asked to speak to the master. In a moment our splenetic client came on the line and began screaming at me.
He was spluttering and shouting so loudly that it was difficult to grasp the reason for his rancorous outburst. I finally determined that a second ransom note had been found that morning, slid under the Willigans' front door.
'When was it found?' I asked.
'I told you already-this morning.'
'How early this morning?'
'Very early. When Ruby Jackson came down to make breakfast.'
'You think it was delivered last night?'
Who the hell knows? You're the detective, ain-cha?'
'Plain white envelope?'
'Yeah, same as before.'
'Who in your house has handled it?'
'Ruby handled the envelope. I handled the envelope and the letter inside.'
'Don't let anyone else touch it, Mr. Willigan. What does the letter say?'
'Peaches is crying a lot. Poor Sweetums. She misses me.'
'Uh-huh,' I said. 'What else?'
'They want me to put together a bundle of fifty thousand dollars. Used bills, unmarked, no numbers in sequence, nothing over a hundred.'
'Any instructions for delivery?'
'Nah. I should just have the cash ready. They'll tell me when and how to get it to them.'
'I better come over and pick up the letter,' I said. 'Will you be there, sir?'
'No, I won't be here,' he said aggrievedly. 'I got a meeting I'm late for already. I'll leave the letter with Laverne. You get it from her.'
'Please tell her not to handle it.'
'All right, all right,' he said angrily, 'I'll tell her. Listen, Archy, you've got to work harder on this thing. As far as I can see, you're spinning your wheels.'
'Not exactly,' I said. 'I have a very important lead I can't discuss on the phone.'
'Yeah?' he said. 'Well, it better pan out or I'm hiring me a professional private eye. And I might even pull my business from McNally and Son unless I get some results.'
And with that naked threat he slammed down the phone before I had a chance to reply. The response I had ready would have shocked my father. He believes a soft answer turneth away wrath. Sometimes it does. And sometimes a knuckle sandwich is required.
I went upstairs to exchange my puce beret for the white one because I feared the puce would clash with a flag-red Miata. (Genius is in the details.) Then I drove toward the Willigans' estate. My spasm of fury at our client's insulting treatment ebbed as I noted the sun was shining brightly and the sky looked as if it had just come from the tum-ble-dry cycle. A splendid day!
The door of the Willigan hacienda was opened by Leon Medallion, glum of countenance, eyes bleared by whatever allergy was affecting him that morning.
'Another ransom note, Leon,' I said.
He nodded gloomily. 'The old man was in a ferocious temper. When he starts shouting up a storm like that, I disappear. He can be mean.'
'I'm supposed to pick up the letter from Mrs. Willigan. Is she here?'
'Out by the pool toasting her buns. You can find your way, can't you? I'm still polishing the effing silver, trying to get the tarnish off. This climate is murder on silverware, brass, and copper.'
'Maybe we should all switch to plastic,' I suggested.
He brightened. 'Fair dinkum, mate,' he said.
It hadn't been an exaggeration to say Laverne was toasting her buns. She was lying prone on a padded chaise pulled into the sunlight. She was wearing a thong bikini, and I was immediately reminded of a Parker House roll. She raised her head as I approached. It was wise of her not to rise farther since she had unhooked her bra strap.
'Hi, Archy,' she said breezily. 'Love your tam.'
'Beret,' I corrected, 'and I thank you. I hope you're using a sunscreen.'
'Baby oil,' she said.
'You won't roast,' I told her, 'you'll fry. May I pull up a chair?'
'Sure,' she said. 'And if you're a good boy I'll let you oil my back.'
She was at it again, and I decided she was a lady who enjoyed playing the tease. There is a coarse epithet for women like that-but I shall not offend by repeating it.
I placed a canvas director's chair close to her chaise, but not within oiling distance, and sat where I could see her face.
'Another letter from the catnappers,' I said.
'That's right. Harry said to give it to you. It's on the taboret in the hallway. They want him to get the cash ready.'
'So I understand. I imagine the next letter will give instruction for delivery.'
'Archy, do you have any notion of who might have swiped Peaches?'
'A few frail leads,' I said, 'but nothing really definite. Laverne, I have a fantastic idea I'd like to try out on you. Do you know what a psychic is?'
Her face was half-buried in the padding, and I couldn't observe her reaction.
'Sure,' she said, voice muffled. 'People who are supposed to have second sight. They claim they can predict the future and things like that.'
'Things like locating missing persons and objects,' I said. 'My idea is to contact some local psychic and see if he or she can get a vision of where Peaches is now.'
Laverne raised her head to stare at me with an expression I could not decipher. 'That's the nuttiest idea I've ever heard,' she said. 'You don't believe that voodoo stuff, do you?'
'I don't believe and I don't disbelieve. But it's worth trying, wouldn't you say?'
'No, I would not say,' she said with what seemed to me an excess of vehemence. 'It's crazy. Don't do it, Archy. If Harry finds out you've gone to someone who reads tea leaves or whatever it is they do, he'll fire both you and your father.'
'Yes,' I said regretfully, 'I guess you're right. As I said, it was just a wild idea. I better forget it.'
'That's smart,' she said, settling down again. 'By the way, I heard from Meg. She'll be back sometime this week. She's got her own apartment now in Riviera Beach. Will you be glad to see her again, Archy?'
'Of course. She's a very attractive lady.'
Her head came up again, and this time she grinned at me. 'I think you ought to make a move there,' she said. 'I think Meg is ready.'
I was happy to learn that Meg didn't tell Laverne everything.
'Laverne!' I said as if shocked. 'She's your sister!'
'That's why I want her to have fun. Give her a break, darling. It doesn't have to be heavy. Just for laughs.'
'I don't know,' I said doubtfully. 'I'm not sure she has eyes for me.'
'Try it,' Laverne urged. 'It would do her a world of good. I realize she's a skinny one, but remember: the nearer the bone, the sweeter the meat.'
Yes, she did say that. Was there a more vulgar woman in Palm Beach? If there was, I hadn't met her and had no desire to.
'I'll take it under advisement,' I said and stood up. 'I better pick up that letter and see if it's any help in finding the catnappers.'
'And you'll forget all about going to a psychic?'
The first two rules of successful deception are keep it short and never repeat. Ask me; I know. Laverne was obviously an amateur at deceit.
'I've already forgotten,' I assured her. 'Don't get too much sun or you might start peeling.'
