Tuesday, February 5, 2013
The Window at the White Cat by Mary Roberts Rinehart
1. Colorful Crime: a book with a color or reference to color in the title This book was published in 1910.
I really enjoyed this book. I liked the way the story progressed. It's funny that the story could be about money in politics now! Money getting stolen and banks failing.
A young lady goes to Jack Knox, a lawyer, because her father is missing. Her father is the cashier for the party. Jack gets Margery to move in with her old maiden aunts. He happens to be their lawyer. People get attacked and go missing, houses get broken into and people die. Everything gets all mixed up, while Jack and 2 of his friends, a PI and a reporter, figure out this mystery with a political twist.
In my criminal work anything that wears skirts is a lady, until the law proves her otherwise. From the frayed and slovenly petticoats of the woman who owns a poultry stand in the market and who has grown wealthy by selling chickens at twelve ounces to the pound, or the silk sweep of Mamie Tracy, whose diamonds have been stolen down on the avenue, or the staidly respectable black and middle-aged skirt of the client whose husband has found an affinity partial to laces and fripperies, and has run off with her–all the wearers are ladies, and as such announced by Hawes. In fact, he carries it to excess. He speaks of his wash lady, with a husband who is an ash merchant, and he announced one day in some excitement, that the lady who had just gone out had appropriated all the loose change out of the pocket of his overcoat.
So when Hawes announced a lady, I took my feet off my desk, put down the brief I had been reading, and rose perfunctorily. With my first glance at my visitor, however, I threw away my cigar, and I have heard since, settled my tie. That this client was different was borne in on me at once by the way she entered the room. She had poise in spite of embarrassment, and her face when she raised her veil was white, refined, and young.
"I did not send in my name," she said, when she saw me glancing down for the card Hawes usually puts on my table. "It was advice I wanted, and I–I did not think the name would matter." Read more here online.