’m sorry. This is my first offense, Miss Bonner.”
    “I know it is. So I’ll overlook it. I’m taking you off of the Tingley case.”
    “Oh?” Amy gawked at her. “Taking me—” She stopped.
    “Yes. Your uncle phoned this morning and raised cain. Unluckily, his son—it seems he has a son—”
    Amy nodded. “My cousin Phil.”
    “Well, his son saw you at the theater the other evening with Mr. Cliff, and told him about it this morning, and when he phoned me and asked a question I had to answer it. He said he didn’t trust you and spoke slightingly of your moral standards, and so forth, and said he didn’t want you connected with his affairs.” Miss Bonner upturned her palms. “So that’s that, my dear. I must say, in view of your uncle’s manners, I’m not surprised you didn’t get along with him. For the present you can concentrate on Mr. Dickinson. Did you make any progress today?”
    “Nothing worth mentioning. He’s pretty hard to handle.” Amy shifted in her chair. “But I—about the Tingley case—I’m glad you’re taking me off. So that’s all right—but there’s something I wanted to tell you—not that I have any reason to suppose it was connected with the Tingley case, actually—but I just thought I should tell you that I saw you at Rusterman’s Bar Saturday with Mr. Cliff.”
    Miss Bonner’s alert eyes narrowed slightly. “You did?”
    Amy nodded. “I was there with Mr. Dickinson, and I saw you—not that it has any significance, of course, but—”
    “But what?”
    “I thought I ought to tell you.”
    “Why?”
    “Well—I had understood you to say that you didn’t know Mr. Cliff and had never seen him, and I thought—one thing I thought was that perhaps you didn’t know it was him, and I should tell you—”
    “I see,” said Miss Bonner, with ice suddenly in her voice. “I wondered what you were trying to get at on the phone this morning. Thank you for making it clear. You were trying to find out if I knew who I wasassociating with, so that if I didn’t you could tell me.” The ice in her voice got colder. “Since you thought you ought to tell me, why didn’t you do so?”
    “You mean this morning,” Amy muttered.
    “I mean this morning.”
    “Well, I—I
am
telling you—”
    “You’re floundering,” Miss Bonner gestured impatiently. “I told you, Amy, when I hired you, that the first requisite in the detective business is completely unadulterated trustworthiness. Most of the things a detective does are necessarily secret and confidential, and an operative whose reliability is in any degree open to suspicion is no longer of any value. I don’t know what you’re