Unicorn Trade by Anderson, Poul. Part three

“And you’re thinking of doing so?”

“Yes. Though I can’t really decide. It would be hard on us both, at best, and nearly unbearable if we fail again. But I do know that Bayard’s presence would make the thing absolutely impossible.” She clasped her purse with a desperate tightness. “And even if I decide not to try, if I get a divorce, the lies Bayard would tell—Please, Mr. Yamamura! Don’t make a bad matter worse!”

The detective struck match to tobacco and did not speak until he had the pipe going. “I’m

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sorry,” he said. “But I can’t decree that a father should not get in touch with his son. Even if I did resign from the case, he can hire someone else. And whatever happens, Bayard won’t stay away forever. Sooner or later you’ll have to face this problem. Won’t you?”

The bright head bent. “I’m sorry,” Yamamura said again.

She shook herself and jumped to1 her feet. “That’s all right,” she whispered. “I see your point. Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage. Thanks for your trouble.” He could scarcely rise before she was gone.

The doorbell jarred Yamamura to awareness. As he opened for the patrolman, the storm screamed at him. “Hi, Charlie,” he said in a mutter. “You didn’t have a useless trip. Wish to hell you had.”

Officer Moffat hung up his slicker. “Suicide?”

“Looks that way. Though—Well, come see for yourself.”

Moffat spoke little before he had examined what was in the living room. Then he said, “Joe told me this was a client of yours and he called you tonight. What’d he want?”

“I don’t know.” Yamamura felt free, now, to console himself with his pipe. “His words were so incoherent, and I was so fogged with sleep myself, that I can’t remember very well. Frankly, I’m just as glad.”

“That figures for a suicide. Also the Dear John letter. What makes you so doubtful?”

Yamamura bit hard on his pipestem. The bowl

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The Unicorn Trade

became a tiny campfire over which to huddle. “I can’t say. You know how it is when you’re having a dream, and something is gruesomely wrong but you can’t find out what, only feel that it is? That’s what this is like.”

He paused. “Of course,” he said, seeking rationality, “Cardynge and his wife told me stories which were somewhat inconsistent. She claimed to me he wanted her back; he denied it. But you know how big a liar anyone can become when his or her most personal affairs are touched on. Even if he spoke truth at the time, he could have changed his mind yesterday. In either case, he’d have gotten drunk when she refused in this note, and if it turned out to be an unhappy drunk he could have hit the absolute bottom of depression and killed himself.”

“Well,” Moffat said, “I’ll send for the squad.” He laid a handkerchief over the phone and put it to his ear. “Damn! Line must be down somewhere. I’ll have to use the car radio.”

Yamamura remained behind while the policeman grumbled his way back into the rain. His eyes rested on Cardynge’s face. It was so recently dead that a trace of expression lingered, but nothing he could read. As if Cardynge were trying to tell him something.… The thought came to Yamamura that this house was now more alive than its master, for it could still speak.

Impulsively, he went through the inner door and snapped on the light. Dining room, with a stiff, unused look; yes, the lonely man doubtless ate in the kitchen. Yamamura continued thither.

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That was a fair-sized place, in cheerful colors which now added to desolation. It was as neat as everything else. One plate, silverware, and coffee apparatus stood in the drainrack. They were dry, but a dishtowel hung slightly damp. Hm .. . Cardynge must have washed his things quite shortly before he mixed that dose. Something to do with his hands, no doubt, a last effort to fend off the misery that came flooding over him. Yamamura opened the garbage pail, saw a well-gnawed T-bone and the wrappers from packages of frozen peas and French fries. Proof, if any were needed, that Cardynge had eaten here, doubtless been here the whole time. The refrigerator held a good bit of food; one ice tray was partly empty. Yamamura went on to the bathroom and bedrooms without noticing anything special.

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