‘Well, all right. It certainly looks bad.’
I went over to the telephone, dialled police headquarters and waited while the connection was made. I was aware of a cold, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was it. There was no turning back now. Once the cops were in, they would stay in to the end.
A hard voice that sounded like a handful of gravel being tossed against a concrete wall barked in my ear: ‘Police headquarters. What is it?’
I thought from now on I was going to hear voices like that: suspicious, barking voices that would probe and yell at me. From now on I was in the middle of it. There was no backing out now: no change of mind. It would be me against a bunch of hard-eyed, gritty-voiced policemen and as a make-weight, there would be Maddux.
Taking a deep, long breath, I began to talk.
Chapter Ten
Dester may have been a drunk and he may have been washed up in the movie business, but I quickly discovered that he was still an important figure in the eyes of the police.
I expected the desk sergeant, when I told him Dester and his wife had been missing for a couple of hours, would promise to inquire around at the hospitals and check the accident detail and let me know if he heard anything, but he shook me by saying he would send someone out to the house right away.
‘You’d better get dressed,’ I said to Marian. ‘We’re going to have visitors. There’s no news of an accident. It beats me what’s happened to them.’
Looking worried and a little scared, Marian left the lounge. I turned up Edwin Burnett’s number in the telephone book and called his house. I got him out of bed after a long delay and told him the news. He seemed pretty startled.
‘You say the police are coming over?’
‘That’s right. I thought maybe you’d want to be here.’
But he hedged. It was just after three o’clock, and I guessed he didn’t want to make the trip at that time in the morning.
‘You can handle it, can’t you, Nash? Give me a call at ten o’clock at my office and let me know what’s happening.’ He gave me the number. ‘It may be they have only had a breakdown. If the Press get on to you, don’t tell them anything.’
‘That’s easier said than done, Mr. Burnett,’ I said.
‘I know, but we’ve got to be careful not to embarrass Mrs. Dester.’
I suddenly heard the faint note of an approaching siren. The sound chilled me.
‘I think the police are arriving now. I’ll call you at ten,’ I said and hung up.
I crossed the hall and opened the front door just as the police car pulled up.
Two men got out, both in plain clothes. They came up the steps, and I stood aside to let them in.
One of them was a short, fat man with reddish hair, a fiery complexion and a mass of freckles. At a guess he was nudging forty-five or so. He had pale blue eyes that looked like blobs of frozen water. The other detective was taller, younger and dark, with a hatchet face and intent staring eyes.
‘Lieutenant Bromwich,’ the fat detective said, stabbing himself in the chest with his thumb. ‘Sergeant Lewis.’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the younger man. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Glyn Nash.’ I found my voice was a little husky. ‘I’m Mr. Dester’s majordomo.’
Bromwich screwed up his eyes. ‘Major — who?’
‘I look after Mr. Dester’s affairs, drive his car, help him dress: that sort of thing.’
Bromwich gave me a suspicious stare, then walked past me into the lounge. Lewis remained in the hall. I followed Bromwich, who sat down in a lounging chair, pushed his pork-pie hat to the back of his head and stared around the room, a little grimace on his red face.
‘How the rich live,’ he said as if speaking to himself. He pulled out a notebook, thumbed it to a blank page, produced a stub of pencil and then stared at me. ‘Let’s have it. What time did they leave?’
I told him; then I went on to tell him where they were going, how I happened to be out and got back just after they had gone, how I had to return to the Buick to fix it, how I had come back and waited for Mrs. Dester to return. I explained that I had dozed off and didn’t waken until Marian telephoned me. Then as soon as I realized the time and that Mrs. Dester hadn’t come back and that Dester hadn’t arrived at the sanatorium, I had called the police.
Bromwich sat listening, his face blank. He made no attempt to write anything in his notebook.
‘Where’s the girl?’ he asked when I had finished.
‘You mean Miss Temple?’
‘That’s who I mean.’
‘She’ll be down in a moment. She’s getting dressed.’
He crossed one fat leg over the other.
‘This guy Dester’s supposed to be in New York, isn’t he? I read somewhere he’s now in television or something.’
I explained about that. I said I had no idea how the rumour started, but Dester was pretty ill and as far as I knew he wasn’t going into television.
‘He’s a drunk, isn’t he?’ Bromwich asked.
‘That’s how you could describe him.’
‘How is he off financially?’
‘He owes money.’
‘Much?’
I hesitated.
‘Come on, come on,’ Bromwich said. ‘You don’t have to be coy with me.’
‘Around twenty thousand.’
Bromwich made a face.
‘These rich.’ He let it hang, then went on, ‘Did they take any luggage?’
‘Mr. Dester had a suitcase.’
‘I’ve seen that Rolls. That’s worth something.’
‘I guess so.’
‘Mrs. Dester take anything with her?’
I very nearly walked into that one.
‘I don’t know. I know Mr. Dester took a case with him because I packed it.’
Just then Marian came in.
Bromwich screwed his bullet head around and stared at her.
‘This is Miss Temple,’ I said. ‘This is Lieutenant Bromwich,’ I went on to Marian.
Bromwich waved Marian to a chair. He didn’t bother to get up.
‘Did Mrs. Dester take any luggage with her?’ he asked. Marian looked startled. ‘Why, no. Mr. Dester had a suitcase, but Mrs. Dester...’
‘Okay, okay, just answer the questions.’
He got her to describe exactly what had happened when she saw Helen and me leave the house. It was a little eerie to hear her account of the departure.
‘Mrs. Dester seemed to be having trouble with him,’ Marian said. ‘He knocked something over and there was a smash. He seemed very unsteady. He wanted the light in the hall turned off because it hurt his eyes. He came down the stairs very slowly, holding on to her arm.’
‘What was he wearing?’ Bromwich asked in a bored, flat voice.
‘A dark brown, wide-brimmed hat, a camel-haired, belted coat, dark grey trousers and nigger brown reverse calf shoes,’ Marian said promptly.
Bromwich looked up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve got pretty good eyes, haven’t you?’
‘I was curious. I hadn’t seen him before. He took some time to cross the hall.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Exactly a week.’
‘And this was the first-time you set eyes on him?’
‘Yes.’
I felt my hands go clammy. Was she going to say she didn’t think he had been in the room all that time?
‘So he stayed in his room for a week?’
‘Mr. Dester stayed in bed,’ I put in. ‘He was pretty bad, and he slept most of the time.’
Bromwich swivelled his bullet head and stared at me.
‘Who was his doctor?’
I felt my heart give a little kick, but I managed to keep my face expressionless. A doctor was something Helen and I had overlooked.
‘He refused to have a doctor.’
‘Who suggested he should go to a sanatorium?’