Mrs Ware from New York was VERY rich, but she’s dead. Did she die of natural causes or not?

Friends, journalist, attorney, lieutenant, maid, major, butler and others.

What do you think that this people have in common?

See the human nature of these guys and what is their real objective. You will like this story!

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What Happened?

At the same hour, in his little office in the Recorder-Press Building, Mike Speedon was sweating over his column. Few could have guessed the labor that went into the shaping of those screwy paragraphs, apparently tossed off with so idle an air.

When he got stuck, Mike jumped up, took a turn between desk and door, and stretched to test his muscles. Hell of a job for a husky guy, he thought. Writing these footling japes! By rights I ought to have an ax to swing!

The telephone rang and he picked it up. A sweet, uncultivated voice came over the wire: "Is this Mr. Speedon?"

"In person," said Mike. "Who is it?"

"Adele."

Mike ran over a swarm of girls' faces in his mind, trying to fix the name to one of them. "Adele who?" he asked.

She snickered. "Just Adele. You know, at Mrs. Ware's. Have you forgotten?"

"Now I get you!" cried Mike. "Adele with the dimpled shoulders. So nice to bite!"

She snickered again. "Oh, you!... I'm serious now, Mr. Speedon. Is it worth a ten spot to you if I give you an important piece of information?"

"Depends upon its importance, darling."

"It's important all right." After a moment's hesitation she went on. "All right, I'll trust you. You wouldn't let a girl down ... Mrs. Ware has disappeared."

"Good God!" said Mike. "Disappeared? Where to?"

"If they knew where she was, she wouldn't be disappeared, would she? Nobody outside knows it yet. Mr. MacKelcan has just telephoned the police."

Mike had been a reporter before graduating to the features, and all his old instincts leaped into play. "Be there in fifteen minutes," he said. "You'll get your ten if you don't tell anybody else."

He ran to the city room and spoke low to Warner Bassett.

"Boy! what a chance!" said Warner. "Will you take care of it? Nobody else could get inside the place."

"I'll take care of it," said Mike, and ran on.

He took the subway, the quickest method of getting through town, and bettered his quarter of an hour by a minute or two. Cummings opened the door of the Ware apartment and Mike, seeing by the butler's forbidding expression that he was not going to be admitted, adjusted his tactics accordingly.

"'Morning, Cummings. Can I speak to Miss Radnor for a moment?"

"Certainly, Mr. Speedon." Cummings knocked on the door of the office, and opening it, announced: "Mr. Speedon." When Mike went in he closed the door.

Day Radnor rose from her desk blushing pinkly. In order to divert attention from it, she said quickly: "Mike Speedon! You shouldn't surprise a girl like this!"

"Why?" asked Mike. Day had a way of taking him back.

"It's not fair! So handsome and shining! You drop from the clouds like the Archangel Michael and my heart goes pit-a-pat!"

"Ahh," said Mike, "I wish you were a little less frank in your admiration. Then I might think there was something in it."

"I mean every word of it."

"You do not. You think I'm a heel."

The blush had faded and Day was herself again. She pushed the cigarette box toward Mike and seated herself at the desk. "Not a heel, darling, a phenomenon. Sipping honey from every flower. If I was a man that's the part I'd play too. That is, if, like you, I had what it takes."

Mike changed the subject. "I must say you appear to be taking the situation coolly."

"What situation?"

"I hear that Old Miss has disappeared. Didn't you know it?"

"No. Nobody in this house tells me anything... Anyhow, I don't believe it. You've been hoaxed."

"I don't think so — judging from Cummings' face."

"Then it's just some new publicity stunt."

"We'll see. Mind if I set the door open?"

"No. Are you afraid of me?"

"Absolutely."

Mike opened the door wide, and returning to his seat studied Day with mixed pleasure and exasperation. She had a distinguished profile. She used no make-up except lipstick and her light brown hair was drawn back in a loose twist. After all the chi-chi she had a tonic quality.

"What do you mean, nobody here tells you anything?" he asked.

...

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Mots clés : Sinfully Rich, Hulbert Footner, Friends, journalist, attorney, lieutenant, maid, major, butler, New York,