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    The Richest Widow
    The Richest Widow
    The Richest Widow
    Ebook64 pages55 minutes

    The Richest Widow

    By Hulbert Footner

    ()

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    About this ebook

    After a minimal education in Canada, Footner emigrated to New York in 1898 and worked at a variety of jobs, including an unsuccessful stint as an actor. He turned to journalism and worked for a time as a freelancer, contributing articles to periodicals such as Field and Stream. His first works were primarily travelogues of various river trips in Canada and the U.S., although he did produce some adventure novels. He is also credited with introducing the first American female investigator in Madame Storey. So we are introduced to the fascinating Madame Rosika Storey, fearless and intelligent, who plays cat-and-mouse with killers, goes undercover to break up criminal gangs, and unravels deadly mysteries.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKtoczyta.pl
    Release dateOct 22, 2017
    ISBN9788381360708
    The Richest Widow

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      Book preview

      The Richest Widow - Hulbert Footner

      Hulbert Footner

      The Richest Widow

      Warsaw 2017

      Contents

      I. SCHEMING VULTURES

      II. DOUBLE MURDER?

      III. SECRET OF THE SEA

      IV. NEARLY FATAL PLUNGE

      V. UNPLEASANT SURPRISE

      I. SCHEMING VULTURES

      After all the excitement and distress of the Cold Trail case, which turned out so badly for us, my employer, Madame Storey, decided to give herself a two months’ vacation in Paris, and asked me to accompany her. At this time she had a notion of writing her memoirs, and expected to use me as an amanuensis. As it turned out, we were immediately caught in a fresh whirl of events in Paris, and no writing was done. However, that is another story.

      She engaged accommodations on the Baratoria, her favourite ship. According to her custom we were booked under assumed names, but on this occasion it did her no good, for during the uproar of a mid-afternoon sailing a dozen people recognized her, and it soon spread all over the ship that the famous Mme. Storey was aboard.

      Amongst the acquaintances she ran into was Mrs. Hibbert Lacy, the widow of the tin-plate magnate, a lady who had cut a wide swathe in the town since the death of her domineering husband. Mrs. Lacy was a slender little woman who had preserved her figure better than her face. All that the most expensive artists in beauty could perform on her had been performed, but it only gave a sort of pickled effect.

      However, she appeared happily unconscious of that, and was posing and coquetting all over the boat deck for the news photographers. She was an amusing sort of woman to meet socially; the consciousness of great wealth at least gave her the courage to be herself; but you never know what you may find when you scratch the social veneer.

      Amongst her crowd of hangers-on, we were introduced to Miss Sigismonda Van Vliet, her secretary; Walter Lacy and Harold Lacy, her nephews, cousins to each other, and Ronald Mackworth, a young English actor who had made quite a hit in New York the preceding season in a play called, Over the Fence Is Out. He could not act, but he had a smile revealing white teeth in a tanned face that no woman could resist. He was a good thirty years younger than Mrs. Lacy.

      The richest widow had fairly screamed with delight at the sight of Mme. Storey. Such was her style. We must see a lot of each other, Rosika!

      My employer and I shared the joke with straight faces.

      We must indeed! she said to Mrs. Lacy. I had expected to bury myself in work on the way over, but I am always yours to command, Fanny.

      Not command, darling! It’s the other way ‘round. I only have money, but you have brains!

      I’m glad somebody still thinks so, said Mme. Storey, thinking of our last case with a wry face.

      You must tell me the whole story, darling. It will be more exciting than a novel.

      Mme. Storey, who never talks about her cases, merely smiled.

      Mrs. Lacy asked us to dine with her party in their suite. She had something particular to tell Mme. Storey, she said. It is difficult to find an excuse on shipboard, and my employer accepted for us. As she said after we had left them:

      Anyhow it will be more amusing than eating in our cabin alone. If we went down to the saloon we’d be stared out of face.

      Mme. Storey and I had communicating rooms forward on B deck. Nowhere on earth can one obtain such a sense of luxury as on a great liner at sea. As we sailed down the bay, and quiet settled over the ship, those charming little rooms filled with flowers, and the soft sea airs blowing through the open ports made me purr with, a sense of well-being. I looked forward to six idle days of delight. Well, it didn’t turn out just that way.

      We put on our best for the dinner party. Mme. Storey, clad in one of the unadorned velvet gowns hanging from points over her shoulders that she affects, looked regal. Mrs. Lacy had the imperial suite on B deck amidships. You entered a beautiful sitting-room where the table was set, and passed out on a private veranda with sliding windows looking out over the sea. This place, filled with palms and flowering plants, was perfectly enchanting.

      The cocktails were put in busy circulation, and tongues unloosed.

      Nobody paid any particular attention to me, for which I was glad,

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