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"But you will admit that it would have a dreadful effect on Premix Foods," Goode argued. "It would probably prevent this merger from being consummated. Look here," he said urgently. "I don't know how much Gladys Fleming is paying you to rake all this up, but I'll gladly double her fee if you drop it and confine yourself to the matter of the collection."
Do nott you see that itt is ye Earthe that nourishes all living creatures ye waiter, ye fishes, & ye yus, and that corne & all other fruits come up, & that all things are nott soe contrary to us as that from above? Ye devils live in ye air & they took my son. When you see that ye Earthe is our Mother, then you will see that all things on itt are goode.
I will say this, though: It's probably worth a lot more than the ten thousand dollars Arnold Rivers has offered for it." That produced an unexpected effect. Goode straightened in his chair, gobbling in surprised indignation. "Arnold Rivers? Has he had the impudence to try to buy the collection?" he demanded. "Where did you hear that?" "From Mrs. Fleming.
"A great loss to all of us, sir. And so unexpected." He didn't seem averse to talking about it, and went on at some length. His story closely paralleled that of Gladys Fleming. "Mr. Varcek called the doctor immediately," he said. "Then Mr. Dunmore pointed out that the doctor would be obliged to notify either the coroner or the police, so he called Mr. Goode, the family solicitor.
Rand began to suspect that Goode might be just another such self-righteous, opinionated, egotistical windbag. Such men could be dangerous, were usually quite unscrupulous, and were almost always unpleasant to deal with. "Then why," the lawyer demanded, "did Mrs. Fleming employ you?" "Well, as you know," Rand began, "the Fleming pistol-collection, now the joint property of Mrs.
"I've got to go. If I'd thought you'd want for me to stay why, you said you was a-going by the early train!" "But the durned thing's got away on me," said Lin, smiling sweetly from the bed. "If I hadn't a-promised them " "Who?" "Sidney Ellis and Pete Goode. Why, you know them; you grubbed with them." "Shucks!" "We're a-going to have fun to-day." "Oh!"
Humphrey Goode must pull considerable weight around the courthouse, Rand surmised. "But you realize, that revolver's still loaded...." "Oh, that's not your worry. I'll draw the charges, or, better, fire them out. It stood one shot, it can stand the other five." "Well, would you mind if I called Mr. Goode on the phone?" Rand did, decidedly. However, he shook his head negligently.
Doctor Goebbels was doing it almost twenty years ago." "My God, is that true?" Nelda demanded. "You mean, he's been going around starting all these stories about Father committing suicide?" She turned on Goode like an enraged panther. "Why, you lying old son of a bitch!" she screamed at him. "Of course. He wants to start a selling run on Premix," Varcek explained to her.
That's all there is to it; Mrs. Fleming has retained me as a firearms-expert, in connection with the collection." Goode was looking at Rand as though the latter had just torn off a mask, revealing another and entirely different set of features underneath. The change seemed to be a welcome one, but he was evidently having trouble adjusting to it.
"Well, of course, nobody wants the responsibility of starting a panic, even a minor one, but people are talking, and it's hurting Premix on the market," Goode gloomed. "And now, people will hear of Mrs. Fleming's having retained you, and will assume, just as I did at first, that you are making some kind of an investigation. I hope you will make a prompt denial, if you hear any talk like that."
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