The Golden Goose

The Golden Goose Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: The Golden Goose Read Online Free PDF
Author: Ellery Queen
“as I told you over the phone.”
    â€œSo you did,” piped Dr. Appleton nastily, “and it’s awfully queer. Slater’s keeling over like this, I mean. Are you sure he’s dead?”
    â€œEveryone keeps asking me that! Go see for yourself, Dr. Appleton. That’s why I called you. Aunt Lallie and Peet and Twig and my brother Brady are in the living room. Do you want them?”
    â€œGood God, no. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s relatives of dead patients. Who found Slater?”
    â€œI did.”
    â€œDid you touch him?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDid anyone?”
    â€œThe only other one who’s looked at Uncle Slater was my brother, who went upstairs after I came down. And I’m sure Brady didn’t get farther than the doorway. He’s one of those tough, rugged lads who faint at the sight of their own blood.”
    â€œYou’d better come along with me.”
    Prin dutifully followed Dr. Appleton upstairs to Uncle Slater’s room. Brady had left the door open, and the doctor went briskly in. Prin hesitated; she would much have preferred to stay in the hall. But she supposed Dr. Appleton needed her to answer questions or something, so she followed him into the bedroom. And there was Uncle Slater, lying on the floor exactly as she had left him, which for some reason was rather a shock. Dr. Appleton was just getting down on his knees. He rolled Uncle Slater over, felt the temple where Uncle Slater used to have a pulse, thumbed up Uncle Slater’s eyelids and peered, opened his black bag and took out his stethoscope and listened here and there; finally he got to his feet and stuck the stethoscope in his hip pocket, so that it hung down in a loop under his seat.
    â€œHe’s dead, all right.”
    â€œWell,” said Prin. “ That’s settled.”
    â€œAnd,” the doctor went on thoughtfully, “it’s damned odd.”
    â€œOdd?” Prin said. “What’s odd about it, Doctor? People—especially people Uncle Slater’s age—die all the time.”
    â€œNot for no apparent reason.”
    â€œWell, for goodness’ sake, Doctor, I’m no doctor and even I know that . His heart stopped.”
    â€œAgreed,” snapped the little old doctor. “I’ve never known a dead man whose heart kept on beating.”
    Prin blushed. “What I meant, Dr. Appleton, was that Uncle Slater must have had a heart attack.”
    â€œThat,” said Dr. Appleton in a very queer way, “is questionable.”
    â€œBut why?” Prin cried, bewildered.
    â€œBecause Slater O’Shea has come to my office for regular checkups every six months since he married Millie Quimby. I have a file on him a foot thick, including electrocardiograms. I last examined him no later than a week or ten days ago. He had a heart like a bull and the blood pressure of a young man. There’s never been the slightest indication of a coronary condition, incipient or otherwise.”
    â€œBut, but,” said Prin, “couldn’t he have had a heart attack, anyway? Or couldn’t there have been something wrong that you missed?”
    â€œPossible,” said Dr. Appleton frostily, “and no doubt it would be convenient to think so. But I don’t. There wasn’t a thing wrong with your Uncle Slater except a very slight kidney condition from his drinking.”
    â€œBut you’ve got to put something down on the death certificate, Doctor. What are you going to do?”
    â€œWhat I am going to do,” piped the little doctor, “is call the police.”
    He motioned her peremptorily to precede him, and Prin did so. She noticed that he removed the key from the room side of the door and moved the little doo-jigger by the knob into the lock position before he shut it. Then he tucked the key away in his vest pocket. Prin frowned. It seemed to her that Dr. Appleton was making a great
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