Chapter 1
Dusk was closing in as we rolled along Route 77 and, across the green alfalfa fields, saw the lights pricking out in the piled up skyscrapers of Dallas, Texas. Light fountained above one and on top of another was a great flying red horse, which turned slowly like a weathervane in a soft but steady wind. Definitely the scene: was strictly modern, but for the moment it seemed as improbable as a picture in a fairy tale.
āWe should be knights in armor, Pancho. Galloping towards that sparkling city across this blue-green plain.ā
My companion, a satiny brown dachshund, sniffed rapturously at the alfalfa and wagged his skinny little tail.
My husband, and Panchoās master, Patrick Abbott, would not be as happy to see Pancho as Pancho would be to see him. But, darling, I would say, he wanted so much to come. After all, six hundred miles is a long way to drive entirely alone. But how many times, dear, Patrick would answer, must I ask you not to bring the dog when weāre stopping at a hotel? Hotels and dogs donāt mix, Patrick would say, and I would say, smiling, āBut this is Texas. Everybody in Texas is so broad-minded that of course the hotel will take in our dog.ā
And Pancho would listen, his ears up, his big eyes so full of loving kindness that Patrick would break down.
āHow a dog his size can be such a regular dog beats me, Jean.ā
āItās the life-sized dachshund character, Pat.ā
āNuts. Heās merely cockeyed. Heās little and he canāt bring himself to admit it.ā
āHe knows everything, Pat. Strictly everything.ā
āToo bad he canāt talk.ā
Using the flying red horse as a guide I drove towards the skyscrapers and after a few minutes arrived outside the Hotel Adolphus. Here we were to meet Patrick Abbott.
A doorman opened the car door and took my keys. He made no objection to Pancho. A colored boy sallied forth to collect my bags. He said I sure had a mighty pretty little dog. So far, swell, I thought. I snapped the leash onto Panchoās collar and we stepped out on the sidewalk.
āOh, Kim! Look! Isnāt he a dream? Heās the very picture of Sam.ā
What a lovely voice, I thought.
āHe sure is, Sally,ā a boyish voice replied to the lovely girlish voice.
āOh, Kim! Sam really was murdered. I had a post-mortem.ā
āDarling,ā Kim said.
This startling piece of conversation demanded attention.
I looked at them and met the starry-eyed glance of a tall, slim girl with a small face, thick brown hair, green eyes, a small straight nose, and a sweet wide mouth. She wore a gray flannel suit and on the crown of her head a small gray felt cloche. With her was a taller boy, also dressed in gray, with broad shoulders, gray eyes, a very dark suntan, and a sunburned crew cut. They were in love and didnāt care who knew it. So I smiled at them. They smiled back.
Then I followed Pancho into the hotel. As usual, he knew exactly what to do.
Patrick was in the lobby. Tall and lean, with long blue eyes, very dark hair, his slender western face extra brown from two weeks of South Texas sunshine, he was standing just beyond the top of the worn marble steps which led up from the main entrance of the hotel. With him was a big broad-shouldered, blue-eyed, gray-haired man and a slim, stylish woman who looked like a chic witch.
Patrick spied me at once and I saw the love light come into his eyes, even though they also spied Pancho. He hurried to meet me and kissed me, hard.
He stooped to pat Pancho, who was about to wag himself into two parts.
āHow come the dog, Jeanie?ā
āWell, he wanted so to come, and ā¦ā
āNuts,ā Patrick said fondly. He kissed me again. āI doubt if the hotel will take him. Weāll find out later. Come along and meet the Dollahans. Iles Dollahan was one of the oil men I met while on this Houston case weāve just finished. Amanda is his second wife.ā
Introductions were made. Iles had a deep voice and warm manner which made you sense his real friendliness. Amanda was gray-haired but a lot younger than her husband. Twenty years, I guessed, or even more. Her bewitching face was heart-shaped. Her eyes were a deep velvety black. Her skin was ivory and her only make-up was her ruby-red lipstick. Her smile was formal but not uncordial. She wore black, carried a big armful of minks, wore some stunning ruby earrings in the pointed lobes of her ears, and clipped at her throat were two ruby-packed replicas of the horse which flies over Dallas.
Probably thinking of her very superior nylons, Amanda moved away slightly when she looked at Pancho.
āCute little dog,ā Iles said. āWhatās his name?ā
āPancho,ā I said.
āPancho?ā Amanda asked. āWhat a queer name for a dachshund.ā
āNot for him, Mrs. Dollahan. Pancho comes from a fine old Spanish dachshund family.ā*
āSpanish? How quaint!ā
āThe little fellow looks like Sam, Amanda,ā Iles Dollahan said.
āI daresay he does. They all look alike, Iles, dear.ā
The lady is cultivated as hell, I thought. She chooses every word in advance and spits it out whole.
āIles?ā called a sweet voice. It was the girl in gray. She came flying up the steps; followed by the boy with the sunburned crew cut.
āHoney!ā Iles said. He kissed her and nodded at the boy. āLike you to meet my daughter, Sally, Mrs. Abbott.ā
āHello,ā we said.
