Transcriber's notes.
This etext was produced from Weird Tales March 1951. Extensive researchdid not uncover any evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.
Dearest
BY
H. Beam Piper
Heading by Vincent Napoli
Colonel Ashley Hampton chewed his cigar and forced himself to relax, hisglance slowly traversing the room, lingering on the mosaic ofbook-spines in the tall cases, the sunlight splashed on the faded pastelcolors of the carpet, the soft-tinted autumn landscape outside theFrench windows, the trophies of Indian and Filipino and German weaponson the walls. He could easily feign relaxation here in the library of"Greyrock," as long as he looked only at these familiar inanimatethings and avoided the five people gathered in the room with him, forall of them were enemies.
There was his nephew, Stephen Hampton, greying at the temples butyouthfully dressed in sports-clothes, leaning with obvious if slightlypremature proprietorship against the fireplace, a whiskey-and-soda inhis hand. There was Myra, Stephen's smart, sophisticated-looking blondewife, reclining in a chair beside the desk. For these two, he felt animplacable hatred. The others were no less enemies, perhaps moredangerous enemies, but they were only the tools of Stephen and Myra. Forinstance, T. Barnwell Powell, prim and self-satisfied, sitting on theedge of his chair and clutching the briefcase on his lap as though itwere a restless pet which might attempt to escape. He was an honest man,as lawyers went; painfully ethical. No doubt he had convinced himselfthat his clients were acting from the noblest and most disinterestedmotives. And Doctor Alexis Vehrner, with his Vandyke beard and hisViennese accent as phony as a Soviet-controlled election, who hadpreempted the chair at Colonel Hampton's desk. That rankled the oldsoldier, but Doctor Vehrner would want to assume the position whichwould give him appearance of commanding the situation, and he probablyfelt that Colonel Hampton was no longer the master of "Greyrock." Thefifth, a Neanderthal type in a white jacket, was Doctor Vehrner'sattendant and bodyguard; he could be ignored, like an enlisted manunthinkingly obeying the orders of a superior.
"But you are not cooperating, Colonel Hampton," the psychiatristcomplained. "How can I help you if you do not cooperate?"
Colonel Hampton took the cigar from his mouth. His white mustache,tinged a faint yellow by habitual smoking, twitched angrily.
"Oh; you call it helping me, do you?" he asked acidly.
"But why else am I here?" the doctor parried.
"You're here because my loving nephew and his charming wife can't waitto see me buried in the family cemetery; they want to bury me alive inthat private Bedlam of yours," Colonel Hampton replied.
"See!" Myra Hampton turned to the psychiatrist. "We are persecutinghim! We are all envious of him! We are plotting against him!"
"Of course; this sullen and suspicious silence is a common paranoidsymptom; one often finds such symptoms in cases of senile dementia,"Doctor Vehrner agreed.
Colonel Hampton snorted contemptuously. Senile dementia! Well, he musthave been senile and demented, to bring this pair of snakes into hishome, because he felt an obligation to his dead brother's memory. Andhe'd willed "Greyrock," and his money, and everything, to Stephen. OnlyMyra couldn't wait till he died; she'd Lady-Macbethed her husband intothis insanity accusation.
"... however, I must f