Below the message Virgil had drawn three horizontal lines in red.
A little after four that afternoon Joyce Pratt called Ellen long distance. “My dear, I’ve wanted to talk to you before this,” she said, “but in view of the circumstances I felt you would like to be by yourself for a little while.”
“That was very thoughtful of you,” Ellen replied.
“As you know, your uncle and I were very close and dear friends for many years; he spoke of you so much that I feel I know you very well. I think now we should meet and have a chance to really get to know each other.”
“I’d be happy to do that,” Ellen said. Her comment was more courtesy than truth. She also was aware that Mrs. Pratt had organized the Roussel holding company and was a stockholder, a circumstance that made a meeting almost a necessity.
“Do come and have dinner with me tomorrow,” Joyce invited. “I have tickets for the Hollywood Bowl. Do you like music?”
Ellen considered quickly. Her parents were back with the car, so she could go if she really wanted to. And, she thought, since she would have to face up to her new responsibilities soon, she might as well begin now. Determined that she would not allow herself to be panicked into anything, she accepted the invitation. If everything went well, fine; if it did not, she could call either Walter McCormack, whom she already trusted, or possibly Virgil Tibbs.
Then she remembered that Tibbs was a policeman, pure and simple, and she could hardly call upon him to help her solve her personal problems-and her financial problems were personal.
At that moment the phone rang again. She brushed her hair aside and put the instrument against her ear. “Pine Shadows Lodge,” she said.
“This is Virgil Tibbs, Miss Boardman, how are you?”
“Very well, thank you.”
Now, was he going to invite her somewhere?
“I called to tell you that Mr. McCormack has informed me of his visit with you this morning, and the purpose behind it.”
“Yes.”
“I want to ask for your close cooperation, because it is very important. Let me stress that-very important.”
“I understand,” she said.
“Good. Will you please call me immediately, collect, if anything whatever happens concerning your new status. For instance, I want to know if anyone else comes to see you-if anyone calls you-who might have any possible connection with the matter we are both interested in. I don’t care if you call me a dozen times a day, I want to know at once anything and everything that happens. Is that perfectly clear?”
“Yes, it is. I can give you a report right now, if you would like.”
“Please.”
“George Nunn called me this morning and invited me to a dance at his parents’ lodge this evening. I accepted.” A sudden thought came to her. “It will be dressed, of course,” she added hastily.
“Naturally. I see no reason why you shouldn’t go. Is that all?”
“No. Mrs. Joyce Pratt called me. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I do. Go ahead.”
“She phoned just a little while ago. She said that in view of the circumstances we ought to meet. She asked me for dinner tomorrow and said she had tickets for the Hollywood Bowl.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes, I am.” She hesitated, and made up her mind. “May I ask you something?”
“What would you like to know?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t ask you this, and if that’s the case I’m sorry, but is there any progress in-the matter that concerns us both?”
There was silence for a few moments on the line; then the answer came. “Yes, Miss Boardman, there is. If I trust you, will you respect my confidence?”
“Most certainly.”
“Very well, then. Not to be repeated to anyone, I will tell you this much: I am confident I know what happened, why, and who was responsible.”
“You know who?” Ellen asked, her voice tight.
“Yes, I know. But knowing and proving are two entirely different things. I am still gathering proof. If you say one word of this to anyone, you might make the job infinitely harder.”
“You can trust me,” Ellen said. “Is the danger all past?”
There was another slight pause. “No, Miss Boardman, I wouldn’t say that it is. That is why I want you to keep me continually informed of your movements.”
For the next few hours Ellen Boardman lived in a thick haze. The hand of murder, which had struck her uncle, now seemed to be groping toward her. She saw again the cold still face lying on the slab in San Bernardino and she had a sudden urge to flee somewhere and hide. She was not a coward, but all her life she had avoided trouble simply by not inviting it. Now trouble was being forced upon her and she felt inadequate and defenseless. She thought of canceling her engagement for the evening, then remembered that Virgil Tibbs had told her he saw no reason why she shouldn’t go.
How far, she wondered, could she trust his assurances? But then she recalled how he had anticipated her thoughts about visiting George’s parents, and she felt a little easier. She would have to trust him. If he was not competent, then his superiors would never have assigned him to handle the case.
When George came to pick her up, she was ready. As they drove down the mountain in the dying light of what had been another lovely day, she still could not relax the unrelenting parade of her thoughts. But out of the bewilderment that surrounded her, one clear and welcome idea emerged: it couldn’t have been George or Virgil Tibbs would never have approved their being together now. She did not want it to be George. Despite his odd background, she knew that she liked him and was enjoying his company.
Sun Valley Lodge, when they arrived, seemed just like any other resort where a dance was taking place. In what George described as the clubhouse she found a sizable crowd, a six-piece orchestra, and a pattern of paper decorations overhead that helped to create a holiday atmosphere. When Linda came to greet them, smiling and thoroughly attractive in a powder-blue dance dress, Ellen determined to put everything else out of her mind and enjoy herself as she wanted to do.
In George’s arms she danced and was happy. Each time the music stopped, there was someone new to be her next partner. She warmed to the atmosphere and to the friendly people; she was feeling totally rid of the problems that had plagued her when Linda appeared with a couple in tow.
“Ellen, this is Amiko and Bob,” Linda introduced. In a few moments Ellen was dancing smoothly with the first Nisei who had ever taken her out onto a dance floor. She liked him immediately and smiled at him as they danced. “I’m glad to see you so relaxed and happy, Miss Boardman,” he said, smiling back at her.
Every muscle in her body tightened; she had never met him before and had been introduced only as Ellen. Mechanically she kept her feet moving, but the rhythm was gone.
Her companion sensed the abrupt change and responded to it “I’m Bob Nakamura,” he explained. “Pasadena police. I’m Virgil Tibbs’ partner.”
She relaxed a little, as much as she could. “Did he send you?” she asked.
Bob nodded. “The Nunn family knows all about it. As far as the rest are concerned, we’re prospective members. And please don’t let it alarm you, but we’re going to keep a pretty close eye on you for the next few days. Until after the board meeting.”
“But that’s about two weeks away,” Ellen reminded him.
“Perhaps not. Virgil is seeing McCormack this evening to try and get it moved up-to force someone’s hand, if you follow me.”
Ellen felt a strange and frightening feeling in the bottom of her stomach. “Am I to be a guinea pig?” she asked.
“No, we wouldn’t do that to you-not if we could help it, at any rate. Virgil has something going and he wants to get a certain person off balance, as I told you.”