The Museum Murder
Page 21
And now came a bustle at the front door; it was flung open, and the panting of motors was heard outside.
“I’ll have to take the girl,” said Lynch to Duddington. “I’m sorry.”
“But you’ll let her sister stay with her until Sheerness arranges the matter with the district attorney, I hope,” said Duddington.
“Absolutely,” said the man. “Depend on me for that.”
There was a quick movement of feet, prisoners, police and witnesses toward the door. Haviz sat down and lighted his pipe, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Duddington went into the office and called a cab; after that he got his own apartment and spoke to Turvy.
“Turvy,” he said, “I’m coming home, directly. Have my bath ready. And if there are any slices of cold beef, score them a little and rub that paste I told you of—French mustard, cayenne, and butter—into them. And I’d like a few mushrooms, Turvy, done in my usual way, with some lobster. And put a bottle of ale near the ice. Not on it, mind you; do not chill it too suddenly. Gradually does it, Turvy. Quite gently.”
THE END
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