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Rex Stout - Bad for Business

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Rex Stout Bad for Business
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    Bad for Business
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    Farrar & Rinehart
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    1940
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Bad for Business: summary, description and annotation

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The old-fashioned firm of Tingleys Titbits had built up over a number of years a good and solid reputation, which was now in danger of being ruined. Indignant customers were returning jars of liver pat, sandwich spread, spiced anchovies and other such delicacies. Analysis showed that the contents had been adulterated with quinine. Arthur Tingley, the proprietor, was at his wits end. It was not only bad for business, it looked like being fatal. And it was... for Arthur. Here is a fine new murder story by that most entertaining of all detective writers, Rex Stout, featuring one of his famous characters, Tecumseh Fox, in the rle of detective.

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Rex Stout

Bad for Business

Cover of the original edition Chapter 1 Amy Duncan said to herself aloud in - photo 1Cover of the original edition

Chapter 1

Amy Duncan said to herself, aloud, in a tone of withering sarcasm, Heaven protect the poor working girl! Ill go get me a job at the five and ten, something decent and domestic like the kitchenware counter. Wah!

She squeezed the rinse water from the stockings she had been washing, hung them in a neat row along the shower-curtain rail, dried her hands, and left the bathroom to enter the modest little living room of the apartment on Grove Street which she shared with a friend. Facing south, it was often a cheerful little room with the sun slanting in through the two windows, but now the dim November gloom of an overcast day was no more cheerful than she was. As she picked up her watch from the table at one end of the sofa and fastened it to her wrist, she frowned at it. It said twelve oclock, and since her lunch engagement at the Churchill with the man who either was or wasnt trying to blackmail Mrs. V. A. Grimsby was for one oclock, and it would take only twenty minutes to get there, and she intended to be fifteen minutes late, there was nearly an hour ahead of her and nothing to do with it that she felt like doing.

She wandered into the bedroom and got her gray fur coat from the closet and made another start at the urgent problem of whether to spend eighty-three dollars having it remodeled. She certainly couldnt afford the eighty-three dollars, but just look at it, and anyway she should never have bought the thing, with her light brown hair and the faint coloring of her skin and her outlandish chartreuse eyes. Eighty-three dollars! She shrugged and said something, not complimentary, to the coat.

She returned to the living room and sat on the sofa with a magazine which she didnt open. As far as the lunch engagement with the blackmailer was concerned, it was not at all certain that she was going to keep it. She was faced with a problem even more urgent than the remodeling of the fur coat. She had taken the job, about a year ago, because (a) it had been offered to her, (b) it had sounded exciting, (c) the lawyer whose secretary she was had just proposed to her for the fifth time and it was getting scrummy, and (d) she was tired of writing ... this agreement, entered into this day of January, 1939, by the Corrigan Construction Company, hereinafter called... And now what? Well, it had certain aspects. There was something sneaky but no, she would be honest, that wasnt it. The reason she felt the way she did about it was quite specific.

She wanted to quit. But she couldnt just quit, because there were things like rent and food and clothes to be considered. How did people save money, anyhow? There must be some kind of a trick to it. She got up to a hundred dollars in a savings bank once, but then that girl in the office had got into trouble, and poof it went, and how were you going to avoid things like that? Of course if you were a skunk

The bell rang. With her mind still on her problem, she went to the kitchenette and pushed the button to release the latch of the vestibule door downstairs, and then came back to open the door from the living room to the outer hall. She stood on the threshold, hearing footsteps ascending the flight of stairs and supposing in an inactive corner of her mind that it would be laundry or something; but saw that it wasnt when a man in well-tailored brown reached her level and came at her along the poorly lit hall. Her fingers tightened around the doorknob they were grasping, but that could not be seen.

For heavens sake, she said, and felt that she should have cleared her throat before trying to speak.

Good afternoon. The man took his hat off and faced her with a grin which might have been called sheepish but for the fact that all other evidence was against any such assumption. Though saved from being offensively handsome by a rather wide mouth and a nose too broad to be called noble, he was thoroughly presentable, and there was a comfortable, even faintly aggressive, assurance in the set of his shoulders and the action of all his muscles, walking and standing. Nevertheless, the grin could undeniably have been called sheepish.

She had cleared her throat and still had a tight grasp on the doorknob. I suppose it is, she admitted. I mean its after noon. But I thought you were a big executive. Dont tell me youre peddling provisions and beverages from door to door.

Thats a nice dress, he said. I could see it better in there where theres more light. I just want to I wont keep you long.

You certainly wont. She made room for him to pass within, shut the door, turned to him, and glanced at her watch. I havent time to show you any etchings, because I have to leave in about a minute to keep an engagement. And Im sorry, but I dont need any beans or flour or canned peaches

If I only have a minute, he cut her off, I want to use it. What has happened?

Happened? She smiled at him. Well, Norway has taken the Germans off of the City of Flint and interned them, and President Roosevelt

Please! he begged. He wasnt grinning. What are you trying to do, have some fun with me?

Good heavens, no. His eyes required to be met, and she met them, keeping, she hoped, an easy dancing smile in hers. I wouldnt dream of trying to have fun with one of the ablest and shrewdest

Oh, you wouldnt. He took a step toward her. I dont know about my being able and shrewd, but Im pretty well occupied during business hours. Do you think Im in the habit of running off in the middle of the day to beg a girl to go to a football game?

Certainly not, she laughed. You dont have to. You just snap your fingers, and scads of girls

Excuse me. I came because its well, its important to me. I mean you are. You phone and tell me casually that you cant have dinner with me tomorrow and you cant go to the game with me Saturday. You say things interfere but you wont say what things. You only stammer

I didnt stammer!

Well, I dont mean stammer. I mean you didnt even bother to make up a plausible excuse. You just more or less give me to understand that all dates are off. And that doesnt make sense unless something has happened, because you certainly gave me the impression that you liked me and enjoyed being with me. Of course weve only been together five times in the three weeks since we met, and I dont mean necessarily that you liked me in the way I was beginning to like I dont mean beginning either I mean you know very well the kind of impression for instance, I have never missed a Yale-Harvard game since I graduated twelve years ago, and I dont like to go to a football game with a girl, I like to go with men and always have until now

I appreciated it deeply, Mr. Cliff, really I did

You see? Mr. Cliff! You were calling me Leonard. And now Mr. Cliff with sarcasm, and you wont see me tomorrow and you wont go to the game Saturday and you wont say what has happened, and I have a right to expect

Right? Her brows went up. Oh? Have you got rights?

Yes, I... but I dont... yes, I have! His color was rising. Now look didnt you give me a reason to suppose werent we friends? Werent we friends enough so that if you decide to go to a football game with me and then suddenly decide not to go, I have a right to ask you why? Tell me that!

Im not going, said Amy firmly, with a frozen smile.

Why not?

She shook her head. I just dont want to. She looked at her wrist, which was all right as a gesture, though she didnt see the time. And really I mustnt be late

You wont tell me?

Theres nothing to tell. The smile cracked a little. You seem to assume that if a girl decides she isnt going somewhere with you, something terrible must have happened. Dont you admit the possibility that she merely doesnt care to go?

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