I laughed. “Not to worry. If you want to hire me, give me a dollar and I’ll give you a receipt, and that will mean you’ve hired me. You’ll have to talk to your mother about it, though.”
“My money’s upstairs,” she said, getting up. “Do you think the same person killed Daddy who killed Pete?”
“It seems probable, although I don’t really have any facts to go on.”
“Do you think it’s someone who might-well, is someone trying to wipe out my family?”
I considered that. It wasn’t completely out of the question, but it was an awfully dramatic way to do it, and rather slow. “I doubt it,” I said finally. “Not completely impossible-but if they wanted to do that, why not just get you all when you were in the car together yesterday?”
“I’ll go get my money,” Jill said, going to the door. She opened it and Lucy appeared, crossing the hall. “So that’s where you are,” she said sharply. “How can you disappear like that and your mother wanting you?” She looked into the room. “Now don’t tell me that detective woman got in here! Come on, you,” she said to me. “Out you go! We’ve got trouble enough around here without you stirring it up.”
“If you please, Lucy,” Jill said in a very grown-up way, “Miss Warshawski came up here because I invited her, and she will leave when I ask her to.”
“Well, your mother will have something to say about that,” Lucy snapped.
“I’ll talk to her myself,” Jill snapped back. “Can you wait here, please, while I get my money,” she added to me, “and then would you mind coming to see my mother with me? I don’t think I can explain it to her by myself.”
“Not at all,” I said politely, giving her an encouraging smile.
After Jill had gone, Lucy said, “All I can say is that Mr. Thayer didn’t want you here, and what he would say if he could see you-”
“Well, we both know he can’t,” I interrupted. “However, if he had been able to explain-to me or to anyone else-what was on his mind, he would very likely be alive this morning.
“Look. I like Jill and I’d like to help her out. She called me this morning not because she has the faintest idea of what I can do for her as a private detective, but because she feels I’m supporting her. Don’t you think she gets left out around here?”
Lucy looked at me sourly. “Maybe so, Miss Detective, maybe so. But if Jill had any consideration for her mother, maybe she’d get a little consideration back.”
“I see,” I said dryly. Jill came back downstairs.
“Your mother is waiting for you,” Lucy reminded her sharply.
“I know!” Jill yelled. “I’m coming.” She handed me a dollar, and I gravely wrote out a receipt on a scrap of paper from my handbag. Lucy watched the whole thing angrily, her lips shut in a thin line. We then retraced the route I’d taken Saturday through the long hall. We passed the library door and went clear to the back of the house.
Lucy opened the door to a room on the left, saying, “Here she is, Mrs. Thayer. She’s got some terrible detective with her who’s trying to take money from her. Mr. Thayer threw her out of the house on Saturday, but now she’s back.”
A patrolman standing beside the door gave me a startled look.
“Lucy!” Jill stormed. “That’s a lie.” She pushed her way past the disapproving figure into the room. I stood behind Lucy, looking over her shoulder. It was a delightful room, completely windows on three sides. It overlooked the lake out the east side, and a beautiful lawn, complete with a grass tennis court, on the north. It was furnished with white bamboo furniture with cheerful color accents in reds and yellows in the cushions, lamp bases, and floor covering. A profusion of plants gave it a greenhouse effect.
In the middle of this charming setting was Mrs. Thayer. Even with no makeup and a few tearstains, she was very handsome, easily recognizable as the original of the picture in yesterday’s Herald-Star. A very pretty young woman, an older edition of Jill, sat solicitously on one side of her, and a handsome young man in a polo shirt and checked trousers sat across from her, looking a little ill-at-ease.
“Please, Jill, I don’t understand a word you or Lucy are saying, but don’t shout, darling, my nerves absolutely won’t stand it.”
I moved past Lucy into the room and went over to Mrs. Thayer’s couch. “Mrs. Thayer, I’m very sorry about your husband and your son,” I said. “My name is V. I. Warshawski. I’m a private detective. Your daughter asked me to come up here this morning to see if I could help out.”
The young man answered, sticking his jaw out. “I’m Mrs. Thayer’s son-in-law, and I think I can safely say that if my father-in-law threw you out of the house on Saturday, that you’re probably not wanted here.”
“Jill, did you call her?” the young woman asked, shocked.
“Yes, I did,” Jill answered, setting her jaw mulishly. “And you can’t throw her out, Jack: it’s not your house. I asked her to come up, and I’ve hired her to find out who killed Daddy and Pete. She thinks the same person did it both times.”
“Really, Jill,” the other woman said, “I think we can leave this to the police without upsetting Mother by bringing in hired detectives.”
“Just what I tried telling her, Mrs. Thorndale, but of course she wouldn’t listen.” That was Lucy, triumphant.
Jill’s face was screwed up again, as if she were going to cry. “Take it easy, honey,” I said. “Let’s not get everyone more worked up than they are already. Why don’t you tell me who’s who?”
“Sorry,” she gulped. “This is my mother, my sister, Susan Thorndale, and her husband, Jack. And Jack thinks because he can boss Susan around he can do that to me, but-”
“Steady, Jill,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Susan’s face was pink. “Jill, if you hadn’t been spoiled rotten all these years you would show a little respect to someone like Jack who has a lot more experience than you do. Do you have any idea what people are going to be saying about Daddy, the way he was killed and all? Why, why it looks like a gang killing, and it makes Daddy look as if he was involved with the gang.” Her voice rose to a high pitch on the last sentence.
“Mob,” I said. Susan looked at me blankly. “It looks like a mob killing. Some gangs may go in for that style of execution, but usually they don’t have the resources.”
“Now look here,” Jack said angrily. “We’ve already asked you to leave. Why don’t you go, instead of showing off your smart mouth! Like Susan said, it’s going to be hard enough explaining away the way Mr. Thayer died, without having to explain why we got a private detective involved as well.”
“Is that all you care about?” Jill cried. “What people will say? With Pete dead, and Daddy dead?”
“No one is sorrier than me that Peter was shot,” Jack said, “but if he had done what your father wanted and lived in a proper apartment, instead of that slummy dump with that slut of a girl, he would never have been shot in the first place.”
“Oh!” Jill screamed. “How can you talk about Peter that way! He was trying to do something warm and real instead of-You’re such a fake. All you and Susan care about is how much money you make and what the neighbors will say! I hate you!” She ended on another flood of tears and flung herself into my arms. I gave her a hug and wrapped my right arm around her while I fished in my bag for some tissues with the left.
“Jill,” her mother said in a soft, complaining voice, “Jill, honey, please don’t shout like that in here. My nerves just absolutely cannot take it. I’m just as sorry as you are that Petey is dead, but Jack is right, honey: if he’d listened to your father all this wouldn’t have happened, and your father wouldn’t be-be…” Her voice broke off and she started weeping quietly.