Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Fifty-Nine
A substantial middle-aged woman
in mauve silk was crossing the room toward us. Her pale blue eyes glinted with
anger, and there were hard lines about her mouth. She walked with grim purpose.
“Unless we do some fast talking,
out we go!” muttered Shep. “It’s Mrs. Furstenberg, all right.”
We stood our ground, knowing we
had been recognized as intruders. But before the woman could reach us, she was
stopped by a servant who spoke a few words in a tone too low for us to hear.
For the moment, Mrs. Furstenberg appeared to have forgotten about us as a new
problem presented itself.
“I can’t talk with anyone now,”
she said to the servant. “Tell them to come back later.”
“They insist on talking with you
now, Madam,” the servant replied, his voice rising. “Unless you see them, they
say they will look around for themselves.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Furstenberg drew
herself up sharply as if from a physical blow. “Where are they now?”
“In the library, Madam.”
I did not hear the woman’s reply,
but she turned and followed the servant.
“Saved by the bell,” mumbled
Shep. “Now, let’s get away from here before she comes back.”
We pushed through the throng and
reached a long hallway. Mrs. Furstenberg had disappeared, but as we drew near
an open door, we caught sight of her again. She stood just inside the library,
her back toward us, talking with two men who wore plain dark suits.
I drew back, fearing discovery,
but Shep pulled me along.
As we crept past the door, I
heard Mrs. Furstenberg say, “No, no, I tell you he isn’t here! Why should I try
to deceive you? We have nothing to hide. You are most inconsiderate to annoy me
at such a time!”
We did not stick around to hear
the reply. We reached an outside door and stepped down onto a flagstone terrace
which overlooked the garden at the rear of the grounds.
“Who were those men, do you
suppose?” I asked Shep.
“Plainclothes Officers is my
guess.”
“Government men?”
“Likely as not. I don’t believe the
local coppers would dare to bother her. Anyway, she’s got the wind up, and you
can tell she’s scared silly despite her back chat.”
“You know what I think they’re
after?”
“Well, if I had just one guess,”
Shep said, “I’d say they are after Mr. Furstenberg.”
“I agree with you there.”
“Sure, why else would they come
sleuthing around at a time like this? The answer is simple. Daughter gets
married. Papa wants to see his darling do it. Therefore, boys, we’ll spread a
net for Daddy, and he might plump right into it.”
“So that’s the way a G man’s mind
works?”
“But I would take it that
Furstenberg is no fool,” Shep went on. “If they have a ‘man wanted’ sign hung
on him, he would be too cagey to come around here today.”
We stood beside the stone
balustrade which bordered the terrace. Below us, the bright autumn foliage of
the gardens formed a colorful background for the playing fountains. A cool
breeze drifted in from the river and rattled a window awning just over our
heads.
“We’re in an exposed place here,”
Shep said. “Maybe we ought to find a hole somewhere.”
“We’ll never learn anything in a
hole,” I objected. “In fact, we’re not making much progress in running down any
sort of story. I do wish we could have heard more of that conversation.”
“And get thrown out on our
collective ear before we even have a chance to snap a picture of the blushing
bride!”
“Pictures! Pictures! That’s all
you photographers think about. How about poor little me and my story? After
all, you can’t bring out a paper full of nothing but pictures and cigarette
ads. You need a little news to go with it.”
“You like to work too fast. Right
now, the thing to do is to keep out of sight. I’m telling you, the minute Mrs.
Furstenberg finishes with those men she’ll be gunning for us.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to go
into hiding.”
“First, let’s mosey out into the
rose garden,” Shep proposed. “I’ll take a few shots, and then we’ll duck under
somewhere and wait until the ceremony starts.”
“That’s all very well for you,” I grumbled, “but I can’t write much of a story without talking to some member of the wedding party.”
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