Ostrander Suspense

1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-3-8190-2248-7
Verlag: epubli
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 274 Seiten

'Young woman, well-bred, educated, stranger in city, and without relatives, desires situation as companion or social secretary with lady of established reputation and position. Good oral reader, pianist, quick and accurate household accountant, intelligent amanuensis, willing and obliging. Amount of salary optional. Address Miss Betty Shaw, 160 Wakefield Avenue.' The girl read the advertisement for the twentieth time, then dropped the newspaper upon the shabbily ornate center table with a shrug of impatience, a frown gathering between her level brows. The boarding house parlor was shrouded in gloom, and outside the window whirling snowflakes showed white against the deepening dusk. A little heap of torn envelopes and a card or two upon the mantel bore evidence that the naïve appeal had evoked response, yet it was with a hopeless gesture that the girl turned from them and began pacing the floor, her brooding eyes fixed as though they would pierce the shadows which crept about her.

Isabel Egenton Ostrander (1883-1924) was an American mystery writer of the early twentieth century who used her own name and the pseudonyms Robert Orr Chipperfield, David Fox, and Douglas Grant.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Ostrander, Isabel

Leseproben

CHAPTER I.

The Girl With the Scar.

"Young woman, well-bred, educated, stranger in city, and without relatives, desires situation as companion or social secretary with lady of established reputation and position. Good oral reader, pianist, quick and accurate household accountant, intelligent amanuensis, willing and obliging. Amount of salary optional. Address Miss Betty Shaw, 160 Wakefield Avenue."

The girl read the advertisement for the twentieth time, then dropped the newspaper upon the shabbily ornate center table with a shrug of impatience, a frown gathering between her level brows.

The boarding house parlor was shrouded in gloom, and outside the window whirling snowflakes showed white against the deepening dusk. A little heap of torn envelopes and a card or two upon the mantel bore evidence that the naïve appeal had evoked response, yet it was with a hopeless gesture that the girl turned from them and began pacing the floor, her brooding eyes fixed as though they would pierce the shadows which crept about her.

All at once she paused tense and alert with lifted chin and quickened breath. The throbbing purr of a motor had pulsed upon the stillness of the snow-enwrapped street, and halted with a dull grinding of brakes before the door.

She darted to the window and peered eagerly out between the dingy curtains. A massive limousine stood at the curb, its bulk looming blackly against the lesser darkness, with broad diagonal lines of white striping the lower body, and a rakish torpedo-shaped hood. It was just such a car as a person of somewhat bizarre taste and the wealth with which to gratify it might have chosen, yet had it been a veritable juggernaut its effect upon the girl could have been no more sinister. She recoiled from the window, her hands clenched, her breast heaving tumultuously, and shadowed as it was, her face seemed distorted into a mere mask of malevolent fury akin to triumph.

Then the small hands relaxed, and with a visible effort at control, she turned toward the door, as laggard feet shuffled along the passageway and a murmur of voices arose.

"'Nother lady to see you, Miss." A frowsy head appeared in the doorway and the girl advanced to meet the summons.

"Ask her to come in, please, Susan." Her voice was guilelessly soft and low. "No, wait, I must light the gas—"

But the servant had already disappeared and in her place stood a tall, commanding figure, swathed in furs and heavily veiled. For a moment the girl hesitated, then with a steady hand she struck a match and a flare of light streamed from the gas jet. In the full flow of its radiance, she turned and faced her visitor.

The woman in the doorway took a step forward and paused involuntarily, with a slight murmur of shocked surprise. The girl before her was slender and of quite a usual type, with soft brown hair and moderately large blue eyes, but a spreading blood-red scar with five curved streaks reaching out from it like an angry clutching hand covered her left cheek from brow to neck.

If the girl observed the other's momentary loss of poise she gave no sign. Her level brows were arched ingenuously, her expression childlike in its bland candor, but the smile which parted her lips did not reach her shadowed, inscrutable eyes.

"Won't you take this chair? You wished to see me regarding my advertisement for a position?"

The woman advanced and sank into the seat indicated, loosening her furs deliberately before she replied. The heavy veil still obliterated her features, but through its meshes her eyes glowed fixedly.

"Yes." She inclined her head slightly. "You are Miss Shaw?"

The girl nodded in turn.

"I have had no previous experience, but it has become necessary for me to earn my own living and I have not had any specialized training. I am quite alone in the world—"

The woman leaned suddenly forward.

"May I ask why you stated that in your advertisement, Miss Shaw? You are very young and doubtless inexperienced, but you must have realized that to announce yourself as alone and friendless would invite unsuitable and even dangerous response."

