CHAPTER XV

A TALK WITH HAZEL GRESHAM

Carroll tried to appear disinterested--strove to make his manner casual; jocular even. Evelyn was piecing the threads of circ.u.mstances together and the events surrounding the Warren murder were slowly clarifying in Carroll's brain.

But he knew that now, of all times, he must keep her from thinking that he had any particular interest in her chatter. She was completely off guard--and he knew that for his own interests, she must remain so.

So he a.s.sumed a bantering att.i.tude--he resorted to what she would have termed "kidding."

"Aren't you the observant young woman, though? Not a single thing escapes your eagle eye, does it?"

She pouted. "Oh! rag me if you want to. But I am _terribly_ noticing.

There ain't many things that happen which I don't get wise to."

"Not even vanishing suit-cases, eh?"

"No: not even that. It was funny about that, though. At first I thought maybe Sis was packing up to go meet Gerald in Nashville--but I figured out that it was bad enough to have to live with him here without chasing all over the country after him."

"You say that suit-case left the house after she packed it?"

"Sure pop."

"Who took it?"

"I don't know. Sis was out a couple of times that day--so I guess she did."

Carroll shrugged. "She was probably sending some of Mr. Lawrence's belongings to him in Nashville."

"Huh! There're some things even a great detective like you don't know.

Don't you suppose I noticed that the clothes she was packing in that suit-case were _hers_?"

"Really?"

"You bet your life, I noticed. You see," she grew suddenly confidential.

"There's a certain kind of perfume Sis uses--awful expensive. Roland Warren used to bring it to her. Well, I've been using it too--and Sis never did get wise. I only used it when she did--and when she smelled it, she didn't know that she was smelling what I had on. Well, it isn't likely she was sending that to Gerald, is it?"

"Hardly. But are you sure she packed it?"

"I'll say I am. I saw her do it. And then two days later I saw the bottle on her dressing table again--and so I just naturally looked to see if the suit-case was back and it surely was."

"But perhaps it never left the house?"

"Guess again, Mr. Carroll. I know--because just before I went to Hazel's I hunted all over for it, to get some of that extract myself. And the suit-case wasn't there. Believe me--it's _some_ perfume, too!"

"You say Mr. Warren gave it to her?"

"He sure did. That man wasn't any piker, believe me. It costs twelve dollars an _ounce_!"

"No?"

"Yeh--goodness knows how much a pound would cost. I used it all the time--I knew when he gave it to Sis he meant it for me--because, like I told you, he was simply crazy about me. Told me so dozens of times. Said he came to see me. It used to bore him terribly when he'd have to sit in the room and talk to Sis and Gerald."

"I fancy it did--" Carroll summoned a waiter--"A little baked Alaska for dessert?"

"Baked Alaska! Oh! boy! you sure spoke a mouthful that time. I'm simply _insane_ over it!"

She evidently had not exaggerated. She absorbed enough of the dessert to have satisfied two growing men. It did Carroll good to witness her frank enjoyment of his luncheon. She glanced at her wrist watch and rose hastily--

"Goodness me, I've simply _got_ to be going."

"Where?"

She made a wry face: "Hazel Gresham's. Honestly, women get queer when they grow up--get older than twenty. Hazel has been acting so _peculiarly_ lately--"

"That's natural, isn't it, Miss Rogers? Her fiance killed--"

"Oh! shucks! I don't mean that. That wouldn't be queer. But there's something else bothering her. And when I try to get her to tell me what it is, she gets right snippy and tells me to mind my own business. And I'll tell you right now, Mr. Carroll--if there's one person in the whole world who always minds their own business--and who doesn't pay the slightest attention to other peoples' affairs--that person is me. I started that a long time ago when I read something some one wrote in a book about how much happier folks could be if they never bothered with other folk's business--and it struck me as awfully logical. And so that's what I've always done. Don't you think I'm sensible?"

"I certainly do. Very sensible. And I'm sorry Miss Gresham isn't feeling well."

"Oh! she feels well enough. She's just acting nutty. And as for when your name is mentioned--O-o-oh!"

"_My_ name?" Carroll was genuinely surprised.

"Yes siree-bob! I started telling her all about what good friends you and I have gotten to be--and would you believe it! she jumped all over me--just like Sis did when I told her--and said I shouldn't a.s.sociate with professional detectives--and it was immoral--and all that sort of thing."

"Indeed?"

"You bet she did. It was scandalous! Of course I told her what a ducky you are--but she begged me not to go with you any more. I told her she was crazy--because I really don't think there's anything so very terrible about you--do you?"

"At least," smiled Carroll, "I won't eat you. But what you tell me about Miss Gresham is interesting. Why in the world should she be prejudiced against the man who is trying to locate the slayer of her fiance?"

"Ask me something easy. I reckon it's just like I said before: when a woman grows up--gets to be twenty--she gets mentally unbalanced--or something. Honestly, I haven't met a woman over nineteen years of age in the _longest_ time who didn't have a crazy streak in her somewhere.

Have you?"

"I'd hardly say that much--" They had crossed the hotel lobby, swung through the doors and were standing on the sidewalk unconsciously braced against the biting wind which shrieked around the corner and cut to the bone, giving the lie to the bright sunshine and its promise of warmth.

"Brrrr!" shivered Evelyn--and Carroll rose eagerly to the hint.

"I'd be delighted to ride you to Miss Gresham's in my car--"

"Would you? That'd be simply splendiferous! And I'd like Hazel to meet you--then she'd know that you're just a regular human being in spite of what everyone says."

During the drive to the Gresham home, which stood on the side of the mountain at the extreme southern end of the city--Evelyn did about a hundred and one per cent of the talking. She blithely discussed everything from the economic effect of the recent election to the campaign against one-piece bathing suits for women: indicating well-defined, if immature opinions on every subject. She informed him that she was delighted with suffrage and opposed to prohibition, that the League of Nations would be all right if only it was not so far away, that she was sincerely of the belief that straight lines would pa.s.s out within the year and the girl with the curvy figure have a chance again in the world, that fur coats were all the rage--and he ought to see her sister's--it was the _grandest_ in the city, that--she orated at length on any subject which occurred to her tireless mind; securing his dumb Okeh to her views--and liking him more and more with each pa.s.sing minute because he treated her seriously: like a full grown woman of twenty--or something.