Skulldoggery

5

Having culled the dreadful document without significant change to the meat of Brewster’s extractions, Flo had arrived at her apartment, dropped off by Uncle Homer and Aunt Madge, and was in the living room when Lester arrived later. Like Hester, she had abandoned her mournings at the earliest possible moment, and she was in the meticulous process of restoring to her finger and toe nails the scarlet enamel that she had removed in deference to the solemnity of Grandfather’s last rites. She was already beginning to feel somewhat more cheerful, buoyed by the gay color and her almost invincible conviction that everything was certain to come out well in the end, no matter how bad it might seem in the beginning.

“Hello, Lester, darling,” she said. “Have you been at Hester’s all this time?”

“Yes.” Lester sprawled in a chair and elevated his feet to a handy ottoman. “Junior was there with us.”

“Was Junior still there when you left?”

“No. He wanted to stay, but Hester threw him out. I dropped him at his place.”

“I’m relieved to hear it. Junior is a dear boy, but I don’t believe he is altogether reliable where Hester is concerned. He has a naughty mind.”

“Oh, well, Hester has a rather naughty mind herself, so far as that goes, but not where Junior is concerned. Anyhow, you needn’t worry about Hester. You had much better be worrying about me.”

“Darling, are you referring to those foolish little gambling debts? If so, you really have nothing to be concerned about. I talked with Willis Brewster about them, and he assured me that they are not legal obligations. Isn’t that nice? You don’t have to pay them at all.”

“Mother, you can’t imagine how happy you’ve made me. Grandfather had the same opinion, and I’ll tell him he was right just as soon as I see him.”

“Are you drunk, darling? Grandfather is dead.”

“That’s what I mean. But never mind that, Mother. Did you and Uncle Homer find anything in the will that Brewster had failed to extract?”

“Nothing that changed anything. Homer was simply wild, poor dear. It was such a dreadful disappointment after deliberately reading all those pages. We were both convinced after finishing, however, that Father was secretly crazy. There is simply no other tenable conclusion.”

“Whether he was or not, it would be pleasant to make some judge think so. Do you plan to contest the will?”

“We’re thinking about it. Brewster is the executor, of course, and is strictly against it. He declares that the will is perfectly valid and will hold up in any court. Homer called Brewster a fraud and a scoundrel, and Brewster threatened to sue Homer for defamation of character or something, and everything was rather confused and noisy when he finally left.”

“As executor, Brewster is, I’d think, in a strategic position. Do you think he could be corrupted?”

“I agree with Homer that he is already as corrupt as he could possibly be. Darling, what, precisely, do you have in mind?”

Lester raised his feet, pivoting on his stern in the chair, and draped his legs over one arm. This position brought Flo more directly into his line of vision, and he studied her indolently for a minute.

“Lester, darling,” she said, “you mustn’t look at your mother like that. It’s abnormal.”

“I was merely trying to put myself in old Brewster’s place.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because I wanted to see what Brewster sees, and feel what Brewster feels.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so devious, Lester. Please say directly what you mean.”

“Well, you are a damn good-looking woman, now that I’ve taken the trouble to verify it, and Brewster is a widower of some years’ standing. I’ll lay five to one that he’s ripe. I’ll even go so far as to say smitten and secretly eager.”

“Lester, you are a naughty, naughty boy. Your mind is as naughty as your Cousin Junior’s, I must say.”

“Naughtier, I should imagine. I’m superior to Junior in almost everything.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that your mother try to involve Willis Brewster in an intimate affair in order to influence him in some way?”

“Delicately put, Mother, and reasonably accurate.”

“It’s unthinkable. Other considerations aside, he is far too ugly for my taste.”

“Oh, I admit that he’s a cadaverous old devil, but that seems to me a petty consideration in a crisis like this. I have been assigned the task of working on Mrs. Crump, and I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t take on old Brewster.”

“What’s this about Mrs. Crump? Assigned by whom?”

“It was Hester’s idea. We plan to murder Senorita Fogarty by getting her run over in the traffic.”

“Really? How clever of Hester. Do you think it will work?”

“It all depends on getting Mrs. Crump to relax her custody. Frankly, I’m highly dubious.”

“Nevertheless, it is much more direct and ingenious than seducing Brewster.”

“You only think so because it is I instead of you who must make the sacrifice. If you are reluctant to fondle old Brewster, how do you think I feel about Mrs. Crump? Honestly, Mother, don’t you feel any obligation whatever to your children?”

“If Senorita Fogarty is murdered, I can’t see the necessity of bothering with Brewster. According to the terms of the will, we will then inherit.”

“It is better to have two irons in the fire than one. Mrs. Crump may be impregnable.”

“Well, I don’t want to seem selfish, darling. If the plan to murder Senorita Fogarty fails, I’ll see what can be done about Brewster. I promise.”

“I hope so. After a proper softening, it is entirely possible that old Brewster can be induced to swear on the Bible that Grandfather was mad as the Hatter.” Lester unfolded and stood up. “Do you happen to have any money that I could borrow?”

“Darling, I only have a little left from the last allowance Grandfather gave me. How much do you want?”

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask for a thousand?”

“Not in the least, darling.”

