If Death Ever Slept

I looked down at her. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can help with?”

“No, thank you.” She shook her head and her little oval face came up. Then she left the chair. “Do you mind? But of course you don’t-only I don’t want to be rude. I want to think something over.”

I said something polite and she went. Eber had closed the door behind him and I opened it for her. She made for the rear and turned a corner, and in a moment I heard the elevator. With that settled, that she hadn’t set out after Eber, I turned on the radio and got the tail end of the newscast.

That was the new acquaintance. The only other contribution that Wednesday made worth mentioning came six hours later, and though, as I said, it got me no further along, it did add a new element to the situation. Before reporting it I should also mention my brief exchange with Wyman. I was in the lounge with a magazine when he appeared, stepped out to the terrace, came back in, and approached.

“You’re not overworked, are you?” he asked.

There are several possible ways of asking that, running from the sneer to the brotherly smile. His was about in the middle. I might have replied, “Neither are you,” but didn’t. He was too skinny, and too handicapped by his tight little ears and thin straight nose, to make a good target, and besides, he thought he was trying. He had produced two shows on Broadway, and while one had folded after three days, the other had run nearly a month. Also his father had told me that in spite of the venomous influence of the snake he was still trying to teach him the technique of making money grow.

So I humored him. “No,” I said.

The creases in his brow deepened. “You’re not very talkative, either.”

“You’re wrong there. When I get started I can talk your head off. For example. An hour ago I went into the studio to catch the newscast, and a man was there speaking with your wife, and she introduced me to him. It was Jim Eber. I’m wondering if he’s trying to get his job back, and if so, whether he’ll succeed. I left a good job to come here, and I don’t want to find myself out on a limb. I don’t want to ask your wife about it, and I’d appreciate it if you would ask her and let me know.”

His lips had tightened, and he had become aware of it and had loosened them. “When was this? An hour ago?”

“Right. Just before noon.”

“Were they talking about the-uh, about the job?”