Mrs Henry Thorsen was tall, slim, and self-conscious with steel-grey hair, a rather kind face with good features, and piercing grey eyes which matched her immaculate hairdo.
She regarded me as she closed the door. No smile. A lift of plucked eyebrows, the eyes going over me with a scrutiny that made me feel I had left my zipper undone.
‘Mr Wallace?’ Her voice was harsh and cold.
‘That’s correct,’ I said.
She waved to a chair.
‘Sit down. This need not keep me long.’
The atmosphere was every bit as warm and friendly as a funeral.
Glenda had warned me to treat this woman with kid gloves, so, with a little bow; I took the hellishly uncomfortable chair she had indicated.
Then she proceeded to move around the room, adjusting one expensive looking knick-knack after another. From behind, she had a figure of a woman half her age. I guessed she was around 56, maybe more, but she had certainly taken care of her body.
I waited. I am good at waiting. Waiting is part of an operator’s business.
She had reached the far end of the room, turned and paused, and again regarded me. I met her steady scrutiny with one of my own.
Although we were now some thirty feet apart, her cold, harsh voice reached me.
‘I have been told your agency is the best on the east coast,’ she said.
‘I wouldn’t be working for it if it wasn’t, Mrs Thorsen,’ I said.
She began to walk towards me. Her movements flowed like gentle water.
‘Then I suppose, Mr Wallace, you consider yourself a good operator.’
The sneer in her voice irritated me.
‘No I don’t consider myself a good operator,’ I said, an edge to my voice. ‘I am a good operator.’
She was now within six feet of me. She again stared thoughtfully at me, then nodded and sat down on one of the God-awful antique chairs that could give you a twisted spine and certainly corns on your ass.
‘I have reason to believe that my daughter is being blackmailed,’ she said, folding her long-fingered hands in her lap. ‘I understand you people are good with cases of blackmail.’
‘None better, Mrs Thorsen,’ I said, my face and voice deadpan.
‘I want you to find out why my daughter is being blackmailed and who the blackmailer is.’
‘With your cooperation, this should be no problem,’ I said. ‘Will you tell me what reasons you have to think your daughter is being blackmailed?’
‘My daughter is drawing ten thousand dollars a month in cash from her account. This has become a regular withdrawal for the past ten months.’ She frowned down at her hands. ‘Mr Ackland has become worried, and was good enough to alert me.’
‘Mr Ackland?’
‘He is the family’s banker: the Pacific & National. He and my late husband were very close friends.’
‘Your daughter has an income of her own and her own account?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. My late husband was fond of Angela, our daughter. He left her a large sum of money in trust. The monthly income from this trust is fifteen thousand. This is, of course, an absurd amount of money for a girl of her age.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Twenty-four.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought it abnormal for a girl of 24, with an income of fifteen thousand a month, to spend ten thousand a month, but you will be able to enlighten me.’
‘It is certainly abnormal,’ Mrs Thorsen said sharply. ‘I must tell you that Angela is not a normal girl. Unfortunately, she was a measles-baby.’ She paused to stare at me with those probing grey eyes. ‘You understand?’
‘Sure. It happens. The mother, when pregnant, catches measles, and it affects the baby.’
‘Exactly. Angela is greatly retarded. She had to have a tutor, but even then, she has scarcely any education. It wasn’t until she was twenty years of age that she showed signs of growing up. My husband made this absurd provision for her. For the first two months she showed no interest in the monthly income, then she began drawing these big sums every month. Mr Ackland, who is a dear friend of mine, became uneasy, and only last week he decided to consult me. He suggested to me that Angela was being blackmailed. He is very astute. I rely on him.’
‘To get the record straight, Mrs Thorsen, I understand Mr Thorsen died twelve months ago. Your daughter then came into this income, and has been drawing ten thousand dollars a month for the past ten months. Is that correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘But for the first two months she didn’t use the money?’
‘According to Mr Ackland she spent two thousand a month to keep herself and pay the black woman who looks after her.’
‘Your daughter lives with you?’
Mrs Thorsen stiffened.
‘Certainly not! We are not close. As well as this absurd trust, my husband left her a cottage at the far end of the estate. She lives there with a black woman who does all the housework and provides meals. I haven’t seen Angela for some weeks. She wouldn’t mix with my social circle. Unfortunately, she is not attractive. She is a hopeless conversationalist.’
‘Does she have friends of her own?’
‘I have no idea. She lives her life, I live mine.’
‘Would there be boyfriends? Maybe a special boyfriend?’
Mrs Thorsen looked sour.
‘Most unlikely. I can’t imagine any decent boy being interested in Angela. As I have said, she is unattractive.’
‘But she is rich, Mrs Thorsen,’ I pointed out. ‘Lots of men can put up with unattractive girls if they have money.’
‘Both Mr Ackland and I have thought of that. That is for you to find out.’
‘That I can certainly do,’ I said. ‘I would like to know a little more about your daughter. Have you any idea how she passes her time: does she swim, play tennis, go dancing?’
Mrs Thorsen shrugged impatiently.
‘I wouldn’t know. As I told you we seldom meet.’
I began to dislike this woman: as a mother she wouldn’t get my nomination for an Oscar.
‘She is the only child?’
Mrs Thorsen stiffened, and her eyes flashed.
‘I had a son, but we need not discuss him. All it is necessary to say about him is that he left home some time ago. I am glad to say I haven’t seen him nor heard from him since he left. He certainly doesn’t come into this problem I have with Angela.’
‘Would you have any objection to my seeing Mr Ackland?’
‘None at all. Mr Ackland has my complete confidence. In fact, it was he who suggested I should seek your help. See him by all means.’
‘How about your daughter? I would have to see her.’
‘Yes. Tomorrow is the first of the month. She is certain to go to the bank. Mr Ackland will arrange for you to see her, but on no account are you to approach her or speak to her. I don’t want Angela to know that she is being investigated, nor do I want anyone, except Mr Ackland, to know either. I understand your agency is most discreet.’
‘You can be sure of that, Mrs Thorsen.’ I got to my feet. ‘I will see Mr Ackland this afternoon. When I have something to tell you, I will contact you.’
‘I trust you won’t take long. I find your charges excessive.’
‘We have a lot of work on hand, Mrs Thorsen. You can be sure we will be as quick as we can to give you the information you want.’
‘When you have this information, kindly telephone for an appointment. I lead a very busy life.’ She waved to the door. ‘Will you see yourself out? Smedley, my butler, is a drunkard, and I disturb him as little as possible.’
‘Are you thinking of getting rid of him, Mrs Thorsen?’ I asked at the door.
She lifted her eyebrows and gave me a cold stare.
‘Smedley has been with the family for over thirty years. He knows my habits, and is good with the silver. He also amuses my friends. Until his condition worsens, I will keep him. Good day, Mr Wallace.’