Double, Double

Wednesday — Thursday, April 12–20

Early on Wednesday afternoon, after a morning of coffee-nursing in the Hollis Coffee Shoppe, Record-reading, chair-warming in the lobby, haircutting in Joe Lupin’s chair in Luigi Marino’s Hollis Hotel Tonsorial Parlor, pavement-clumping through High Village — even book-hunting in the Carnegie Library on State Street; Dolores Aikin failed to recognize him from her sentrybox, and he was obscurely grateful — Ellery finally permitted himself a telephone call.

It was Rima who answered, and she sounded professional and secretive. Oh, yes, she was getting along just beautifully. Dr. Winship had been very helpful. He had spent an hour with her at the very beginning (over breakfast and later) explaining about the sterilizers and the routine with patients and so on, and then he had had to go to the hospital, but he’d found time to dash back well before office hours to take her over to the Square for a more appropriate office outfit than the Fifth Avenue suit; because of the diphtheria epidemic the Bon Ton was featuring nurses’ nylon uniforms and she’d felt almost like the real thing. They dried in three hours, you know, and didn’t have to be ironed... and, yes, flat-heeled white shoes and white stockings and... Ellery said something snide, about not recalling Gloria Pinkle, Miss Anderson’s predecessor, in such trained attire, or did the nylon uniform come with a plunging neckline, and did Winship pay for it? — but Rima laughed in his ear and said not to be silly, you paid for it, or rather I did with your money, which I’m going to start paying back next week, Dr. Winship had wanted to but I wouldn’t let him. How cosy, said Ellery, at which Rima stopped laughing and said coldly he needn’t be cynical, given half a chance people were human beings in the best sense, anxious to be friendly and even to extend themselves — even old Harry Toyfell had said an encouraging word this morning and Mrs. Fowler had given her the freedom of the icebox and shown her into the loveliest old-fashioned bedroom, ever so much nicer than the patriotic stereotypes at Upham House... in fact, she had learned a great deal today about life. Yes, said Ellery, no doubt you have, but have you learned—? But Rima, either because she was not alone or for some perverse female reason, refused to talk business and instead she said she wouldn’t have the least bit of trouble, except possibly with the typing, and Dr. Dodd was so nice, though she’d only seen him once before office hours, in the morning as he was leaving for the hospital, and... Dinner? Well, she’d try. Dr. Winship had mentioned... Anyway, her first day... And then the Pinkie girl had left things in such a mess, and she simply had to spend some extra time familiarizing herself with the filing system — “Yes, Dr. Winship! Goodbye, Ellery,” and Ellery was left holding the receiver.

He tried her again at 6:30. But when Essie Pingarn said Miss Anderson was eatin’ with Dr. Winship, Ellery said never mind, to tell her Uncle Ellery had called, and he hung up.

He waited in his room at the Hollis until almost 10 o’clock.

The next day was equally unsatisfactory. He could get nothing out of her over the phone beyond a certain tarnishing of tone, as if the glitter of newness had worn off and she did not quite know how to rub it shiny again. At 5:30 he was in Dr. Dodd’s house.

Rima was alone in the waiting room. She was tapping painfully away at the typewriter keys with a puffy forefinger. She looked ill.

“The mountain comes to Fatima. Anything wrong?”

She said quickly, “I couldn’t very well talk to you over the phone...”

“How’s it going, Rima?”

“The work? All right.”

“I don’t mean the work.” He did not bother to lower his voice; from where he was standing, he could see Harry Toyfell watering the front lawn, and Essie and Mrs. Fowler were arguing in the rear somewhere. The doctors’ offices were empty. “Found anything?”

“No.”

“Have you looked?”

“No!”

“I thought something of the sort was going on,” said Ellery. “Well, Rima, what do you suggest?”

“Ellery, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Sneak. Open drawers like a thief.”

Ellery said softly, “Anybody would think I was Fagin. Certainly I don’t have to go over the whole bloody works again. Have you overheard anything?”

“No...”

“Get anything out of Winship?”

She did not reply.

Ellery pursed his lips. “Rima, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”

“I’m sorry, Ellery.”

“I’m going back to New York.”

She was silent.

“This is the only course I can plot, and if you can’t follow it I’m helpless.” He took her hand. “I don’t blame you, Rima. It’s very hard. And I’ve been something of a brute. If you change your mind, wire me. Better still, phone. Give me a piece of paper... Here’s my phone number.”

