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But Cousin Helen Nell, as Miss Rivers calls her has been pig-headed even with my mother. I am sure it is not Miss Rivers's fault. She is not that kind of girl." "Do you mind telling me the objectionable plan?" I asked.
Pierre, you can come with me to Rivers's; I'll run you home in my car when we're through." Gresham let himself out the front door; Pierre and Rand went out through the garage and got into Rand's car. "You have any idea, so far, about who could have killed Rivers?" the ex-Marine asked, as they coasted down the drive to the highway. "I haven't even the start of an idea," Rand said.
Rivers's civil answer, made Norman so hot, that he did not notice much in passing through a hall full of beautiful vases, stuffed birds, busts, etc., tastefully arranged, and he did not look up till they were entering a handsome dining-room, where a small square table was laid out for luncheon near a noble fire. The two ladies were there, and Mr. Rivers introduced them as his daughter and Mrs.
Meta was charmed with the idea, and though Ethel stuck out her shoulder-blades and poked out her head, and said she should look like the ugly duckling, she was clamorously reminded that the ugly duckling ended by being a swan, and promised that she should be allowed a bonnet of a reasonable size, trimmed with white, for Mr. Rivers's good taste could endure, as little as Dr.
Rivers would be seen together, at roadhouses and so on, at what they imagined was a safe distance from Rosemont, and it was said that when Rivers was away over night, Cecil was never seen to leave the Rivers place in the evenings. Might this be relevant to Rivers's sudden demise?" "It could be." Rand was keeping one eye on the hall door and the other on the head of the spiral stairway.
Only not a word of it was true; the pistols were made about twenty years ago." "Those wheel locks Fleming bought from Arnold Rivers?" Pierre asked. "God, wasn't that a crime! I'll bet Rivers bought himself a big drink when Lane Fleming was killed. Fleming was all set to hang Rivers's scalp in his wigwam.... But with Stephen, the history does count for something.
May coming out of the hospital, Blanche renewed the subject. She poured out the catalogue of Miss Rivers's purchases, making appealing attempts at looking under his spectacles into his eyes, and he perfectly understood the tenor of her song. "I have had a sight, too, of little maidens preparing Easter gifts," said he. "Have you, papa? What were they? Were they as nice as Miss Rivers's?"
It seems that Goode was Rivers's attorney, also, and had been involved with him in a number of dishonest transactions, although the connection had been kept secret." "That's a new angle, now," Rand said. "I suppose that he killed Rivers in order to prevent the latter from incriminating him. Why didn't Fred come to me with this?" he asked. "Eh?" Evidently Varcek hadn't thought of that.
And I can't seem to find anything around Rivers's place that looks as though it might have been stolen from the Fleming collection, either.... Oh, and that reminds me: If you have time this afternoon, I wonder if you'd come along with me to the Flemings' and see just what's missing.
Huh-unh; we went over Rivers's place with a fine-tooth comb, and questioned young Gillis about it, and we didn't get a thing. You sure those pistols went to Rivers?" "I'm not sure of anything at all," Rand replied, looking at his watch. "You going to be in, say in a couple of hours? I want to have a talk with you." "Sure. I'll be around all evening," McKenna assured him.
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