Might as Well Be Dead

The chair I had offered was right beside him. He looked at the seat of it as if he suspected tacks, looked back at me, and sat. “Listen,” he said, “it’s not the way you make it sound. I told her I was coming to see you. It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s having it come out in a magazine. Haven’t I got a right to find out what’s going to be printed about my wife and a man she used to work for?”

“You certainly have, but she’s not your wife yet. When is the wedding?”

“Right away. We got the license today. Next week.”

“Congratulations. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Lesser. How long have you known her?”

“About a year. A little over. Now are you going to tell me what I asked?”

“I have no objection.” I crossed my legs and leaned back. “This may ease your mind a little, the fact that the magazine wouldn’t dream of printing anything Miss Brandt disapproved of, or anything her husband disapproved of. Invasion of privacy. And you’ve given me an idea. The article would be a lot better with some real love interest. You know what the slant is, the last ten months of a murder victim as seen by his secretary. Well, all the time she is working for him, and letting him take her out to dinner because she feels sorry for him, her heart is already in bond to another. She is deeply in love with a young man she intends to marry. That would make it a masterpiece-the contrast between the tragedy of the man who is going to die but doesn’t know it, and the blush and promise of young love. Huh?”

“I guess so. What did she tell you?”

“Don’t worry about that.” I waved it away. “When it’s written you and she can change anything you don’t like, or take it out. When were you engaged?”

“Well-it was understood quite a while ago.”

“Before the murder?”

“Formally engaged, no. Does that matter?”

“Maybe not. While she’s being sorry for Molloy she can either be promised to another or just hoping she soon will be. It would be swell if we could work in some reference, a sort of minor key, to the murderer. We could call him that, since he’s been convicted. Only I don’t suppose you knew Peter Hays.”

“No.”

“Did you know about him? Did you know he was in love with Mrs. Molloy?”

“No. I never heard of him until he was arrested.”

“It doesn’t really matter. I thought perhaps Miss Brandt had mentioned him to you. Of course Molloy told her about him.”

“How do you know he did? Did she say so?”