THE GLASS KEY by Dashiell Hammett

“Couldn’t tell by what’s in the place?”

Jack shook his head. “No. There’s not much woman stuff there–just a kimono and toilet things and pajamas and stuff like that.”

“Much of his stuff there?”

“Oh, a suit and a pair of shoes and some underwear and pajamas and socks and so on.”

“Any hats?”

Jack smiled. “No hats,” he said.

Ned Beaumont got up and went to the window. Outside darkness was almost complete. A dozen raindrops clung to the glass and as many more struck it lightly while Ned Beaumont stood there. He turned to face Jack again. “Thanks a lot, Jack,” he said slowly. His eves were focused on Jack’s face in a dully absent-minded stare. “I think maybe I’ll have another job for you soon–maybe tonight. I’ll give you a ring.”

Jack said, “Right,” and rose and went out.

Ned Beaumont went to the closet for his clothes, carried them into the bathroom, and put them on. When he came out a nurse was in his room, a tall full-bodied woman with a shiny pale face.

“Why, you’re dressed!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I’ve got to go out.”

Alarm joined astonishment in her mien. “But you can’t, Mr. Beaumont,” she protested. “It’s night and it’s beginning to rain and Doctor Tait would–”

“I know, I know,” he said impatiently, and went around her to the door.

VI.

The Observer

1

Mrs. Madvig opened her front door. “Ned!” she cried, “are you crazy? Running around on a night like this, and you just out of the hospital.”

“The taxi didn’t leak,” he said, but his grin lacked virility. “Paul in?”

“He went out not more than half an hour ago, I think to the Club. But come in, come in.”

“Opal home?” he asked as he shut the door and followed her down the hall.

“No. She’s been off somewhere since morning.”

Ned Beaumont halted in the living-room doorway. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I’ll run on down to the Club and see Paul there.” His voice was not quite steady.

The old woman turned quickly towards him. “You’ll do no such thing,” she said in a scolding voice. “Look at you, you’re just about to have a chill. You’ll sit right down there by the fire and let me get von something hot to drink.”

“Can’t, Mom,” he told her. “I’ve got to go places.”

Her blue eyes wherein age did not show became bright and keen. “When did you leave the hospital?” she demanded.

“Just now.”

She put her lips together hard, then opened them a little to say accusingly: “You walked out.” A shadow disturbed the clear blueness of her eves. She came close to Ned Beaumont and held her face close to his: she was nearly as tall as he. Her voice was harsh now as if coming from a parched throat. “Is it something about Paul?” The shadow in her eyes became recognizable as fear. “And Opal?”

His voice was barely audible. “It’s something I’ve got to see them about.”

She touched one of his cheeks somewhat timidly with bony fingers. “You’re a good boy, Ned,” she said.

He put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, Mom. None of it’s bad as it could be. Only–if Opal comes home make her stay–if you can.”

“Is it anything you can tell me, Ned?” she asked.

“Not now and–well–it might be just as well not to let either of them know you think anything’s wrong.”

2

Ned Beaumont walked five blocks through the rain to a drug-store. He used a telephone there first to order a taxicab and then to call two numbers and ask for Mr. Mathews. He did not get Mr. Mathews on the wire.

He called another number and asked for Mr. Rumsen. A moment later he was saying: “‘Lo, Jack, this is Ned Beaumont. Busy? . . . Fine. Here it is. I want to know if the girl we were talking about went to see Mathews of the Observer today and what she did afterwards, if she did.

That’s right, Hal Mathews. I tried to get him by phone, there and home, but no luck. . . . Well, on the quiet if you can, but get it and get it quick. . . . No, I’m out of the hospital. I’ll be home waiting. You know my number. . . . Yes, Jack. Fine, thanks, and ring me as often as you can. . . . ‘By.”

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