assigned territory."
I might not have been speaking, for all the impression my voice made on his
inexorable push towards his ultimate point. "And during the earthquake and
fire of 1906, some experience troubled a brave and loyal servant into a change
of heart towards his employer."
"Holmes, please, I really am too tired for
this."
"Within two months of that event, your father's will was given an addendum to
ensure that the house be left untouched by anyone other than family members
for a minimum of twenty years."
"So?" I demanded, driven to rudeness.
"And finally, your emotional turmoil over the unfinished nature of your
family's death has led to a series of disturbing dreams. "
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"Damn it, Holmes, I'm going to
bed."
"The evidence is clear, yet you refuse to see it, " he mused. "Fascinating."
"See what?" I finally couldn't bear it another moment, and blew up at him.
"Holmes, for Christ sake, I'm absolutely exhausted, I have bruises coming up
all along my shoulders and skull, and my head is pounding so hard I'm going to
have trouble seeing my face in the bath-room looking-glass, and you persist in
playing guessing games with me. Well, you'll just have to do it in my absence.
" I stood up and stalked into the bath-room, where I ran a high, hot bath and
immersed myself in it for a very long time. Holmes was asleep when I came out;
at any rate, he did not stir.
***
For the brief, dull, businesslike venture that I had expected of our trip to
San Francisco, it had already proved remarkably eventful. Even before we
arrived, dreams had been pounding at the door of my mind; in the three days
since the ship had docked on Monday morning, I had been arrested, confronted
with a bucket-load of oddities, seen the evidence of a house-breaking, met a
large slice of my past, been attacked on the street, and had a serious
argument with my husband.
But the deadly ambush laid for us Thursday as we walked in all innocence
across the hotel lobby reduced the rest to little more than specks of dust on
our way.
We'd had a pleasant breakfast or Holmes had, while I drank coffee and ate a
piece of toast while reading the newspapers. Holmes had the Call, I had the
Chronicle, working my way from NEW WOMAN IN POISON CASE and past an advert for
MJB coffee with two finger-prints accompanied by the statement "No two are
alike People differ in their coffee tastes as well as their thumb prints. " I
consulted Holmes, and we agreed that the prints in the advert were those of
fingers, not thumbs, so I went on to GAY GATHERING ON YERBA BUENA FOR SWIM
PARTY and RESCUED GIRL TELLS COURT BONDAGE STORY.
All in all, a satisfying day's headlines.
We drained our cups, dropped our table napkins beside our plates, and made our
way towards the lift.
The first volley of the ambush rang out across the dignified lobby, startling
every inhabitant and sending Holmes and me into immediate defensive posture.
The next shot fired hit home and froze me where I stood.
"Mary! It's Mary Russell, I'd never be wrong about that, you're the spitting
image of your father. When I read you were in town I "
I straightened: The previous night's argument notwithstanding, I had no wish
to inflict on Holmes a bullet aimed at me. I fixed him with one of those
glances married people develop in lieu of verbal communication in this case,
the urgent glare and slight tip of the head that said (to give its current
American colloquial), "Scram!"
Holmes faded away as no man over six feet tall ought to be able to do, leaving
me alone to face my attacker.
The top of her hat might have tucked under my chin, had I been foolish enough
to allow her that close. Its waving feathers and bristling bits of starched
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ribbon were ferociously up-to-date, her well-corseted figure was wrapped in an
incongruously youthful dress whose designer would have been outraged at the
sight (although it testified well to the tensile strength of the thread), and
her hair might at one time have been nearly the intense black it now was. Her
fingers sparkled with a miscellany of stones, and the mauve colour of her
sealskin coat came from no animal known to Nature. She was making for me with
both arms outstretched, and although she looked more likely to devour me than
to embrace me, I did the English thing and resisted mightily the impulse to
place the outstretched heel of one hand against her approaching forehead to
keep her at arm's length. Instead, I allowed her to seize my forearms and
smack her painted lips in the general direction of my jaw.
It appeared that I had a dear friend in San Francisco.
"Mary, Mary, why on earth did you never write? My, you've become so grown-up,
and so tall! Taller than your mother, even, and I thought she was a giraffe!
Oh, dear, you poor thing, whisked away from your friends and your home like
that I said to Florence you remember little Flo, your good friend? that
someone should just get on a train and go fetch you back. Imagine! Nothing but
a child,
and all alone in the world. "
"Er," I managed.
"And you've kept your blonde hair, like your dear father it never did darken
like your mother said it would, now did it? Do you rinse it in lemon, like I
told you to when you were twelve years old? It looks
a nice thick head of hair, too, although this fashion for men's haircuts is so
unfortunate."
"I'm terribly sorry, " I pushed out into the storm of words. "I'm not sure I
know who you are."
The sound she emitted laughter, I suppose was a string of seven notes
descending from a soprano's high shriek to a low sort of chortle. The gaiety
of it was somewhat undermined by the hurt expression in her eyes, but it was
hard to know how I might have posed the question any less bluntly.
"I'm Auntie Dee, dear child. Your mother's very best friend in all the world.
She used to bring you over
to my house so you could play dollies with my Flo. Although you usually ended
up in a tree or down the street with her brother Frankie's friends, " she
added reluctantly, as if the memory was a somewhat shameful one.
I had to admit, in a tree with the boys sounded more like me than dollies with
Flo. Although what my quiet, intelligent mother would have seen in this woman
was beyond me.
Still, I did what was required of me. "Auntie Dee, of course, how ever are
you, and dear Flo?"
During the course of the monologue that followed, I glimpsed Holmes coming out
of the lift, dressed for the day. Give him credit, he did raise a questioning
eyebrow in my direction. But there was little point in inflicting this female
person on him, so I gave him an imperceptible shake of the head and lowered my
eyes until I was gazing soulfully into my companion's face. The motion, or
perhaps the fact of her audience actually turning attention onto her, silenced
her for a moment, a gap I took advantage of.
"Er, Auntie Dee, I haven't had breakfast yet. Would you care to join me?" A
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lie, but casual interrogation of this woman might prove informative.
Again came the wince-making seven descending notes of laughter, and she
reached out to slap my hand playfully. "How silly of me, of course you're
standing here starving to death, when all the while I came [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]