Terrell returned to his chair and sat down.
‘Edris says not. I can imagine what you are thinking, Mr. Devon, but you mustn’t worry. If handled right, this story can be smothered. I have already talked to Brewer who is, I understand, a friend of yours. I’m pretty sure he will agree to keep both you and your daughter out of this. Besides, Browning is determined to have it hushed up and he has a lot of influence with the press.’
Devon appeared to relax a little.
‘But is it possible to hush it up? This man Edris is a bit of a character, isn’t he? He has often waited on me at the restaurant. There’s something about him I don’t exactly like. Is he to be trusted?’
‘He seems genuinely fond of your daughter. He said he would do whatever he could to keep her name out of this mess. I’m pretty sure you can rely on him.’
‘Do you know anything about him, Captain? I’m sure you realize that if we do manage to hush this up, I could be a perfect target for blackmail. If the story breaks, I would have to resign from the bank. I couldn’t continue to hold my present position here even though I haven’t associated with Muriel for seventeen years. The story is just too sordid.’
‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ Terrell said. ‘We have nothing against Edris. In fact, from what we learn, he has an excellent character.’
‘Then I’ll leave it all to you, Captain, most gratefully. You say Norena is coming back this morning?’
‘So Edris says. He thought you would want to see her as soon as possible.’
‘Of course.’ Devon turned and stared out of the window. ‘It’s hard to believe I now have a seventeen-year old daughter. I always wanted Norena. Taking her from me as Muriel did was the unkindest thing she ever did to me. It’s something I have never been able to forgive her for. I did everything I could to find Norena, but I had no luck. The search went on for over five years, then I gave up. I put her out of my mind.’ He frowned down at his hands. ‘It would have been fun watching her grow up. Now, it seems I have a grown-up daughter with her own ideas, her own way of life about which I know nothing.’ He looked up at Terrell who was now standing. ‘You don’t know anything about her, do you, Captain?’
‘Only what I’ve told you,’ Terrell said and took from his wallet the photograph of Ira Marsh that Edris had planted in Muriel’s bedroom. He put the photograph on the desk in front of Devon. ‘That’s your daughter. My congratulations. I’d say she’s worth the long wait.’
Devon stared at the photograph.
‘Yes, how like her mother she is! What’s Edris’ address?’
Terrell told him and gave him Edris’ telephone number.
‘Maybe you’d better telephone Edris first, Mr. Devon and let him know what you plan to do.’
Devon stared at the photograph again.
‘What I plan to do? It’s obvious, isn’t it? I want Norena to come home.’
Algir recognized her at once from the photograph Edris had shown him. She was sitting on a wooden bench at the Seacombe bus terminal, her hands between her knees. She was motionless, staring at a patch of oil left by a departing bus.
Although he was badly behind schedule, he stopped the car some yards from her and sitting back, he examined her. He knew from the photograph that she was attractive, but he hadn’t expected her to be so sensually exciting. As he continued to study her he saw by the hard set of her mouth and by the way she slouched on the bench that this was a teenager far in advance of her years who would look on a man his age as old and square whose good looks, charm and experience were as nothing compared with the brash vital energy of some young slob her own age.
Algir was afraid of youth. He was jealous of their vitality and dismayed by their arrogance. His shield that covered his shallowness was his looks and his charm and these, he knew, cut no ice with the young. With an impatient shrug, he got out of the car and walked over to where the girl was sitting.
‘Hello, Ira,’ he said, pausing before her. ‘Have you been waiting long?’
She stood up, her eyes travelling slowly from his shoes to his face, taking in every detail of his dress with a jeering contempt that angered him.
‘Too long. You’re late,’ she said, looking away from him.
Any kind of criticism invariably sent Algir into a rage. His face flushing, he resisted the urge to slap her. Instead, he grunted, turned and walked to where the Buick was parked. He slid under the steering wheel. When she was seated beside him, he started the engine and drove away from the bus terminal, heading for Edris’ apartment block.
She lit a cigarette, let smoke drift down her nostrils as she said, ‘I thought we were on a tight schedule. What happened to you then? Overslept?’
‘Relax with the mouth,’ Algir snapped. ‘When you’re with me, I do the talking, you listen. Right?’
She cocked her head on one side and studied him.
‘I wouldn’t have thought you had much worth saying. Still, if it’ll oil your ego, I’ll give it a try.’
The muscles in his face tightened.
‘Shut up! I don’t take that kind of talk from a brat like you!’
‘Is that right? Then who do you take it from?’
‘I said shut up, you bitch, unless you want me to shut you up!’
‘I thought that corny dialogue went out with Paul Muni. You go to the movies often?’
His face dark with rage, he called her an obscene name. He had hoped to shock her into silence, but instead, she laughed with genuine amusement.
‘Oh, that’s fab!’ she said. ‘You’re right out of a museum!’
Slightly increasing speed, he drove on, ignoring her and seething with rage. She studied his flushed face and the viciousness of his mouth and shrugged indifferently. She had never been afraid of men. She knew how to look after herself. She had often thought about fear, and after some heart searching, she had finally decided the only two things that could really frighten her were poverty and old age. To remain poor and become old were concrete three dimensional nightmares that truly frightened her. Nothing else, certainly not this big, flash looking dummy at her side.
Finally, when they reached Edris’ apartment block, Algir said, without looking at her, ‘Take the bag on the back seat and get out.’
She got out of the car, lifted the bag from the back seat and then paused to look at him.
‘You watch yourself, Jack,’ she said. ‘At your time of life it’s bad for your arteries to boil over the way you do, not that I care.’
With her ducktail walk, she moved into the lobby of the apartment block, her head held high, arrogant and very sure of herself.
Ticky Edris had been waiting her coming with feverish anxiety. As she rang on the front doorbell, he had been watching the clock on the overmantel with increasing impatience. It was 11.15 hours. Algir had telephoned at 10.30 hours. He had sounded nervy and that was understandable, but, at least, he had assured Ticky that so far, all had gone without a hitch.
‘You remembered to bring her clothes?’ Edris had demanded.
‘Yes. I tell you there’s nothing to worry about. I’m picking up Ira right now.’
‘Nothing to worry about?’ Edris’ voice was shrill. ‘That’s what you think! You’re more than half an hour late! I had to telephone Terrell. I was scared he would call the school. What made you so late?’
‘Never mind,’ Algir said curtly. ‘I’ll have her with you in half an hour.’
Now here she was, ringing on the front door bell. Edris bounced across the room, into the lobby and snatched open the front door.
‘Come in, come in,’ he urged. ‘Where’s Phil?’
‘We didn’t seem to like each other,’ the girl said, moving into the room. She looked around. ‘He went off as if he had swallowed a bee.’