“Not me. I’m a friend of Hugh’s, and that’s my only interest in this case. I more or less stumbled into it.”
“I see.” But he sounded a little dubious.
“Getting back to Mrs. Turner, she didn’t make that scene with her husband for fun. She must have had reason. Love or hate?”
Silliman held his tongue for a minute, but he couldn’t resist the chance to gossip. “I expect it’s a mixture of love and hate. She’s been interested in Hugh ever since the Admiral brought her here. She’s not a San Marcos girl, you know.” He seemed to take comfort from that. “She was a Wave officer in Washington during the war. The Admiral noticed her — Sara knows how to make herself conspicuous — and added her to his personal staff. When he retired he married her and came here to live in his family home. Alice’s mother has been dead for many years. Well, Sara hadn’t been here two months before she was making eyes at Hugh.” He pressed his lips together in spinsterly disapproval. “The rest is local history.”
“They had an affair?”
“A rather one-sided affair, so far as I could judge. She was quite insane about him. I don’t believe he responded, except in the physical sense. Your friend is quite a demon with the ladies.” There was a whisper of envy in Silliman’s disapproval
“But I understood he was going to marry Alice.”
“Oh, he is, he is. At least he certainly was until this dreadful business came up. His... ah... involvement with Sara occurred before he knew Alice. She was away at art school until a few months ago.”
“Does Alice know about his affair with her stepmother?”
“I suppose she does. I hear the two women don’t get along at all well, though there may be other reasons for that. Alice refuses to live in the same house — she’s moved into the gardener’s cottage behind the Turner house. I think her trouble with Sara is one reason why she came to work for me. Of course, there’s the money consideration, too. The Turners aren’t well off.”
“I thought they were rolling in it,” I said, “from the way he brushed off the matter of the insurance. Twenty-five thousand dollars, did you say?”
“Yes. He’s quite fond of Hugh.”
“If he’s not well heeled, how does he happen to have such a valuable painting?”
“It was a gift, when he married his first wife. Her father was in the French Embassy in Washington, and he gave them the Chardin as a wedding present. You can understand the Admiral’s attachment to it.”
“Better than I can his decision not to call in the police. How do you feel about that, Doctor?”
He didn’t answer for a while. We were nearing the center of the city and I had to watch the traffic. I couldn’t keep track of what went on in his face.
“After all it is his picture,” he said carefully. “And his prospective son-in-law.”
“You don’t think Hugh’s responsible, though?”
“I don’t know what to think. I’m thoroughly confused. And I won’t know what to think until I have a chance to talk to Western.” He gave me a sharp look. “Are you going to make a search for him?”
“Somebody has to. I seem to be elected.”
When I let him out in front of the gallery, I asked him where Mary Western worked.
“The City Hospital.” He told me how to find it. “But you will be discreet, Mr. Archer? You won’t do or say anything rash? I’m in a very delicate position.”
“I’ll be very suave and bland.” But I slammed the door hard in his face.
There were several patients in the x-ray waiting room, in various stages of dilapidation and disrepair. The plump blonde at the reception desk told me Miss Western was in the dark room. Would I wait? I sat down and admired the way her sunburned shoulders glowed through her nylon uniform. In a few minutes Mary came into the room, starched and controlled and efficient-looking. She blinked in the strong light from the window. I got a quick impression that there was a lost child hidden within her.
“Have you seen Hugh?” she asked.
“No. Come out for a minute.” I took her elbow and drew her into the corridor.
“What is it?” Her voice was quiet but it had risen in pitch. “Has something happened to him?”
“Not to him. Admiral Turner’s picture’s been stolen from the gallery. The one they all call the Chardin.”
“But how does Hugh come into this?”
“Somebody seems to think he took it.”
“Somebody?”
“Mrs. Turner, to be specific.”
“Sara! She’d say anything to get back at him for ditching her.”
I filed that one away. “Maybe so. The fact is, the Admiral seems to suspect him, too. So much so that he’s keeping the police out of it.”
“Admiral Turner is a senile fool. If Hugh were here to defend himself—”
“But that’s the point. He isn’t.”
“I’ve got to find him.” She turned toward the door.
“It may not be so easy.”
She looked back in quick anger, her round chin prominent. “You suspect him too.”
“I do not. But a crime’s been committed, remember. Crimes often come in pairs.”
She turned, her eyes large and very dark. “You do think something has happened to my brother.”
“I don’t think anything. But if I was certain that he’s all right, I’d be on my way to San Francisco now.”
“You believe it’s as bad as that,” she said in a whisper. “I’ve got to go to the police.”
“It’s up to you. You’ll want to keep them out of it, though, if there’s the slightest chance—” I left the sentence unfinished.
She finished it: “That Hugh is a thief? There isn’t. But I’ll tell you what we’ll do. He may be up at his shack in the mountains. He’s gone off there before without telling anyone. Will you drive up with me?” She laid a light hand on my arm. “I can go myself if you have to get away.”
“I’m sticking around,” I said. “Can you get time off?”
“I’m taking it. All they can do is fire me, and there aren’t enough good technicians to go around. Anyway, I put in three hours overtime last night. Be with you in two minutes.”
I put the top of the convertible down. As we drove out of the city the wind blew away her smooth glaze of efficiency, colored her cheeks, and loosened her sleek hair.
“You should do this oftener,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Get out in the country and relax.”
“I’m not exactly relaxed, with my brother accused of theft — and missing.”
“Anyway, you’re not working. Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps you work too hard?”
“Has it ever-occurred to you that somebody has to work or nothing will get done? You and Hugh are more alike than I thought.”
“In some ways that’s a compliment. But you make it sound like an insult.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. But Hugh and I are so different. I admit he works hard at his painting, but he’s never tried to make a steady living. Since I left school, I’ve had to look after the bread and butter for both of us. His salary as resident painter keeps him in artist’s supplies, and that’s about all.”
“I thought he was doing well. His show’s had a big advance buildup in the L.A. papers.”
“Critics don’t buy pictures,” she said bluntly. “He’s having the show to try and sell some paintings, so he can afford to get married. Hugh has suddenly realized that money is one of the essentials.” She added with some bitterness, “The realization came a little late.”
“He’s been doing some outside work, though, hasn’t he? Isn’t he a part-time agent or something?”
“For Hendryx, yes.” She made the name sound like a dirty word. “I’d just as soon he didn’t take any of that man’s money.”