She began to cry.

Ellery stood over her for a few moments, feeling angry and incompetent.

Then he tousled her hair as if she were a child and he went back to the Hollis and checked out.

He was back in Wrightsville at her summons a week later. As soon as he had dropped his suitcase in Room 835 at the Hollis he picked up the phone.

“Ellery.” She sounded cool and perfect, as if wrapped in a secret. Not at all the way she had sounded long distance.

“Shall I pick you up?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll meet you in the Square Grill at 7 o’clock.”

“All right.”

He was sampling Mike Polaris’s coffee when Rima walked in. He was surprised, although he told himself he shouldn’t have been. Of course she couldn’t live in that one suit. She was wearing a skirt made of burlap and a bolero of the same astounding material; the blouse was Lachine’s.

“It’s the latest thing,” she laughed, slipping onto the next stool. “Didn’t you know?”

“Burlap?”

“Al Hummel says it’s being featured by Vogue. Al’s Dress Shop, on Slocum, next door to Jeff Hernaberry’s Sporting Goods store. Five dollars down and the rest in weekly payments. I had to get a number of things. And by the way.” She laid a small envelope on the counter.

“What’s this?” Her hair was done differently, too. Lower Main Beauty Shop, no doubt.

“First installment on my debt.”

“Rima—”

“No.”

“All right.” He pocketed it and ordered two steaks. Then he said, “Well?”

“It isn’t much. I don’t know if it’s anything.” She was rummaging in her bag, but not as if she were looking for something. “I’ve been through the files.”

“MacCaby?”

“I couldn’t find anything wrong. Unless a gun—”

“Where?”

“In D’s office desk. I didn’t touch it.”

“Most doctors up here have them. How about personal stuff? Did you get a peek?”

“Yes, but there’s nothing there, I’m sure. He has a study at the rear of the house downstairs — I’ve even managed to look there. None of his drawers is locked.”

“Is there a safe in the study?”

“I don’t think so. Not one you can see, anyway.”

“Get anything out of K.W.?”

“Only that he’s worried about Dr. Dodd.”

“Why?”

“Because Dr. Dodd is so worried. Ken—” it came out easily — “Ken can’t put his finger on the cause. The physical symptoms, he says, are all those of a man on the verge of a nervous collapse. But Dr. Dodd won’t talk about it, gets very angry, says it’s just nerves and overwork. He won’t take a vacation or see a neurologist.”

But that’s of long standing, thought Ellery. Those twitches didn’t develop overnight. “It’s more than that, Rima.”

She knew what he meant. She was staring at the counter, twisting her fork. “Yes. I think it has something to do with that room on the top floor, though I didn’t tell Kenneth so.”

“Room on the top floor?”

“On the attic floor. Dr. Dodd won’t allow anyone in there. Not even Mrs. Fowler or Essie to clean up. He keeps it locked and there’s only one key. At the end of his watch chain.”

Ellery smiled. “Bluebeard?”

“I told you it was probably nothing.” Mike slammed the steaks down and Rima began to eat, slowly.

“Does he visit the room often?”

“Once a day.”

“Really? Every day?”

“Yes, in the mornings. It’s the first thing he does after he dresses. He unlocks the door, goes in, and locks it after him.”

“How long does he stay usually?”

“Sometimes only a few minutes, sometimes longer. It’s never very long, though. Then he comes out, locks the door, and goes downstairs to breakfast. Essie told me about it. So I watched.”

“Mrs. Fowler doesn’t know what’s in the room?”

“No.”

“Winship? Have you discussed it with him?”

“I couldn’t very well without explaining how I knew. And he’s never mentioned it. I don’t think he knows about it.”

They ate in silence.

Finally Ellery said, “And how are you coming along, Rima? Are you happy there?”

“Well, I miss the outdoors, but...” She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry I brought you out here for nothing. I didn’t know, Ellery. But you said—”

“It wasn’t for nothing.”

“You think it’s important?”

“Yes.”

“But what can it mean?”

“I don’t know. Rima, that room has to be inspected.”

She went quite pale. After a moment she said, “All right, I’ll try. But I don’t know how... and the key...”

“No,” said Ellery. “That’s my department.”