The Chinese Doll полностью

She took it the hard way. The davenport was seven feet long. I picked her up off the floor and laid her on it; there was two feet of space to spare.

Stretched out that way she didn’t seem nearly so tall as before. I took off her shoes and loosened her blouse about the neck, and then went in search of the bathroom and a wash cloth.

It was between two bedrooms and it was a shock to me. The room was entirely out of keeping with the immaculate tidiness of the rest of the apartment. His shaving supplies were scattered aimlessly over the shelf-like rear section of the sink. I looked at his safety razor, at two rusty razor blades, a partly used tube of brushless shaving cream, a bottle of lotion, a stiptic pencil, some red mouth wash, and a cellophane-wrapped toothbrush.

On a glass shelf hanging just above the bathtub was a small can of false teeth powder, a dirty hair brush and comb, an extra roll of tissue, two thin slabs that were once bars of soap, a package of bath salts for men, and a scattering of large safety pins.

The tub itself had two successive rings five and six inches high and had also been used for an ash tray. The guy smoked cork-tipped cigarettes. Dirty towels were kicked into one corner of the room and the bath mat was a crumpled mess. Another heavy deposit of cigarette ashes and a thumbed copy of a wild west magazine were on the floor near the stool.

I found a cloth in a small cabinet beneath the basin and wet it with cold water. On the way back to Eleanor I walked through to the two bedrooms and made a circling route by way of the kitchen. Only the bathroom was mussed up. Neither bed had been slept in recently and nothing in the kitchen indicated current usage.

She came out of the faint slowly but quietly. I massaged her temples with my fingertips. She liked the effect of that and lay there for several minutes without moving.

“Why did you say that?” she asked weakly. Her breasts rose and fell evenly.

“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I should have been more tactful.”

“But why did you say it?”

“Because I think it is a fact.”

“But why, why?”

“That’s what I’m hoping you will tell me. That’s why I need the information I asked you for. You know so much more about her movements, her friends, than I could ever hope to find out. You know why she drove that car.”

Eleanor opened her eyes and looked up into my face. I kept on talking.

“By that I mean you know the real reason. The coroner discovered a part of it, and told the newspaper. But you and I both know she didn’t commit suicide; you and I both know she and Evans were in love, passionately so. I found plenty of paper evidence of that. Poems he had written to her.”

“Yes — she showed me those magazines.”

“What you know and I don’t is why she drove that car — in the face of that love and that other thing.”

Eleanor closed her eyes beneath my fingers and said very, very softly, “Because he deserted her.”

“Oh, no. Evans loved her.”

Eleanor shook her head gently. “He deserted her.”

“I can’t understand that.” And I truly couldn’t. Evans wasn’t that kind of a man. “I can’t believe a man can twist off his love so suddenly. Were... were you there when he told her?”

“He didn’t tell her. He wouldn’t face her. He sent his message through someone else.”

I said “Eleanor!” so sharply she jumped.

“What’s the matter?” Her eyes were wide, frightened.

“Eleanor, how do you know he sent such a message? How do you know he refused to face her himself?”

“He sent a note. Leonore told me it was in his handwriting. She couldn’t believe it herself. He asked for the return of the bracelet.”

“Was that all?”

“No. Leonore went to see... a mutual friend. A man who knew Evans well. This man confirmed it. He said that Evans had told him about... Leonore’s condition, had asked him to break off the affair for him. The man refused. He said he told Evans he would have to stand on his own feet. Until Leonore came to him he didn’t know Evans had sent the note instead.”

“And the car?”

“Leonore had a duplicate key. After... afterwards she was frightened and went back to this friend. He put her to bed and did something with the car. Leonore didn’t stay in bed. That evening she... she...”

“Went ice skating,” I finished for her. She nodded miserably and closed her eyes. Tears crept from beneath the lids.

“And now you say...”

“And now I say I think she was murdered. Eleanor, this mutual friend can be only one of two persons. I’ve met them both. He is either Ashley, the attorney...”

I paused to watch her. She held her lips tight and kept her eyes closed. After a moment she relaxed and said “No.”

“...or he is the other gentleman who sits behind a desk in a barn. No need to mention his name.”

This time she said nothing. She had not the courage to say yes, or the desire to lie to me.