THE SIMPLE ART OF MURDER by Raymond Chandler Copyright ...

"Henry," I said firmly, "there is only one thing to do. It is true that Ellen Macintosh spoke to me in confidence, and as she did not have
Mrs. Penruddock's express permission to tell me about the pearls, I suppose I should respect that confidence. But Ellen is now angry
with me and does not wish to speak to me, for the reason that I am drinking whiskey in considerable quantities, although my speech
and brain are still reasonably clear. This last is a very strange development and I think, in spite of everything, some close friend of the
family should be consulted. Preferably of course, a man, someone of large business experience, and in addition to that a man who
understands about jewels. There is such a man, Henry, and tomorrow morning I shall call upon him,"
"Geez," Henry said. "You coulda said all that in nine words, bo. Who is this guy?"
"His name is Mr. Lansing Gallemore, and he is president of the Gallemore Jewelry Company on Seventh Street. He is a very old
friend of Mrs. Penruddock--Ellen has often mentioned him--and is, in fact, the very man who procured for her the imitation pearls."
"But this guy will tip the bulls," Henry objected.
"I do not think so, Henry. I do not think he will do anything to embarrass Mrs. Penruddock in any way."
Henry shrugged. "Phonies are phonies," he said. "You can't make nothing else outa them. Not even no president of no jewlery store
can't."
"Nevertheless, there must be a reason why so large a sum is demanded, Henry. The only reason that occurs to me is blackmail
and, frankly, that is a little too much for me to handle alone, because I do not know enough about the background of the Penruddock
family."
"Okey," Henry said, sighing. "If that's your hunch, you better follow it, Walter. And I better breeze on home and flop so as to be in good
shape for the rough work, if any."
"You would not care to pass the night here, Henry?"
"Thanks, pal, but I'm O.K. back at the hotel. I'll just take this spare bottle of the tiger sweat to put me to sleep. I might happen to get a
call from the agency in the AM. and would have to brush my teeth and go after it. And I guess I better change my duds back to where I can
mix with the common people."
So saying he went into the bathroom and in a short time emerged wearing his own blue serge suite. I urged him to take my car, but
he said it would not be safe in his neighborhood. He did, however, consent to use the topcoat he had been wearing and, placing in it
carefully the unopened quart of whiskey, he shook me warmly by the hand.
"One moment, Henry," I said and took out my wallet. I extended a twenty-dollar bill to him.
"What's that in favor of?" he growled.
"You are temporarily out of employment, Henry, and you have done a noble piece of work this evening, puzzling as are the results.
You should be rewarded and I can well afford this small token."
"Well, thanks, pal," Henry said. "But it's just a loan." His voice was gruff with emotion. "Should I give you a buzz in the A.M.?
"By all means. And there is one thing more that has occurred to me. Would it not be advisable for you to change your hotel?
Suppose, through no fault of mine, the police learn of this theft. %Vould they not at least suspect you?"
"Hell, they'd bounce me up and down for hours," Henry said. "But what'll it get them? I ain't no ripe peach."
"It is for you to decide, of course, Henry."
"Yeah. Good night, pal, and don't have no nightmares."
He left me then and I felt suddenly very depressed and lonely. Henry's company had been very stimulating to me, in spite of his
rough way of talking. He was very much of a man. I poured myself a rather large drink of whiskey from the remaining bottle and drank it
quickly but gloomily.
The effect was such that I had an overmastering desire to speak to Ellen Macintosh at all costs. I went to the telephone and called
her number. After a long wait a sleepy maid answered. But Ellen, upon hearing my name, refused to come to the telephone. That
depressed me still further and I finished the rest of the whiskey almost without noticing what I was doing. I then lay down on the bed and
fell into fitful slumber.
SIX
The busy ringing of the telephone awoke me and I saw that the morning sunlight was streaming into the room. It was nine o'clock
and all the lamps were still burning. I arose feeling a little stiff and dissipated, for I was still wearing my dinner suit. But I am a healthy
man with very steady nerves and I did not feel as badly as I expected. I went to the telephone and answered it.
Henry's voice said: "How you feel, pal? I got a hangover like twelve Swedes."
"Not too badly, Henry."
"I got a call from the agency about a job. I better go down and take a gander at it. Should I drop around later?"
"Yes, Henry, by all means do that. By eleven o'clock I should be back from the errand about which I spoke to you last night."
"Any more calls from you know?"
"Not yet, Henry."
"Check. Abyssinia." He hung up and I took a cold shower and shaved and dressed. I donned a quiet brown business suit and had
some coffee sent up from the coffee shop downstairs. I also had the waiter remove the empty bottles from my apartment and gave him a
dollar for his trouble. After drinking two cups of black coffee I felt my own man once more and drove downtown to the Gallemore Jewelry
Company's large and brilliant store on West Seventh Street.
It was another bright, golden morning and it seemed that somehow things should adjust themselves on so pleasant a day.
Mr. Lansing Gallemore proved to be a little difficult to see, so that I was compelled to tell his secretary that it was a matter
concerning Mrs. Penruddock and of a confidential nature. Upon this message being carried in to him I was at once ushered into a long
paneled office, at the far end of which Mr. Gallemore stood behind a massive desk. He extended a thin pink hand to me.
"Mr. Gage? I don't believe we have met, have we?"
"No, Mr. Gallemore, I do not believe we have. I am the fiancé--or was until last night--of Miss Ellen Macintosh, who, as you probably
know, is Mrs. Penruddock's nurse. I am come to you upon a very delicate matter and it is necessary that I ask for your confidence before I
speak."
He was a man of perhaps seventy-five years of age, and very thin and tall and correct and well preserved. He had cold blue eyes but
a warming smile. He was attired youthfully enough in a gray flannel suit with a red carnation at his lapel.
"That is something I make it a rule never to promise, Mr. Gage," he said. "I think it is almost always a very unfair request. But if you
assure me the matter concerns Mrs. Penruddock and is really of a delicate and confidential nature, I will make an exception."
"It is indeed, Mr. Gallemore," I said, and thereupon told him the entire story, concealing nothing, not even the fact that I had
47