Unexpected Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

o’clock.”
    Gamadge groaned. “Who found him?”
    â€œOne of the gypsies from the camp down in the grove. Kid named Stanley. He was out on the beach early, about seven, picking up driftwood and jelly seaweed before the beach cleaners got around. The body had a typewritten name and address pinned inside the coat; case of accidents.”
    â€œOf course. So somebody telephoned here?”
    â€œThey got hold of Mr. Sanderson—he’s a feller came with the Cowden party. He went and got the Barclays—they’re some relation of the feller that got killed. The sheriff sent a detective over, and he’s grilling Sam Leavitt.”
    â€œI didn’t know the sheriff had a detective.”
    â€œSome friend of his; state detective, or something. He wants to see you, Mr. Gamadge; that’s how I remembered about your call.”
    â€œThanks very much.” Gamadge swung the other leg to the floor. “Where is he?”
    â€œRoom 17—that’s the room the Cowden feller had.”
    â€œYou tell him I’ll be there as soon as I’ve had a swallow of coffee. Tell him I want to be grilled, too.”
    Waldo rushed away. Gamadge had a quick bath, pulled on his clothes, and went down to the dining-room. At 9:40 he knocked at the door of Number 17.
    â€œCome in,” said a mild, slow voice. Gamadge entered, closed the door behind him, and looked down into the square face of a grey, stocky man who sat in a hard rocking chair. He wore a business suit, waistcoat and all, and black, shiny shoes. Sam was perched on a hard chair opposite him. He looked puzzled and upset, and he evidently needed sleep; otherwise, his grilling did not seem to have had serious effects on him.
    â€œMr. Gamadge,” he exclaimed, “ain’t this awful?”
    â€œYes, it is.”
    â€œYou just missed him. If you’d seen him, you might have felt the way I did, and gone after him, or something.”
    â€œI might have.” He nodded to the grey man, who nodded in return. “I’m Mitchell,” he said.
    â€œHow do you do?” Gamadge’s eyes wandered around the small, neat room, which showed no signs of occupancy except a dressing gown and a pair of pyjamas lying on the bed, a closed suitcase on the floor, and a closed pigskin dressing case on the table. “Did they pull you out of bed, Sam?” he asked.
    â€œNo; I hadn’t gone to bed. I don’t get relieved till 7:30.”
    â€œFirst-class witness, Leavitt is,” said Mitchell. “Mr. Gamadge: What about this cocoa?”
    â€œCocoa.” Gamadge’s eyes roved about the room again, and came back to Mitchell. “Cocoa?” he asked, with polite blankness.
    â€œSam Leavitt tells me the deceased had cocoa at Colonel Barclay’s cottage last night, and was sick afterwards.”
    â€œMis’ Cowden said so. She said he was sick coming up here in the car, an’ it must have been the cocoa.”
    â€œI remember, now. Young Cowden and his sister had cocoa. The rest of us were accommodated with whisky.”
    â€œHis sister had some, did she?” Mitchell looked at Sam. “Did it disagree with her, too?”
    â€œNot as far as I could see. She was spry enough. Grabbed her little suitcase, jumped out of the car, and skipped right up the steps and into the lobby. She wasn’t sick.”
    â€œHow’d the boy act? Didn’t seem to be in pain, or anything?”
    â€œHe was fine, once the other feller got him out of the car. I thought first he was kind of weak, and I whistled Kimball up from the garage, so the feller wouldn’t have to leave him. But afterwards you wouldn’t have known he was sick, if it hadn’t been for his colour, and his hard breathin’. He come over to the desk, and looked up at the clock, and started jokin’ about it bein’ his birthday. Lively as anybody.”
    â€œWell, thanks, Sam. That’s all for