Jeffs brown eyes were instantly attentive. "How do you know?"
"I saw them. I have brought Sefior Baker to the hotel and have asked if he will need me. He says he is not sure but then he decides it might be well for me to wait. I am parked there where the taxis line up—that is how I notice you, though I do not know who you are—and I see Grayson arrive and then very soon comes this car with Mrs. Grayson driving."
He made a small gesture of apology. "I do not think about this at the time. I do not think about it later. Not until this morning do I wonder why they have come/" He started to add to his apology and Jeff cut him off.
"This would be around seven thirty?"
"About that."
"What happened?' 7
"The woman remained in the car. Fiske started toward the hotel, not by the front, but to the left, around the corner where the grass is and the pool; on the side where your room Is. One can also enter the hotel from there."
"How long did he stay?"
Cordovez opened his hands and sighed. "I cannot say. At the time it did not concern me. A few minutes before you arrive they have gone."
"That could be around eight o'clock."
<«TJ * "i t »>
It is possible.
Jeff let it go at that because he could think of nothing to add. They went back to the car and once under way Cordovez proved to be an informative guide. He seemed
to find enjoyment in pointing out the signs of progress in Ms home city, and Jeff listened absently to the miming commentary.
He was told that Los Caobos Park, once a dangerous spot after dark, had been thoroughly cleaned out and was lighted at night. He heard the names of the streets each time Cordovez made a turn. When a modem-looking stadium caught his eye he asked about it and was told that it was the baseball park. A similar structure near by brought forth the information that this was Estadio olimpico.
"For football/' Cordovez said and then, pointing a moment to his left, he indicated a new-looking building which stood by itself. "Creole Petroleum/' he said. "You have heard of this?"
"Hah/ ? said Jeff with some irony. "I just wish I'd bought a few hundred shares five years ago. Even three years ago/*
"This company has brought much money for this country " Cordovez said as he turned into a broad freeway where traffic moved swiftly.
"Autopista? he said. "Avenida de la Mercedes/ 5 he added, when he cut right; and then, after another right, they were going uphill, to stop finally in front of an attractively landscaped house that in the States would have fallen into the ranch-type category. *1 will wait/' he said. "It will be difficult for you to find a taxi here."
A brown-skinned maid took Jeffs name and left him in the entrance hall. The woman who came presently to meet him was slender, poised, and smart-looking, her prematurely gray hair adding to the over-all picture of attractiveness. Her smile seemed automatic as she greeted him and said she was Diana Grayson. She shook hands like a man and led the way into a long, low, cool-looking room that overlooked a wide expanse of well-kept lawn surrounded by a hedge.
She sat down on the divan and took a cigarette from the
silver box on the coffee table, tapping it with nervous staccato movements on the back of her hand before she accepted the light Jeff offered. She inhaled deeply and crossed her legs.
"Arnold said you might stop/' she said. "I'm sorry he's not here. In fact, I don't know where he is."
"But you know why I came?"
"Oh, yes. He told me that much/'
"And do you know if he plans—"
She held up her hand to interrupt him. Her smile was twisted and her voice was brittle. In its forthright way it had somehow a savage quality, as though something had been gnawing inside her until there could no longer be any need for pretense.
"I think I could save time if I told you I haven't known what Arnold's plans are or what he's been thinking for quite a while. I've been married to him for three years and frankly, Mr. Lane, I'm heartily sick of my bargain."
Jeff blinked at her words and found them embarrassing. "You—don't get along?"
"That's one way of putting it."
"You married him in Las Vegas."
"As the result of an emotional rebound, I suppose," she said. "My Brst husband was a very nice guy, but he was a drunkard and a weakling. Arnold was never that. I was completely taken in by his charm, and it was a relief to have someone who could make decisions and who made me fee! like a woman and not like a nurse. It took me a year to find out that I had been swindled emotionally and economically by that part-time charm."
"But," said Jeff, a little startled by the outburst, "yon stayed with him."
"Oh, yes." She leaned forward and put her cigarette out by jabbing it forcibly into the metal tray. "Yes, I stayed with him," she said, her soft laugh a bitter sound. "I could
have gone back to the States if I'd wanted to go empty-handed. I could have got a divorce there but I doubt if you could extradite a man for alimony, could you?
"I had a lump-sum settlement from my first husband. When we came here to make our fortunes I was still in love, or thought I was. Arnold made some investments. He told me all about them when 1 signed the checks. The trouble was that the bad ones always turned out to be in my name and the good ones in his. Now, except for some jewelry my first husband gave me, I'm practically penniless, and I have no intention of walking out and making it easier for him—not unless I can get a decent settlement ™
She did not explain what she meant by making it easier, but her glance moved beyond Jeff and remained there, Then, for the first time, her expression changed and her smile seemed genuinely friendly,
"Come in, Dudley," she said.
Lane turned. When he saw the man who had entered the room he stood up.
"This is Mr. Lane/' she said. "Dudley Fiske"
Fiske said: "Hello, Mr. Lane," and offered a chubby hand. A stocky, round-faced roan with thinning sandy hair and glasses, he had a quiet, pleasant manner, but Jeff's first Impression was that his personality was neutral and that his easy smile came perhaps too easily.
"Sit down, Dudley,** the woman said. "Mr, Lane was asking about Arnold's plans/' she added as he took a place beside her, "and I was telling him I was afraid I couldn't help*
"Did you know about the money he took from the West-wind Hotel?" Jeff said, deciding he might as well give the question a try.
He watched the smile go away and the mouth tighten again. "Not until a few days ago," she said. "I wish I had. . . . No/* she said. "All I knew was that he was in an awful
hurry to get out of the country after we were married. I wondered at the time what made him so nervous and jumpy. . . . How much will his inheritance amount to?"
Jeff said he was not sure. It would depend on the price of the stock. "Possibly between four and five hundred thousand."
"Dollars?"
He nodded and said: "I suppose you knew he sold some property the other day."
She glanced at Fiske and then away. "About all he owned," she said thinly, "'except for this house."
Jeff hesitated, trying to feel his way along and unable yet to make up his mind about Fiske, who kept watching the woman with an approving smile and something in his eyes that said he was very much sold on what he saw.
"You came down here as Arnold's assistant, Mr. Fiske?" Jeff said.
"That was what I thought," Fiske said, and smiled again. "My trouble/' he added with surprising candor, "was that I had a very bad case of adolescent hero-worship and I was a long time outgrowing it. 1 knew Arnold during his last year in prep school and picked the same college, because he did, though when they kicked him out I stayed put.