The girl glanced at the cards on the mantel and then back to her visitor in wide-eyed amazement.

"Why, no!" she exclaimed. "I wanted to make it clear that I could give no references except social ones from my own home town, and that my object was not so much a matter of salary as a home of refinement where I could feel safe and sheltered. It is dreadful to be adrift, with no one to take a personal interest, but back in Greenville there was nothing for me to do."

"Greenville?"

"In Iowa. My mother and I moved out there to live with an uncle of hers when my father died. I was a little girl then. Last year Uncle Will died, and six months ago, my mother." She glanced down at the simple black gown. "There is no one left belonging to me, and very little money, so I came back to the city where I was born to try to find a position. I have been here only a few days, but it is more difficult than I had thought. You are looking for a companion or secretary? I did not put it in the advertisement, but I am quite capable of taking charge of a household and managing servants. If—if you have children I can amuse them, too, they always take to me."

The woman's eyes searched the flushed, eager face but seemed to linger, repelled yet fascinated, on the sinister scar.

"You—er, you have had an accident?" she asked.

"Accident?" The girl repeated. Then with a smile of understanding quite free from bitterness she touched her cheek. "You mean—this? It is a birthmark and everyone around me is so accustomed to it that I scarcely ever think of it. It must be awfully unpleasant to strangers, though. I suppose it—it would be a drawback——"

Her tone was wistful, almost pleading, and she paused with a catch in her breath. There was a long minute of silence before her visitor spoke.

"Not unpleasant. It will merely be necessary, as you so sensibly say, for one to become accustomed to it. I am not sure that it is a disadvantage—" she caught herself up abruptly. "You spoke of social references from Greenville. You have friends there to whom I can write, if we come to an understanding? You realize that I, too, must be careful about whom I take into my household in so intimate a relationship as that of companion."

"Of course," the girl assented quickly. Then she hesitated. "You live here in the city?"

"On the North Drive. I am Mrs. Atterbury." The woman spoke as if the mere mention of her name sufficed to establish her status, and with a deliberate gesture she threw back her veil. The face revealed to the girl's frankly curious gaze was colorless, the thin, arched nose and firm, straight lines of her lips as immobile as if carved from marble. Only the eyes, sloe-black and glittering, gave a semblance of life to the flawless, masklike expression. The smooth, dark hair was coiled tightly about her head and brought low over the ears, but did not cover them sufficiently to conceal their peculiar formation. Small and delicately pink, they were lobeless and narrowed toward the top so sharply that the girl wondered if beneath the hair they might not be pointed, like a cat's.

As if intuitively aware of the other's scrutiny, the woman drew her furs more closely about her neck and spoke hurriedly.

"I forgot for a moment that you were a stranger here. My husband was one of the most prominent financiers in the city, but since his death I have lived very quietly, receiving only a few old friends quite informally. I am childless, and, like you, alone in the world." She paused, with a slight suggestion of a smile and the girl's intent gaze shifted and dropped. "My home is one which you would perhaps consider luxurious, but it needs a youthful presence. I want the companionship of a bright, cheerful young girl, gently reared, who can amuse and interest me, and assist in the occasional entertainment of my guests. Practically the only duty you would have would be to attend to my correspondence, which is large as I have financial interests and property all over the country. I would require your time unreservedly, however. That is why I prefer a stranger, with no affiliations to distract her. For such services I am willing to pay well, but there are certain conditions I should impose."

The girl had listened without a change of expression, but now she glanced up quickly.

"Mourning depresses me. Would you be willing to lay it aside and dress in colors, such colors as I choose for you?"

"Oh, yes. I thought of that, in any event."

"Do you speak any foreign language?"

The girl shook her head.

"There were no foreigners in Greenville but the Italian road builders."

"You are prepared to place yourself absolutely at my disposal? There will, of course, be hours when I will not need you, but I shall want you within call. Moreover, if I make you a member of my household I shall feel responsible for you. You must not attempt to go about the city alone without consulting me first. That is understood?"

The girl's eyes narrowed and for an instant her lips compressed, but she replied quietly:

"Of course. I appreciate the interest you take in me, Mrs. Atterbury, and I am grateful for it. I shall do my best to please you."

A few details followed.

"Then we will consider the matter settled." The women glanced at the jeweled watch on her wrist. "How long will it take you to pack?"

"You mean you wish me to go with you at once?" The girl's face had whitened until the scar stood out in cruel clarity upon her cheek. "I had thought of taking a few days to prepare—"

"Anything you need can be purchased...