married him, and she doesn’t make many mistakes.”
“That one was a whopper, though.”
“He’s a terrible man. Egotistical. Selfish. He’s nothing more than a publicity-seeker, with no regard for anyone but himself.”
“You’re right.”
She pressed her hands to her bosom and looked across at the trophy case. “A. E. made me feel so good about myself…. She made me feel I could conquer the world.”
Margot had lapsed into the past tense about Amy, too. It was tough not to.
She turned her gaze upon me, and it was so earnest, I wanted to laugh—or cry. She asked, “What can you do about this, Mr. Heller?”
“I figure once I’ve had my arm around a girl, she’s earned the right to use my first name.”
She liked that. “Thanks, Nathan. You’re everything A. E. said you were….”
“Let’s not jump the gun. As for what I can do—I’m not even sure why I came out to California, Margot. It was an impulse.”
I told her about Paul Mantz trying to hire me—weeks ago, while Amy was still on American soil—to look into the funny business surrounding the world flight, and how I turned him down. How I may have missed the chance to head this disaster off before it started.
“Oh dear,” she said, looking at me with tenderness and pity, “you must feel terribly guilty!”
“You really know how to lift a fella’s spirits, Margot…. If the Coast Guard and Navy can’t find her in the ocean, I’m not sure what good I can do in Burbank. But I do know I don’t want G. P. getting away with this.”
Her eyes got teary again and her lower lip quivered. “I don’t think he cares if she comes back…. I don’t think he wants her to come back….”
“I suspect you’re right. But first things first—I’m still trying to piece together what’s really going on here.”
Her expression turned firm; dabbing the new tears away with my hanky, she asked, “How can I help?”
“Tell me what you’ve seen.” I gestured around us.
“What unusual has happened here at the house?”
She drew air in and then blew it out through a Clara Bow pucker. “Ooooh, so many things…. One of the things that struck me was all the military people parading through.”
“What kind of military people?” I sat sideways on the couch, to look right at her. “You mean, like the Navy chauffeur who drove her around in a staff car, sometimes?”
“Well that, but these were very high-ranking officers, Army and Navy both. They’d come over and meet with G. P. and A. E., or sometimes with just G. P.”
“You remember any names, Margot?”
She nodded. “There was a General Arnold, and a General Westover….”
Generals were dropping by?
“This was after Mr. Miller moved in,” she elaborated.
Then she shuddered. “Such a cold man.”
“In what way? Who the hell is he?”
“He’s with the government, too—the Bureau of Air Commerce. I think A. E. put up with him only because she’s so friendly with his superior, Mr. Vidal. Mr. Miller is the ‘coordinator’ of the flight.”
“What does that mean?”
“Who knows? His first name is William, and I’ve never heard him called Bill; G. P. just calls him Miller. Most everybody seems to, although I wasn’t raised that way. I call him Mr. Miller. And other things, to myself.”
“When did he move in here?”
“In April, after the last of the meetings with Mr. Baruch. But he’s not here all the time, he has an office in Oakland—”
“Wait, wait, what meetings with who?”
“There were three meetings between G. P. and A. E. and Mr. Baruch starting in, uh, late March I believe, with the last one in early April.”
“This is Bernard Baruch we’re talking about.”
“Yes. He’s a gentleman in his sixties, early sixties, I would say; somewhat heavy-set but not fat. Beautiful white hair, glasses that sit on his nose. A nice man. Soft spoken, well spoken. Do you know him?”
“Not personally.”
Maybe they didn’t get around to current events at that business college in Van Nuys, but I knew who Bernard Baruch was, even if my newspaper of choice was
That was Bernard Baruch.
“Margot, did you take notes at these meetings?”
“No, but I was around…I overheard some things, things I probably shouldn’t have. I know A. E. was upset after
