“What were you waiting for?”
“To hear from Ethel. But we won’t go into that.” Her eyes shuttered themselves, and her pretty mouth became less pretty. “It’s my worry.”
“All right.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, or ungrateful. I thought I could hold out until I got to Los Angeles. I would have, too, if you hadn’t broken me down with kindness.”
“Forget about my kindness. I hope there’s a job waiting for you in Los Angeles. Or maybe a husband?”
“No.” The idea of a husband, or possibly a job, appealed to her sense of humor. She giggled like a schoolgirl. “You have one more guess.”
“Okay. You flunked out of school, and couldn’t face the family.”
“You’re half right. But I’m still enrolled at Berkeley, and I have no intention of flunking out. I’m doing very well in my courses.”
“What are you taking?”
“Psychology and sociology, mostly. I plan to be a psychiatric social worker.”
“You don’t look the type.”
“I am, though.” The signs of early frost showed on her face again. I couldn’t keep up with her moods. She was suddenly very serious. “I’m interested in helping people in trouble. I’ve seen a great deal of trouble. And so many people need help in the modern world.”
“You can say that again.”
Her clear gaze came up to my face. “You’re interested in people, too, aren’t you? Are you a doctor, or a lawyer?”
“What gave you that idea?”
“You mentioned a fee you earned, a thousand-dollar fee. It sounded as if you were a professional man.”
“I don’t know if you’d call my job a profession. I’m a private detective. My name is Archer.”
Her reaction was disconcerting. She gripped the edge of the table with her hands, and pushed herself away from it. She said in a whisper as thin and sharp as a razor:
“Did Edward hire you? To spy on me?”
“Of course. Naturally. It’s why I mentioned the fact that I’m a detective. I’m very cunning. And who in hell is Edward?”
“Edward Illman.” She was breathing fast. “Are you sure he didn’t employ you to pick me – to contact me? Cross your heart?”
The colored waiter edged towards our table, drawn by the urgent note in her voice. “Anything the matter, lady?”
“No. It’s all right, thank you. The sandwiches were fine.”
She managed to give him a strained smile, and he went away with a backward look.
“I’ll make a clean breast of everything,” I said. “Edward employed me to feed you drugged sandwiches. The kitchen staff is in my pay, and you’ll soon begin to feel the effects of the drug. After that comes the abduction, by helicopter.”
“Please. You mustn’t joke about such things. I wouldn’t put it past him, after what he did to Ethel.”
“Ethel?”
“My sister, my older sister. Ethel’s a darling. But Edward doesn’t think so. He hates her – he hates us both. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s responsible for all this.”
“All what?” I said. “We seem to be getting nowhere. Obviously you’re in some sort of a bind. You want to tell me about it, I want to hear about it. Now take a deep breath and start over, from the beginning. Bear in mind that I don’t know these people from Adam. I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m sorry, my name is Clare Larrabee.” Dutifully, she inhaled. “I’ve been talking like a silly fool, haven’t I? It’s because I’m so anxious about Ethel. I haven’t heard from her for several weeks. I have no idea where she is or what’s happened to her. Last week, when my allowance didn’t come, I began to get really worried. I phoned her house in West Hollywood and got no answer. Since then I’ve been phoning at least once a day, with never an answer. So finally I swallowed my pride and got in touch with Edward. He said he hasn’t seen her since she went to Nevada. Not that I believe him, necessarily. He’d just as soon lie as tell the truth. He perjured himself right and left when they arranged the settlement.”
“Let’s get Edward straight,” I said. “Is he your sister’s husband?”
“He was. Ethel divorced him last month. And she’s well rid of him, even if he did cheat her out of her fair share of the property. He claimed to be a pauper, practically, but I know better. He’s a very successful real estate operator – you must have heard of the Illman Tracts.”
“This is the same Illman?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Not personally. I used to see his name in the columns. He’s quite a Casanova, isn’t be?”
“Edward is a dreadful man. Why Ethel ever married him… Of course she wanted security, to be able to send me to college, and everything. But I’d have gone to work, gladly, if I could have stopped the marriage. I could see what kind of a husband he’d make. He even had the nerve to make a – make advances to me at the wedding reception.” Her mouth pouted out in girlish indignation.
“And now you’re thinking he had something to do with your sister’s disappearance?”
“Either that, or she did away with – No, I’m sure it’s Edward. He sounded so smug on the long distance telephone yesterday, as if he’d just swallowed the canary. I tell you, that man is capable of anything. If something’s happened to Ethel, I know who’s responsible.”
“Probably nothing has. She could have gone off on a little trip by herself.”
“You don’t know Ethel. We’ve always kept in close touch, and she’s been so punctual with my allowance. She’d never dream of going away and leaving me stranded at school without any money. I held out as long as I could, expecting to hear from her. When I got down below twenty dollars, I decided to take the train home.”
“To Ethel’s house in West Hollywood?”
“Yes. It’s the only home I have since Daddy passed away. Ethel’s the only family I have. I couldn’t bear to lose Ethel.” Her eyes filmed with tears.
“Do you have taxi fare?”
She shook her head, shamefaced.
“I’ll drive you out. I don’t live far from there myself. My car’s stashed in a garage near Union Station.”
“You’re being good to me.” Her hand crept out across the tablecloth and pressed the back of mine. “Forgive me for saying those silly things, about Edward hiring you.”
I told her that would be easy.
We drove out Sunset and up into the hills. Afternoon was changing into evening. The late sunlight flashed like intermittent searchlights from the western windows of the hillside apartment buildings. Clare huddled anxiously in the far corner of the seat. She didn’t speak, except to direct me to her sister’s house.
It was a flat-roofed building set high on a sloping lot. The walls were redwood and glass, and the redwood had not yet weathered gray. I parked on the slanting blacktop drive and got out. Both stalls of the carport under the house were empty. The draperies were pulled over the picture windows that overlooked the valley.
I knocked on the front door. The noise resounded emptily through the building. I tried it. It was locked. So was the service door at the side.
I turned to the girl at my elbow. She was clutching the handle of her overnight bag with both hands, and looking pinched again. I thought that it was a cold homecoming for her.
“Nobody home,” I said.
“It’s what I was afraid of. What shall I do now?”
“You share this house with your sister?”
“When I’m home from school.”
“And it belongs to her?”
“Since the divorce it does.”
“Then you can give me permission to break in.”
“All right. But please don’t damage anything if you can help it. Ethel is very proud of her house.”