CHAPTER   5.

THE LUNCHROOM SWARMED WITH customers. Smell of coffee rose, dish-clatter of the post-movie rush hour. Drowsy husbands and dreamy-eyed wives ate silently, looking back on the show. Fellows and their girls, the show forgotten, stepped into roles in their own small dramas.

Mandy picked at the paper doily.

Gene Noyes pushed his cup away. “Late,” he said. “Listen, Mandy, I’m going to take you home and dump you. You aren’t here, anyway. You’ve got your mind on something else and I can’t snap you out of it.”

“That’s so,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Let me in on it?”

She looked at his friendly face, his puzzled brown eyes, waiting for her to let him in. “Gene,” she said, “see if you can make any sense out of this. If a woman deliberately …”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Her fingernail took the scallops off the doily.

“Where were you tonight?” She looked up, startled. “Listen, Mandy, you know I’m kinda crazy about your mother. Whatever you were up to, it didn’t set so well with her. I’d think about that, if I were you.”

“Oh.” She put her hands to her temples. “I know. You don’t need to tell me.”

“O.K.,” he said. “I’m not scolding. I thought maybe you didn’t know, that’s all.”

She smiled at him. “Gene, tell me this. Suppose you saw a woman deliberately knock a jug of hot chocolate over onto a hard floor, so that it broke, and the chocolate had to be thrown away. What would you think?”

“Who was supposed to drink the stuff? Was she?”

“Not she. Somebody else.”

“I’d think she didn’t want the other guy to drink it.”

“But why not?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “it wouldn’t be good for him. Maybe he’s too fat already.”

“No.”

“Well, then, maybe she’s just mad at him. Wants to spoil his fun.”

“Childish …?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” said Mandy.

“O.K. Then maybe the stuff is poisoned.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Mandy.

“Then he’s a drug addict and takes his dope that way and she’s trying to cure him.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“Well?” He raised his brows at her. “What else is there? You saw something like that, Mandy? That’s what’s eating you?”

“I can’t understand it.”

“Who fixed the chocolate for him?”

“I don’t know.”

“If it was just plain chocolate, that’s one thing,” said Gene cheerfully. “And if not, then it’s something else again, hm?”

“Yes,” she said, “of course.”

“You’d have to start by finding that out. But if the stuff’s gone down the drain, you’re never going to find out. So why not skip it, Mandy?”

Mandy said slowly, “It’s not quite all gone.” He looked at the handkerchief she pulled out of her pocket, the stain that was revealed as she unrolled it.

“Magic of science, hm? And I’m a magician, too. I’m a chemist, you just remembered.”

“Could you, Gene?”

“Um … maybe.”

“Would you?”

He picked up the rag, looked at the stain, sniffed it. “What’ll you give me?” he grinned.

“Oh, Gene, please!”

“You’re pretty serious, Mandy.”

“It was so strange,” she said.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“O.K.,” he said. He put the handkerchief in his pocket.

“When, Gene?”

“In a hurry?”

“Well, I …”

“Frank Mitchell’s got a pretty nice little lab he lets me fool around.”

“Can’t you do it at Callahan’s tomorrow?”

“No.”

“When, Gene?”

“You want this, Mandy? O.K. Early in the morning.”

“I thank you,” said Amanda.

“So I’ll be up at the crack of dawn, and I don’t even know what I’m doing. That’s love, baby.”

“Nuh-uh. Science!” said Mandy, dimpling. The rest of his date was livelier, Gene felt.

But as Amanda took off the yellow suit at last in her own room, restored to her from Cousin Edna’s tenancy, she kept gnawing at that inexplicable incident. Thone’s room, Thone’s hot chocolate, for Thone to drink. If there had been anything wrong with it, then someone in that house was trying to harm him. Or, even if it was perfectly good plain chocolate, why did his stepmother think that he mustn’t drink it? Did she think someone in the house wanted to harm him? Who? Why?

There could be someone living there whom Amanda hadn’t seen. Maybe he even had a wife. Maybe that’s why he was so—so distant. She thought of those suitcases, that male room. No, if he had a wife she wasn’t with him. At least …

It’s none of my business, Amanda told herself. I’ll keep away. I won’t go back there any more. I can make a fool of myself once and no harm done. If I forget about it now, stop it, drop it …

She scolded herself to sleep at last.

