Laura

Laura quotes

60 total quotes (ID: 786)

Anne Treadwell
Det. Lt. Mark McPherson
Laura Hunt
Shelby Carpenter
Waldo Lydecker


I shall never forget the weekend Laura died. A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if I were the only human being left in New York. For with Laura's horrible death, I was alone. I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her. And I had just begun to write Laura's story when - another of those detectives came to see me. I had him wait. I could watch him through the half-open door. I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence, and that was in Laura's apartment in the very room where she was murdered.


I was groping for some way to keep Laura's name out of it. I was heartbroken about Diane and panic-stricken about Laura. I haven't slept a full two hours since this thing happened.

If you know anything about faces, look at mine. How singularly innocent I look this morning. Have you ever seen such candid eyes?

It was the last time I ever heard her voice. I was sure she had too much pride to forgive him....I shall never forgive myself for letting her become involved with Shelby. It was my fault. I should have stopped it somehow.

Laura, dear, I cannot stand these morons any longer. If you don't come with me this instant, I shall run amok.

Perhaps our friend can weave all the loose ends into a noose, eh, McPherson?

She had something about her, that girl. I had to speak to her again. I had to see her.

Shelby, why don't you come to your senses? You know it's all over between you and Laura or it soon will be. You haven't lost me. Why don't we get married - now?...You need me. We'll get the best lawyer that money can buy. And when it's all over, we'll go away - anywhere you want - and forget about all this.

Then one Tuesday, she phoned and said she couldn't come. It didn't matter really. But when it happened again the following Friday, I was disturbed. I couldn't understand it. I felt betrayed and yet I knew Laura wouldn't betray anyone. I walked for a long time. Then, I found myself before her apartment building. The lights were on. It pleased me to know she was home 'til I saw she was not alone. Well, I waited. I wanted to see who he was. It was Jacoby who had recently painted her portrait. I never liked the man. He was so obviously conscious of looking more like an athlete than an artist. I spent the rest of the night writing a column about him. I demolished his affectations, exposed his camouflaged imitations of better painters, ridiculed his theories. I did it for her, knowing Jacoby was unworthy of her. It was a masterpiece because it was a labor of love. Naturally, she could never regard him seriously again. There were others, of course. But her own discrimination ruled them out before it became necessary for me to intercede.

Then there was a moment's silence and then a shot. It was an awful explosion. By the time I reached her, the door was closed. She lay there on the floor....I was too confused, too horrified, incapable of doing anything. The room was dark. I saw only a vague heap lying on the floor. I don't think I fully grasped the situation. I think I called her name, but I'm not sure. I-I remember kneeling on the floor, feeling her heart. My first instinct was to call the police....I was afraid, not only for myself but for Laura. In a panicky sort of way, I felt that I must keep out of this to keep Laura out of it. Oh, I know now how foolish and hopeless it was, but there was only one thing on my mind - the safety of a person whose life was dearer to me than my own. Don't you understand that?

This is our table, Laura's and mine. We spent many quiet evenings here together.

To have overlooked me would have been a pointed insult.

What came of it I hoped to hear that night. I alternated between moods of over-optimism and over-pessimism. When the phone rang, I had a foreboding of disaster.

When a dame gets killed, she doesn't worry about how she looks.

You better watch out, McPherson, or you'll end up in a psychiatric ward. I don't think they've ever had a patient who fell in love with a corpse.