“In that case, I’ll take fifty.”

“I do wish you would try to be a little less extravagant. What do you need fifty dollars for?”

“I have a date with Pearl Perkins, if you must know.”

“Such an absurd name. Is it really her own? Is she trying to get into show business or something?”

“She is not trying to get into show business or something, and it’s her real name. Mother, I hope you’re not going to start interfering in my affairs just because you imagine you have me at a disadvantage for the time being.”

“For the time being, darling, we are all at a disadvantage. We will simply have to concede that. Don’t you have any money at all?”

“I have some, but I need some more. Pearl doesn’t like to economize. She’s been spoiled.”

“She may have to learn to like it, whether she wants to or not.”

“Fat chance. Pearl is very adjustable to changes in personnel, but not to working conditions. Her affections are strictly negotiable. Damn it, Mother, you can surely afford to give me fifty dollars to pay for a proper parting.”

“Oh, all right. You run along and get ready, and I’ll have the money for you when you leave.”

“That won’t be necessary. Just tell me where you’ve got it cached, and I’ll help myself.”

“No, no, darling. That wouldn’t do at all.”

“Why? Do you think I’d take something extra for my trouble?”

“We must be realistic, darling. You’ll have to admit that ever since you were a small boy you have shown a remarkable tendency toward thievery.”

“Well, it’s all innocent enough. It’s just that I have absolutely no resistance to temptation.”

Lester wandered off into his bedroom to prepare for Pearl Perkins, and in the meanwhile, after finishing the nails of the foot she was on, Flo went into her own bedroom and returned with fifty dollars. Putting the money on a coffee table, she sat down on the floor beside it and began on the nails of the foot remaining to be done. It was quite a long time, easily long enough to finish and have a small drink and part of a cigarette, before Lester reappeared in evening clothes. She was pridefully aware, as she always was, of his incredible good looks, a male version of Hester, and it was really a shame, she thought, that he was only clever at things that didn’t help much in the way of exploitation. If necessary, of course, he would marry a rich woman and get along comfortably, but the trouble with that, unfortunately, was that he was forever getting involved with someone like Pearl Perkins who wanted to marry a rich man.

“Is that the fifty?” he said.

“Yes, it is, darling, and you must be careful with it, for I’m not at all sure where any more is coming from.”

“I still think you might make it a hundred.”

“I might, darling, but I won’t, and so you had just as well stop urging me.”

“Oh, well.” He took the fifty, counted it, and tucked it away with however much he had to go with it. “Don’t forget about old Brewster. You promised.”

“I won’t forget,” she said, “but I don’t think it will come to anything disagreeable. I’m sure you will be successful in murdering Senorita Fogarty.”

After he was gone, she began to feel slightly depressed, and she smoked another cigarette, which didn’t help, and then had another drink, which also didn’t help, and then she got up and went into her bedroom and counted her money, and this was unfortunate, the least help of all, because there was so little of it. Having counted her money and put it away again, she lay down across her bed on her back and began deliberately to try to think of something cheerful, because it was essential to the stability of her character to be cheerful about something at all times, but now it was extremely difficult to think of anything except what a great problem it was to rear two children and assure them of all the advantages, especially when they were handicapped by a father who had only compounded the problem and a grandfather who had turned out, in the end, to be crazy. Fortunately for Hester and Lester, their father had at least the consideration to remove himself early by means of an automobile accident while under the influence, but this had not been, to be honest, unmitigated good fortune for Flo herself, for Waldo, her husband, had been charming and exciting, if nothing else, and he was very good at certain things that Flo sorely missed after the accident. This was not to say, of course, that she would have taken him back if it had been possible, for she wouldn’t have, even if it were, because life was so much simpler and more manageable without him, although at times somewhat duller.

It was just too bad that things had been spoiled. It had started out to be such a good day, too, what with Father having died and being buried and all. It was simply the worst kind of luck that Senorita Fogarty had turned up in the will to delay a proper settlement, but no one could be blamed for not anticipating it, except Father himself and old Brewster, for who would have dreamed that Father was in love with a Chihuahua? Now that things had developed as they had, of course, one would think that Homer would devise something effective to do, but all Homer could do was threaten to kill Crump and contest the will, both of which old Brewster would prevent if possible, and it had been left to Hester to make the only sensible suggestion, which was to murder Senorita Fogarty, by getting her run over in the traffic.

Hester was such a dear child. She was not only beautiful, but unexpectedly clever, and it gave Flo a feeling of warmth and pride just to think about her. It would surely be a comfort to talk with her this very minute, and Flo thinking so, sat up on the edge of her bed and picked up the telephone from a table and dialed Hester’s number. Hester’s telephone rang and rang and was not answered, which meant, of course, that Hester had gone out, or had been taken out, and Flo hung up and began to wonder if it might not be a good idea to go out somewhere herself. There was no place she could think of to go alone, though, and none of the several men she usually could rely on to take her places had made any arrangements for tonight because of an absurd notion that she wouldn’t care to go anywhere on the night of the day of Father’s funeral.

Stuck and resigned, she began to think positively that everything would be fine in the end, and pretty soon, because of the positive thinking, she began to feel much more cheerful and to hum a little tune under her breath.