Wondering what she could be doing on the deserted quay at this hour, Jay watched her.
The girl glanced at him as she paused at the edge of the quay, then squatting down, she took hold of a mooring rope and began to draw an open boat, equipped with an outboard motor, close to the quay.
Seeing she intended to get into the boat, Jay got to his feet and walked over to where she was squatting.
“May I help you, mademoiselle?” he asked, pausing beside the girl.
She looked up. The moonlight fell directly on her face. He was struck by the clearness and brightness of her eyes. She gave him a half smile, shaking her head.
“I can manage, monsieur, thank you.”
There was a trace of the Midi accent in her voice.
He reached down and took hold of the rope.
“I’ll hold it steady,” he said.
“Thank you.”
She slid down into the boat.
He watched her as she took the waterproof hood off the outboard engine.
“Are you going out at this hour?” he asked.
“Yes. In a quarter of an hour the tide will be just right.”
“For what?”
“For fishing, of course.”
“You are going fishing alone?”
“Of course.”
He was struck by her matter-of-fact, independent air. He watched her wind the cord around the starting wheel. By the way she pulled the cord, swinging the wheel, he saw she had more strength than he had thought.
After three attempts, the engine failed to start and she gave an exclamation of annoyance.
“The points are probably dirty,” he said. “I’ll clean them for you.”
She shook her head.
“It’s all right, thank you, monsieur. I can do it. You would get dirty.” She began to hunt in a locker for tools. “Have you just come from the cinema?”
“Yes. Look, I don’t mind getting dirty. I’d like to help you.”
“No, please. I can manage. Was the film good?”
“Not very. The photography was excellent, but the rest of it bored me.”
She found a screwdriver and began to loosen the screws holding the engine cover in place.
“Are you something to do with the movies?” she asked.
“Well, I suppose so. I’m learning.”
“You speak French very well for an American.”
He was pleased and flattered.
“I spent two years in Paris. Are you sure I can’t help you?”
“It’s all right, thank you. It must be interesting to work in the movies. I’d like to work in a Studio. Do you know many of the Stars?”
“A few.”
She paused in her work, looking up at him.
“Did you ever meet James Dean? I have a signed photo of him at home. I think he was wonderful. Did you ever meet him?”
“No.” Jay squatted on the edge of the quay. “Do you often go fishing at night?”
“Whenever the tide is right.”
“It must be fun.”
She shook her head emphatically.
“It isn’t. It is often disappointing. You see, I sell what I catch. We need the money.”
“But surely you can’t make much out of a night’s fishing.”
“I don’t, but every little helps. My father is a cripple He has a café in Rue Foch. It isn’t a very successful café, so I have to try to add to our income.”
“Do you also work in the café?”
“Of course.”
“And you fish at night?”
“Yes, when the tide is right.”
“It sounds as if you work very hard.”
She smiled.
“I do, but I don’t mind. Do you have to work hard too?”
“Sometimes.”
He wondered how she would react if he told her his father was Floyd Delaney. He had an idea that it would be a mistake to tell her.
She attracted him and interested him. He liked her easy natural way of talking. She didn’t pose and he felt she was sincere.
“What is your name, mademoiselle?” he asked.
She was screwing down the engine cover and she looked up pausing in her work.
“Ginette Bereut. What is yours?”
Jay hesitated.
“Jay Mandrel,” he said, giving his mother’s maiden name.
“Are you down here for long?” she asked as she wound the cord around the starting wheel.
“Three or four days, then I’m going on to Venice.”
“Venice? I’d love to go there. Is it to do with a film?”
“Yes. We’re shooting background material.”
“Well, I mustn’t stay here talking... ”
She pulled the cord sharply and the engine fired. She made motions to him to cast off the rope and reluctantly he pulled the end of the rope free, coiled it and tossed it into the boat.
She smiled, nodding her thanks.
Then, as the boat began to move away, Jay straightened up-right. He watched her steer the boat towards the harbor entrance.
He suddenly wished he had asked her if he could have gone with her and he was angry with himself for thinking of this too late.
He looked at his watch. The time was half-past one. He wondered when she would return. He had still two hours to wait before he need return to the Plaza. He decided to sit there a little longer in the hope of seeing her again.
As he sat on the bollard, looking across the harbour, waiting to hear the distant engine beat that would tell him the girl was returning, he began to flick the blue beads he had in his pocket far out into the water.
Chapter V
I
Floyd Delaney drove his big Bentley along the Moyenne Corniche with Sophia at his side.
The dinner at the Ch?teau de Madrid had been impeccable; the croustade de langouste, the restaurant’s specialty, delicious, the van Asters amusing, the magnificent aerial view of the harbour of Villefranche and the twinkling lights of Cap Ferrat like fairyland and the Ausone 1947 had been the finest wine he had tasted.
Delaney told himself he should feel content and relaxed, but he didn’t. He felt edgy and irritable and the wretched little Citro?n hogging the road ahead of him, preventing him from passing, infuriated him.
He drove the Bentley to within a foot of the Citro?n’s rear bumper, then putting the palm of his hand down hard on the button that operated the triple air-horns, he blasted the crawling car almost off the road.
He shot the Bentley past the Citro?n and stormed on down the long hill into Nice.
Why wasn’t he relaxed? he asked himself.
He glanced sideways at Sophia. She sat motionless, her face expressionless. Was there something wrong? Usually she was so vivacious, talkative and entertaining? To-night she had been silent and withdrawn and whenever he had looked at her he had been disturbed to see how hard her eyes were and there was a thrust to her chin that he hadn’t noticed before, giving her an almost aggressive look.
This bothered him. He was used to her solicitous attention. His wishes were her wishes, his needs her needs, but to-night it was as if he didn’t exist.
“Have you something on your mind, baby?” he asked abruptly as he slowed the car to negotiate the round-about by the harbour.
Sophia continued to stare ahead, paying no attention.
“Hey! What’s the matter with you?” Delaney demanded, raising his voice. “Did you hear what I said?”
Sophia started and looked at him, then she smiled.
“Sorry, darling. I was thinking. What was it?”
Delaney frowned.
“You seem to have something on your mind. What’s biting you? You’ve been dreamy all the evening.”
All the evening Sophia’s mind had been haunted by the thought of the dead girl in Jay’s cupboard. The more she thought about what had happened the more angry she had become. To think that because Jay had thirsted for an exciting experience, this young, pretty girl, beginning a successful career, should now be a lifeless lump of clay in the bottom of a cupboard.