“I am not afraid for myself,” Willett said quietly, “but for her. She’s ill. The least shock might be fatal.”
“So far she’s proved pretty durable. That case of Scotch didn’t go up in smoke. Nor, for that matter, do ordinary invalids take off in the middle of the night and disappear. No, Mr. Goodfield,” he added with a sardonic smile, “I don’t think a shock is going to kill her.”
“It’s useless to argue with you.”
“Quite useless. Every policeman in town is looking for your mother, has been since this morning.”
“I see. Well, in that case, there’s nothing more to say.”
“Not on that score.” Greer leaned across the desk and spoke into the com box. “Daley? Come in here, will you?”
A minute later Daley appeared, a pink-cheeked, blue-eyed young man with an air of gentleness that made him irresistible to women and infuriated his wife. “Yes sir?”
“Take Mr. Goodfield in to see Miss Dalloway. See that they’re left alone.”
“Alone? You mean—”
“I mean, alone.”
“I heard you, sir. Only it seems to me that it would be contrary to official reg—”
“Daley, when you get to be a Captain, you may run this place the way you want to. Meanwhile.”
“Meanwhile, yes sir.”
Willett followed Daley through the side door, glancing back over his shoulder as if he wanted to change his mind and go home again.
Frank crossed to the window and threw his cigarette out onto the patch of lawn below. “I agree with Daley. You’re being extraordinarily lenient.”
“I’m generous. I want them to have a nice heart-to-heart chat.”
“Have you got the cell wired?”
“No. If they speak up clearly I can hear them through the wall, but something tells me they’re not going to. Be quiet and listen.”
Frank listened. He heard the sharp clank of the cell door as it opened and closed again, and then Daley’s voice: “I’m afraid I’ll have to lock it, sir”... “There’s no danger of fire, everything’s fireproofed”... “Yes sir, I know you’re a taxpayer. So am I.” A silence, followed by Lora Dalloway’s voice, brisk and incisive: “When are you going to get over pulling that taxpayer routine? Every boy with a paper route is a taxpayer in this day and age.”
“Goddam you,” Willett said. “Where is she?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Tell me or I swear I’ll—”
“Don’t swear anything. My patience is thin. So are the walls. That cop isn’t as fatheaded as he looks. I was put in this cell because his office is right next to it. I heard you when you came in, so he can hear us now. Understand?”
Willett apparently understood. Although he began talking again, his words were indistinct, mere nonsense syllables like a speech played backward on a tape recording.
“Let them talk,” Greer said, sounding relaxed and contented. “They should have lots to say to each other. Then it’ll be my turn.”
“Greer—”
“How’s Miriam?”
“Fine,” Frank said. “Listen—”
“And the boys?”
“Fine.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Greer, I don’t think you should leave those two alone together in there without even trying to find out what they’re talking about.”
“I know what they’re talking about. And I want them to be alone together. The cosier they get, the better.”
“What’s the gimmick?”
“Nature,” Greer said. “Human nature. That’s the gimmick.”
“See that it doesn’t explode.”
“Take two people who hate each other and mistrust each other and yet want something from each other and you get an explosion. Or a deal. I kind of think,” he added after a moment, “that it’ll be a deal.”
24
It was a deal.
Seven-thirty, and outside the window in Greer’s office hung the sea haze that preceded darkness. He pressed the wall switch and the fluorescent ceiling lights flickered on, giving Willett’s skin a moist, greenish phosphorescence.
“Sit down,” Greer said. “Finish your talk with Miss Dalloway?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” Willett sat down, first looking carefully at the chair as if he thought Frank or Greer might pull it out from under him. “A very satisfactory talk, as a matter of fact. Certain doubtful points were cleared up.”
“Indeed?”
“I was rather hasty in judging Miss Dalloway, I’m afraid. After giving the matter some thought I’m convinced that her part in this affair was the result of a mere girlish impulse.”
“Going after three thousand dollars tooth and nail is a little more than an impulse and Miss Dalloway is a little more than a girl.”
“I don’t propose to argue,” Willett said with a decisive shake of his head. “Miss Dalloway has explained everything to me and offered to make full restitution. Under the circumstances I refuse to prosecute or sign any complaint against her.”
“I see.”
“Furthermore, I refuse to appear in court as a witness against her.”
“And Mrs. Goodfield?”
“My wife will also refuse when I explain the situation.”
“What is the situation?”
“Miss Dalloway acted on impulse and is willing to repay the money.”
“She hasn’t got the money.” Greer smiled. “I have.”
“That’s merely a technicality. It’s not your money, it’s mine.”
“You may have to go to court to prove it, Mr. Goodfield.”
“That’s ridiculous, you know it’s my money.”
“How do I know? I got it from Dalloway.”
“It’s mine,” Willett repeated like a child. “It’s my money.”
“Would you be willing to tell a judge or jury just how you’re so sure that it’s yours?”
“I... no. No. It’s a private matter between Miss Dalloway and me.”
Greer didn’t argue the point. “So you’re convinced that Miss Dalloway should be let off and any charges against her dismissed?”
“What are the charges against her?”
“So far, none. I merely held her for questioning.”
“You’ve questioned her?”
“Yes.”
“Then she may leave?” Willett said. “You’re letting her go?”
“Sure. She can go.”
“Well, well, I must say that’s very decent of you, Captain, very civilized.”
“I’m as civilized as hell,” Greer said.
“Dear me, I’m quite overwhelmed. I didn’t expect such immediate cooperation.”
“I am also as immediate and cooperative as hell.”
“Ha, ha,” Willett said painfully. “I must tell that to Ethel. I... you’re not just fooling about releasing Miss Dalloway?”
“I’m not fooling, no, indeed. Of course, I’d like her to stay around town.”
“Oh, she will. Right at my house.”
“Good. I’ll go and tell Daley to get her things out of the safe.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Willett glanced rather timidly at Frank. “He’s rather a decent chap for a policeman.”
“Yes.”
“His taking such a reasonable attitude was quite a surprise to me.”
To me, too, Frank thought.
“You don’t suppose he’s got something up his sleeve?”
“Oh no, not at all.”
Willett was silent for a time. Then he said in a resigned voice, “I’m sure things will work out somehow.”
“What things?”
“Oh, everything. Life is very difficult, problems leaping out at you from all sides. Take a man, an ordinary chap like myself, nothing special about him one way or another, what’s he going to do when he finds himself in a spot?”
“Try to get out of it.”