‘A few days before they were married, I think. No, wait, it was on New Year’s Eve, that’s right. He quit then.’
‘Then he wasn’t selling tickets on the day of...”
Anne looked at him strangely. ‘The day of what?’
‘The day he was married,’ Davis said quickly.
‘No, he wasn’t.’ She continued looking at him, and then asked. ‘How do you happen to know Tony, Mr. Davis?’
‘Oh, the Army,’ Davis said. ‘The last war, you know.’
‘That’s quite a feat,’ Anne said.
‘Huh?’ Davis looked up.
‘Tony was in the Navy.’
Once again, he felt like a damn fool. He cursed the crashed plane, and he cursed George Ellison, and he cursed the stupidity that had led him to take the job in the first place. He sighed deeply.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I guess I pulled a bloomer.’
Anne Trimble stared at him coldly. ‘Maybe you’d better get out, Mr. Davis. If that’s your name.’
‘It’s my name. Look,’ he said, ‘I’m a private eye. I’m investigating the crash for my client. I thought...’
‘What crash?’
‘A DC-4 took a dive in Seattle. My client’s daughter was aboard her when she went down. There was also a bomb aboard.’
‘Is this another one of your stories?’
Davis lifted his right hand. ‘God’s truth, s’help me. I’m trying to find whoever put the bomb aboard.’
‘And you think Tony did?’
‘No, I didn’t say that. But I’ve got to investigate all the possibilities.’
Anne suddenly smiled. ‘Are you new at this business?’
‘No. I’ve been at it a long time now. This case is a little out of my usual line.’
‘You called yourself a private eye. Do private eyes really call themselves that? I thought that was just for the paperback trade.’
‘I’m afraid we really do,’ Davis said. ‘Private Investigator, shortened to Private I, and then naturally to private eye.’
‘It must be exciting.’
‘Well, I’m afraid it’s usually deadly dull.’ He rose and said, ‘Thanks very much for your time, Miss Trimble. I’m sorry I got to see you on a ruse, but...’
‘You should have just asked. ‘I’m always willing to help the cause of justice.’ She smiled. ‘And I think you’d better take this money back.’
‘Well, thanks again,’ he said, taking the envelope.
‘Not at all,’ she said. She led him to the door, and shook his hand, and her grip was firm and warm. ‘Good luck.’
The door whispered shut behind him. He stood in the hallway for a few moments, sighed, and then made his way down to the courtyard and the street.
The time has come, he thought, to replenish the bank account. If Ellison expects me to chase hither and yon, then Ellison should also realize that I’m a poor boy, raised by the side of a railroad car. And if a trip to Vegas is in the offing... the time has come to replenish the bank account.
He thought no more about it. He hailed a cab for which Ellison would pay, and headed for the old man’s estate.
The butler opened the door and announced, ‘Mr. Davis, sir.’
Davis smiled at the butler and entered the room. It was full of plates and pitchers and cups and saucers and mugs and jugs and platters. For a moment Davis thought he’d wandered into the pantry by error, but then he saw Ellison seated behind a large desk.
Ellison did not look old, even though Davies knew he was somewhere in his seventies. He had led an easy life, and the rich are expert at conserving their youth. The only signs of age on Ellison were in his face. It was perhaps a bit too ruddy for good health, and it reminded him of MacGregor’s complexion — but Ellison was not a fat man. He had steel-grey hair cropped close to his head. His brows were black, in direct contrast to the hair on his head, and his eyes were a penetrating pale blue. Davis wondered from whom Janet had inherited her red hair, then let the thought drop when Ellison rose and extended his hand.
‘Ah, Davis, come in, come in.’
Davis walked to the desk, and Ellison took his hand in a tight grip.
‘Hope you don’t mind talking in here,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a new piece of porcelain, and I wanted to mount it.’
‘Not at all,’ Davis said.
‘Know anything about porcelain?’ Ellison asked.
‘Not a thing, sir.’
‘Pity. Volkstedt wouldn’t mean anything to you then, would it?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Or Rudolstadt? It’s more generally known as that.’
‘I’m afraid not, sir,’ Davis said.
‘Here now,’ Ellison said. ‘Look at this sauce boat.’
Davis looked.
‘This dates back to 1783, Davis. Here, look.’ He turned over the sauce boat, but he did not let it out of his hands. ‘See the crossed hayforks? That’s the mark, you know, shows it’s genuine stuff. Funny thing about this. The mark so resembles the Meissen crossed swords...’ He seemed suddenly to remember that he was not talking to a fellow connoisseur. He put the sauce boat down swiftly but gently. ‘Have you learned anything yet, Davis?’
‘A little, Mr. Ellison. I’m here mainly for money.’
Ellison looked up sharply and then began chuckling. ‘You’re frank, young man, aren’t you?’
‘I try to be,’ Davis said. ‘When it concerns money.’
‘How much will you need?’
‘A thousand will do it. I’ll probably be flying to Vegas and back, and I may have to spread a little money for information while I’m there.’
Ellison nodded briefly. ‘I’ll give you a cheque before you leave. What progress have you made, Davis?’
‘Not very much. Do you know a Tony Radner?’
Ellison looked up swiftly. ‘Why?’
‘He put your daughter on the DC-4, sir. Do you know him?’
Ellison’s mouth lengthened, and he tightened his fists on the desk top. ‘Has that son of a bitch got something to do with this?’ he asked.
‘Do you know him, sir?’
‘Of course I do! How do you know he put Janet on that plane?’
‘An eyewitness, sir.’
‘I’ll kill that bastard!’ Ellison shouted. ‘If he had anything to do with...’
‘How do you know him, Mr. Ellison?’
Ellison’s rage subsided for a moment. ‘Janet was seeing him,’ he said.
‘What do you mean, seeing him?’
‘She fancied herself to be in love with him,’ Ellison said. ‘He’s a no-good, Davis, a plain...’
‘You mean she wanted to marry him, rather than Carruthers?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean. I mean she was seeing Radner. After she and Nick were married. She... she had the supreme gall to tell me she wanted a divorce from Nick.’ Ellison clenched his hands and then relaxed them again. ‘You don’t know Nick, Davis. He’s a fine boy, one of the best. I feel toward him the way I’d feel toward my own son. I never had any boys, Davis, and Janet wasn’t much of a daughter.’ He paused. ‘I’m grateful I’ve still got Nick,’ he said.
‘Your daughter wanted to divorce Carruthers?’
‘Yes,’ Ellison said.
‘Did she tell Carruthers?’
‘Yes, she did. But I told her I’d cut her off without a penny if she did any such damn-fool thing. She changed her mind mighty fast after that. Janet was used to money, Davis. The idea of marrying a ticket seller didn’t appeal to her when she knew she’d have to do without it.’
‘So she broke it off with him?’
‘On the spot.’
‘When was this?’
‘About six months ago,’ Ellison said.
‘And she hadn’t seen him since?’
‘Not that I knew of. Now you tell me he put her on that plane. I don’t know what to think.’