Between classes the next morning, she telephoned. “Gene?”

“Hiya, Mandy. How’s it go?”

“Fine. Did you try to find out … what I wanted to know?”

“Oh, that. You know what was on that handkerchief, Mandy?”

“I’m asking you. You’re the genius.”

“By the way, I thought you were a lady. Call that a handkerchief?”

“I never said I was any lady.” Mandy kept her voice patient and grimaced with the effort. “Come on, Gene.”

“Hypnotic,” he said. “One of those patented barbiturates, probably.”

“But what is it?”

“Sleeping dope.”

“Oh.”

She heard him breathing in the interval. “Pretty stiff solution, Mandy,” he said warily.

“What would it do?”

“Wouldn’t do any good.”

“Do you mean, like poison?”

“Yup. Quite a lot like poison. Fact, it is poison.”

“Gene! Would it … is it enough to …?”

“Hell, I dunno,” he said irritably. “I’m no doctor. I’d say it was damn dangerous.” His voice faded, came back stronger. “What are you going to do, Mandy?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered.

“Maybe you oughta—”

“Where’s the handkerchief, Gene?”

“I left it in the lab.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Mandy, you keep away from whatever this is. Hear me? Why don’t you tell somebody the whole thing? Tell me the story and I’ll do something. Meet me for lunch, Mandy?”

“I—I don’t know. I …”

“At least you oughta tell the one who was meant to drink that stuff,” he said sternly. “Give him a chance. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but that way you’d be safer.”

“You’re sure, Gene?”

“Naturally.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to call you back.”

“See me tonight? Mandy …”

“Maybe. Thanks. Good-by … so long.…”

Poisoned! And he might have …! Oh, no! screamed Mandy soundlessly. No! She leaned on the wall of the booth. Students went by in the corridor, eleven-o’clock classes coming up, Easter vacation in the wind. They were walking in another world.

If it hadn’t been for a date with Gene last night, the thought of poison might have grazed her mind and disappeared again. She would have gone on wondering, but never known. Not as she knew now. She wouldn’t have this fact, like a boulder in the road. Couldn’t go around it. There it lay.

So what was there to do? You go to the police, she thought. That’s what you do. You tell them there was poison in a certain thermos jug in a certain house. They say, “How do you know?” You can show them how you know.

Then they say, “Who put it there?” You don’t know.

“Why?” You don’t know.

“Well, who got it?” Nobody got it. It was thrown away.

“Whatcha want us to do, lady?” Save him! Keep him!

“What’s it to you, lady?” I don’t know what it is to me, but he must not die!

Oh, no, that wasn’t any good, not that way. No, the thing to do is go to him. Tell him. Warn Thone himself to be careful. That’s much quicker, much better. That’s direct. That is all the police would do, anyhow.

She found the Garrison number in the book. The housekeeper’s voice said, “Hello.”

“Mr. Thone Garrison, please.” She didn’t know how she was going to say this.

“He isn’t in right now.”

“Oh.” She felt sick with disappointment. “When will he be back?”

“Not until late this afternoon. Can I give him a message?”

The wire sang. “No,” said Mandy sadly, “no message.”

She sagged against the wall. Then she pulled herself up and dialed the number again. “This is Amanda Garth,” she said briskly. “I want to speak to Mr. Tobias Garrison, please.”

“Mr. Garrison is busy just now.” The same mechanical voice. “Can I give him a message?”

“Please just ask him if Amanda Garth may come to see him today.” The line was empty for a minute or two and Mandy closed her eyes, walking in the square hall, stepping one step down.

“Mr. Garrison suggests tomorrow at two.”

“Not today?” she wailed. Then quickly, “All right, yes. That will be fine. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

She hung up, gnawed her thumb. Tomorrow. She snatched at the book again. No, Fanny wasn’t listed. But wait, she had been told … The Allwyn. She got it, asked for Miss Austin’s apartment.

Fanny said, “Yes?… Oh, yes, my dear?”

“May I come to see you?”

“Of course. When would you like to come?”

“Are you busy now?”

“Now?” Wonder at this urgency sung over the wire. Then Fanny said, “Why don’t you come and take lunch with me, Amanda? I have three or four important people here whom I will firmly get rid of.”

“Oh, thank you,” Amanda choked.

“You interest me,” said Fanny. “You come along.”