Going Out in Style Read Online Free

Whitaker said he and his friend were at the gallery until it closed, at ten o’clock. Then they went over to the bar in town, The Painted Man, for a drink or two. He drove Gretchen to her house and got home himself around twelve-thirty. He went into the house—
    “Was the door locked?” interrupted Janovy.
    Albert paused. Yes, yes, the door was locked, just like always. He used his key to get in.
    “Who else has a key to the house besides yourself, Dr. Whitaker?”
    Albert Whitaker looked baffled. Just his mother and his sister, he said. No one else that he knew of. Oh, and Mrs. MacGregor, of course.
    “She’s our combination housekeeper and cook. She’s been here for years. You’ll find her in the kitchen if you want to ask her about it.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Whitaker. Please go on. You were out for the evening with your friend.…”
    Oh, yes, said Albert Whitaker. It was a pattern, yousee … he and Gretchen always went out on Friday nights, had dinner, took in a show or a movie, then ended up the evening at The Painted Man. He usually got home at around twelve-thirty. Last night, as he was saying, he had opened the door just like always and gone in.
    At this point in the narrative he stopped abruptly and turned a delicate shade of green.
    “Thank you, Dr. Whitaker. You don’t have to tell us any more. Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind. Was anyone supposed to come by and see your mother last night? Anyone at all?”
    “No, not that I know of. You see, my mother was going into New York City last night, so naturally she hadn’t made any other plans.”
    “New York City,” Janovy said thoughtfully. “Why? Was she meeting someone?”
    “Yes, a young friend of hers. His name is Snooky Randolph. He comes in from time to time to stay with his sister, and always calls my mother to say hello. I must have his sister’s address around here somewhere … let me think.…” He gazed around him doubtfully. “Now I wonder where I could have put it …?”
    “What’s his sister’s name?”
    “It’s an unusual name,” Albert said helpfully. “Starts with an M, I think, or maybe an N. Sounds something like ‘Aztec.’ No, that’s not right … hmmmm … let me see now.…”
    It took several minutes of wild guesses and random word associations before Albert managed to dredge up the name. “Maya,” he said triumphantly. “Maya Woodruff.”
    “Thank you. Do you know where your mother and her friend were planning to meet downtown?”
    “No … no, I don’t. All I know is she got all dressed up to go out. She was so excited about the date … shehadn’t been to New York for such a long time.…” His voice trailed off.
    “Yes,” said Janovy briskly. “Once again, Dr. Whitaker, you’re sure you don’t know of anyone who might have come by here last night—perhaps just dropped by?”
    “Oh. No, I don’t. I was away all day, you see. You’ll have to ask Mrs. MacGregor about that. She would have been here until around six or six-thirty, I guess.”
    “Fine. One last question, then. Was the money your mother’s absolutely?”
    Oh, yes, Albert said. His father had made a fortune in pins, and had left everything to his mother.
    “Pins?”
    “Pins. Straight pins, safety pins, diaper pins—until they went out of fashion—all kinds of pins.”
    “None of the money was left to you or your sister?”
    Oh, no, Albert replied. His father had trusted his mother’s judgment implicitly on everything, including the distribution of his wealth. And his mother had not so much distributed as doled out her money in dribbles.
    “But it’s not the way it seems,” Albert said earnestly. He moved forward with an expansive gesture, and the brass lamp tottered on its base. “We’re not murderers. You don’t know us, that’s all. You’ll see when you meet my sister. It’s not the way it looks.”
    I’ll be the judge of that
, thought Janovy. Aloud he said, “Thank you very much, Dr.