Why it was important I shouldn’t answer the telephone and what you want with me?”
“Of course. Shall we go in? I’ll get you a drink.”
We went up the steps. The front door stood open, and we walked into a lobby, through an archway into a big lounge that ran the width of the house. It was everything you would expect a millionairess to have. No money had been spared. The colour scheme was cream and magenta, and the room was showy without being vulgar. Not my idea of a room, but then I run to very simple tastes.
“Let’s sit on the verandah,” she said. “Will you go through? I’ll bring the drinks.”
“Are you alone here?”
“Except for a servant. She won’t worry us.”
I walked out on to the verandah. There was one of those big swing lounging seats about ten feet long arranged so you could sit and admire the view: as a view it was well worth admiring. I dropped on to a soft leather cushion and stared at the distant sea. All the time I had been in the car I had been wondering what she wanted with me. I still wondered.
She came out after a few minutes, pushing a trolley on which were bottles, glasses and an ice-pail. She sat down at one end of the seat. There was about eight feet of leather and space between us.
“Whisky?”
“Thank you.”
I watched her pour the whisky. Dark blue lights in the verandah roof made enough light for me to see her, but not enough to try the eyes. I thought she was about the loveliest lovely I had ever seen. Even her movements were a pleasure to watch.
We were both careful not to say anything while she poured the drinks. She offered me a cigarette, and I took it. I lit hers, and then mine.
We were now ready to begin, but she still seemed reluctant to say anything, and I wasn’t chancing a wrong remark that might put her off. We stared at the garden, the sea and the moon while the hands of my wrist-watch moved on.
She said suddenly, “I’m sorry about the way I—I acted. I mean offering you money to leave me alone. I know it was the wrong approach, but I didn’t want to give anything away until I had had a chance to find out what kind of man you are. The fact is I want your help. I’m in a mess, and I don’t know how to get out of it. I’ve been an awful fool, and I’m scared. I’m scared out of my wits.”
She didn’t look scared, but I didn’t tell her so.
“I wish I knew for certain if he knows of this place,” she went on, as if talking to herself. “If he does he’s certain to come here.”
“Suppose we take this nice and slow?” I said mildly. “We have all the time in the world.
Why was it important I shouldn’t answer the telephone? Let’s start with that one.”
“Because he would know where you were, and he’s looking for you,” she said, as if she were talking to a dim-witted child.
“You haven’t told me who he is. Is it Sherrill?”
“Of course,” she said shortly.
“Why is he looking for me?”
“He doesn’t want trouble, and you’re making trouble. He’s determined to get rid of you. I heard him tell Francini to do it.”
“Is Francini a little Wop with pock-marks on his face?”
“Yes.”
“And he works for Sherrill?”
“Yes.”
“So it was Sherrill who engineered Stevens’ kidnapping?”
“Yes. That settled it for me. When I heard the poor old man had died I came straight to you.”
“Does Sherrill know you have this place?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never talked about it, and he hasn’t ever been here. But he might know. There’s very little he doesn’t know.”
“All right, now we have got that ironed out, suppose we begin at the beginning?”
“I want to ask you something first,” she said. “Why did you come to Crestways, asking for me? Why did you go and talk to Dr. Bewley? Has anyone hired you to find out what I have been doing?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Who?”
“Your sister, Janet,” I told her.
If I had hit her across the face she wouldn’t have reacted more violently. She reared back in the seat as if she had trodden on a snake, making the swing rock violently.
“Janet?” The word came out in a horrified whisper. “But Janet’s dead. What do you mean? How can you say such a thing!”
I took out my wallet, found Janet’s letter and held it out to her.
“Read this.”
“What is it?” she asked, and seemed afraid to look at it.
“Read it, and look at the date. It was mislaid for fourteen months. I only read it myself for the first time a day or so ago.”
She took the letter. Her face stiffened and the pupils of her eyes contracted at the sight of the handwriting. After she had read it she sat still for several minutes, staring at it. I didn’t hurry her. Fear, real and undisguised, was plain to see on her face.
“And this—this started you making inquiries?” she asked at last.
“Your sister sent me five hundred dollars. I felt bound to earn it. I came out to Crestways to see you and talk it over. If you had been there and had explained the letter I should have returned the money and dropped the inquiry. But you weren’t there. Then all kinds of things started to happen, so I continued the investigation.”
“I see.”
I waited for her to say something else, hut she didn’t. She sat still, staring at the letter; her face white and her eyes hard.
“Were you being blackmailed?” I asked.
“No. I don’t know why she wrote to you. I suppose she was trying to make trouble. She was always trying to make trouble for me. She hated me.”
“Why did she hate you?”
She stared down at the garden for a long time without saying anything. I drank some of the whisky and smoked. If she was going to tell me she would in her own time. She wasn’t the type to be rushed.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “If I tell you why she hated me I’ll be putting myself entirely at your mercy. You could ruin me.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that. “But if I don’t tell you,” she went on, clenching her fists, “I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this mess. I must have someone I can trust.”
“Haven’t you a lawyer?” I said, for something to say.
“He would be worse than useless. He’s my trustee. By the terms of my father’s will if I get involved in a scandal I lose everything. And I’m up to my ears in what would be a horrific scandal if it got out.”
“You mean with Sherrill?” I said. “Did you finance the Dream Ship?”
She stiffened, turned, stared at me. “You know that?”
“I don’t know it. I’m making a guess. If it got out you were behind the Dream Ship it would make a scandal.”
“Yes.” She suddenly moved along the seat so she was close to me. “Janet was in love with Douglas. I was crazy about him, too. I stole him from her. She tried to shoot me, but father saved me. He was shot instead of me,” she blurted out and hid her face in her hands.
I sat as still as a stone man, waiting. I wasn’t expecting this, and I was startled.
“It was hushed up,” she went on after a long pause. “Never mind how. But it preyed on Janet’s mind. She— she poisoned herself. That was hushed up, too. We were afraid it would come out why she killed herself. It was
