The Four Johns Read Free

the enclosed area.”
    â€œClever.”
    â€œYou’re still not taking me seriously.”
    â€œTo think that ten minutes ago you were insulting Harriet because she’s a psychologist.”
    â€œI see I’ll have to explain.”
    â€œI wish you would. I’ve been wondering whether my sister is alive or dead.”
    â€œShe’s dead.”

CHAPTER 1
    The Yerba Buena Garden Apartments, a pair of two-story six-apartment complexes, faced each other across a court flagged with black concrete rectangles. There was a small fountain in the center of the court; and a strip of soil planted to palms, white flax, pampas grass, oleander and dwarf bamboo comprised the “garden.” Mary and Susie Hazelwood occupied Apartment 12, at the far end of the south unit’s upper tier. Psychologist Harriet Brill had Apartment 10, at the street end of the balcony. Between, in Apartment 11, resided old Mrs. Bridey Kelly, a retired schoolteacher and a widow, who was very much interested in God. Apartment 9, directly below Susie and Mary, was vacant. In Apartment 8 lived a retired couple currently spending a month in Mexico. Apartment 7 irregularly housed a group of airline hostesses who came and went at unpredictable times and whom no one knew.
    In the north six-plex, directly across from Susie and Mary but on the lower level, Mervyn Gray occupied Apartment 3. Apartment 2 was vacant. In Apartment 1, across from Harriet Brill but also on the lower level, lived John Boce. Apartment units 4, 5 and 6, on the top deck, were rented to three working couples who formed a clique of their own.
    On the morning of Friday, June fourteenth, Mary Hazelwood, a senior at the university (with another semester to go before graduation), finished the last of her final examinations. At eight o’clock in the evening she left Apartment 12. She was wearing a sky-blue suit and a jaunty light gray coat, and she was carrying a small suitcase. She went down the steps to the court and out to the sidewalk and was seen no more.
    She had confided her plans to no one, least of all her sister Susie, whom she loved dearly but with whom she quarreled regularly.
    Harriet Brill was the last person to admit having seen Mary. About six o’clock, entering Apartment 12 without ringing, she found Mary, curled on the couch, talking into the telephone. Harriet stood poised on tiptoe in the event Mary should turn to look questioningly at her. Mary completed her conversation: “… I don’t know how, but I’m sure you’ll manage. You’ve got such a persuasive tongue.… Please, John, be on time for once?… Please?… Naturally I love you. Who else?… Well, then … Good-bye.” The affectionate avowals were in Mary’s usual frivolous vein, and Harriet attached no significance to them. Later she was not so sure.
    Mary jumped to her feet. She showed no surprise at the sight of Harriet; possibly she had been aware of Harriet’s presence. “You’ll have to forgive me,” said Mary. “I’m in a terrible rush. I’ve got to shower and change and pack a suitcase and I’ve only got an hour or so.”
    â€œGoing somewhere?” asked Harriet, eyes dancing with curiosity.
    â€œTimbuktu. Around the moon. The robber woods of Tartary. Possibly even Los Angeles.”
    â€œ Tchk, tchk . Such high spirits!”
    â€œExams are over. I’m a free woman. Hurrah.”
    â€œI scent a mystery,” said Harriet archly. “Are you eloping?”
    Mary laughed, the friendly, infectious laugh that instantly reduced men to servility (if her physique had not already done so). “I might do worse. I’m twenty-two and still single. Practically a spinster.” She went into the bathroom and started the shower; and Harriet, thirty and still single, turned on her heel and marched out. She had no great affection for either Mary or Susie, though Mary was usually easier to