āAnd Kim Forsythe. Kimās one of our engineers. He and Pat are acquainted already.ā
āWhat fun!ā Sally Dollahan said. āWe saw you outside, remember? We were talking about your dog. Isnāt he beautiful, Iles? He looks exactly like Sam.ā To me, āSam was my dachshund.ā
Amanda said in her precise, toneless voice, āWe hope you will dine with us tonight, Mrs. Abbott.ā I glanced at Patrick. His eyes said to accept. I said thank you and Amanda said, āAround eightish, at the Club. Iām sorry we canāt have you at the house. Itās the servantsā night out, you see.ā
āWeāve told. Pat how to get to the Club,ā Iles said.
I had misgivings now, for I had not come prepared to dine with anybody quite as elegant as Amanda.
āMust we dress, Mrs. Dollahan? If so ā¦ā
āHell, no,ā Iles said. āCome the way you are.ā
āFormal clothes are not necessary,ā Amanda said, in the kind of tone that makes you think like fish theyāre not. āIām afraid youāll have to do something about your dog, though. This hotel does not allow dogs, and the Club ā¦ā
āOh, damn the Club,ā Iles said. āBring the little fellow right along.ā
āLet me keep him,ā Sally Dollahan said. She was so earnest about it I felt a little puzzled. āHeāll be all right with me. Iād just love to have him all the time youāre here.ā
āSure she would,ā her father said. āSally is just crazy about dashhounds. Donāt you worry about that little dog, Mrs. Abbott, so long as heās with Sally.ā
I now looked at Pancho, since he was the one to decide this, really. He was sitting upon his small haunches and looking up at Sally and wagging his little front feet. He looked like a brown penguin. That our dog should fall so hard and so serenely for somebody he had only just met gave a kind of pang. But anyhow that settled the problem of Pancho at the momentāand also led to complications that no one could have foreseen.
We had a suite on one of the top floors. Through the slanted louvers I could see that great flying red horse, still high above us.
I took a good look at the horse after Patrick stopped kissing me, and I said, āDid you notice those ruby clips Amanda Dollahan was wearing, Pat? I suppose they were rubies.ā
āThey are,ā Patrick said.
āOh. You know?ā
āI wasnāt told it, but they would be.ā
āYou mean, theyāve got money?ā
āWho hasnāt in Dallas? Gee, youāre sweet, Jeanie. Why talk about money? I wish we didnāt have to go out to dinner. We could call room service, order up dinner with champagne, shut out the world, and ā¦ā
āHey? Iāve been in seclusion while youāve been away. Up in Northern New Mexico, remember? Weāre heading back to New Mexico in a couple of days and you can shut the world out up there.ā
Patrick groaned.
āAnyhow we have to go. Itās business, in a way. Iles didnāt tell me exactly whatās on his mind but he said in Houston that he had something he wanted to consult me about. We flew up this afternoon in his private plane. His pilot was with us, and also Kim Forsythe, so Iles didnāt open up about whatever it is heās worrying about. Iām to see him about that in the morning. What was your impression of the Dollahans, Jean?ā
āFirst, a cigarette.ā
āOkay.ā Patrick gave me one and took one himself. āSit on my lap while we smokethese.ā
He gave me a light and chose the best chair and cradled me, after long experience, expertly.
āIles, I go for,ā I said. āAlso his lovely daughter Sally. Also her boyfriend, Kim. They make a beautiful pair. Amanda ā¦ well, I donāt know.ā
āSheās very brainy, Iles says.ā
āIām sure of it. Somehow I donāt vibrate to Amanda. Maybe itās because she seems too perfect.ā
āAmanda is one of the Willoz sisters.ā
āWho?ā
āDallas girls. I heard about them in Houston, but not from Iles. Like Iles Dollahan, the sisters started from scratch. There are three of them. Amanda is the eldest. Juliana is a year younger than Amanda. Juliana was divorced from Ulysses B. Green, said to be one of the richest men in the oil business. The third is Rosemary, who is much younger than the other two. She married some elderly gent or other when she was sixteen and the marriage was annulled. Juliana calls herself Mrs. Willoz. Rosemary is Miss Willoz. Rosemary lives with the Dollahans.ā
āWhy all this detail?ā
āYouāll meet them at dinner. Thought you might like to get the dope on them first. I have a hunch that what Iles wants to talk to me about is a family affair. Iād like you to keep your eyes open. From what Iāve heard, Amanda Dollahan is the smart one of the three sisters. Juliana doesnāt seem to register specially. Rosemary is said to be pretty as a peach. Sheās about Sallyās age, I should guess. Iles struck it very rich about six years ago. Amanda was then his secretary. She is credited with much of his financial success. Iles is a wonderful guy, Jean. No education to speak of, climbed the ladder all by himself.ā
āAnd there sat Amanda. At the top, in her web.ā
āHey?ā
I put his hand against my face.
āIām jealous. Iām jealous of her chic. Iām jealous of her flying ruby horses, specially. Theyāre the smartest gadgets Iāve seen.ā
Patrick said, āWould you like something like them, set with emeralds?ā
āPat!ā
āBut you donāt need to hanker after anybodyās gadgets, Jean. I love buying emeralds, but every time Iāve wanted to, since we got married ā¦ā
āIdiot! Steak is a dollar and a quarter a pound. Mikeās nurse costs a mint. We havenāt ...