Part 14 (2/2)
”They will have about as much savour.”
”The body cares not what the palate thinks. What is in the news today?”
He listened with half an ear as she read to him a number of political and criminological stories that concerned him not in the least-”3 FLUNG TO ROAD FROM CABLE-CAR” was one admittedly evocative headline, less so the lengthy tale of a woman who came home from filing for divorce to find her three children and the husband shot to death by his hand. When their food came, he waited until she had begun before he picked up his fork, and felt he was nearly counting the number of times her own rose and fell. After a time, the habits of her own physicality took over, and he relaxed his vigil, and paid closer attention to her words.
By the end of the meal, he couldn't have said precisely where his wife had been the night before or recalled the peculiar names of the dances she had a.s.sayed, but two things were clear: She had eaten enough for the moment and, although she had not expected to do so when she'd left the hotel the night before, she had in truth enjoyed the company of Flo Greenfield. Holmes commented on the latter fact.
Russell looked mildly surprised. ”Yes, I suppose so. She's not exactly my sort, and hasn't much of an interest in anything but fas.h.i.+on and decorating, but she does have a brain beneath the flutter. Sooner or later she's going to get tired of night-clubs and hang-overs, and when she does, I have a feeling she'll make something of herself. Are you asking for a reason?”
Holmes was not altogether pleased to see the evidence of Russell's quick common sense-it was good to see a flash of normality, but it meant that he'd have to proceed cautiously. He took out his cigarette case. ”I don't suppose you've any meetings with Norbert until Monday?”
”I do have a brief appointment this morning, just to sign a few papers. The manager of the Sacramento property wanted to meet today, but unfortunately his mother's been taken ill and he's cancelled it until Tuesday or Wednesday.”
”I see.”
”What are you up to, Holmes?”
”Me? Why do you imagine-”
”You're asking far too many innocent questions.”
”Ah. I was simply concerned . . . well, never mind. We shall plan an outing for the week-end.”
”Concerned that what?”
”Russell, I don't know that it's good for you to be without something to employ your mind,” he replied bluntly. ”You're dwelling too much on the past. We shall hire a motor and take the Sausalito ferry to-”
”Me? I'm not the one who's 'dwelling on the past,'” she snapped. ”And I certainly don't need a nurse-maid.” I'm not the one who's 'dwelling on the past,'” she snapped. ”And I certainly don't need a nurse-maid.”
”Good, fine. You've no doubt made plans for parties with your friend. In town, I take it?”
”Why?”
”I don't . . . I would hate . . .” Holmes took a deep breath and began again. ”I rather trust you won't do something foolish such as going to see your parents' summer house on your own.”
”'Foolish'?” Russell's chin came up and her eyes flashed; with the raised colour in her face, she looked nearly herself. ”Holmes, I should appreciate it if you would not try to tell me what I am and am not to do. If I choose to drive down the coast and look at the Lodge-my Lodge-then I shall do so. I need not ask your permission.” Lodge-then I shall do so. I need not ask your permission.”
”Russell, I merely request-”
But the heat of her response was only fed by placation. ”You think it 'foolish' when I I investigate a matter, and not when you do it? Thank you, Holmes, I shall let you know what I decide to do with the week-end.” And with that she rose, dropped her table napkin on the cloth, and strode from the restaurant. investigate a matter, and not when you do it? Thank you, Holmes, I shall let you know what I decide to do with the week-end.” And with that she rose, dropped her table napkin on the cloth, and strode from the restaurant.
It was as well she did not look back. She might have seen Holmes, leaning back to tap his cigarette into the ash-tray, smiling gently at the rising smoke.
An hour later, while Russell was grappling with legal terminology in Norbert's office, Holmes presented himself at the Greenfield mansion. He took off his hat and handed it to the man who opened the door, saying, ”You must be Mr Jeeves? My wife was here the other day. I had hoped to find Miss Greenfield at home, Miss Flo Greenfield?”
”Yes, sir, I shall see if she is at home. If you'd like to wait in here?”
”In here” was a room whose purpose could only have been the temporary parking of callers, as the seats were too far apart to be of any use for conversation and the decor was intended to impress rather than to please or entertain. It was, in the end, more pleasing than a room more lived in, for the cool, spa.r.s.e furnis.h.i.+ngs set off the modern sculpture and fireplace tile as a more cluttered room would not. It reminded Holmes somewhat of the j.a.panese rooms they had seen on the other side of the ocean, rich materials used in an austere fas.h.i.+on. Restful.
After a quarter of an hour, he was shown into a warmer, more lived-in room. The young woman seated before the fire with a coffee service put out her hand to greet him, her dark eyes alive with interest although she showed all the signs of hasty dressing.
”Mr Holmes? Mary's husband? It's fantastic to meet you. Mary said you wouldn't like our kind of fun or I'd have had her drag you along. But I'm glad you tracked me down at home. Is she coming, too? Oh, manners, Flo!” She pulled together a mock-formal face and manner. ”Sir, would you care for a cup of coffee?”
”No, thank you, Miss Greenfield, I've just come from breakfast. Actually, my wife doesn't know I am here. Tell me, have you spoken with her this morning?”
”She woke me up about half an hour ago, 'phoning to see if I had plans for the week-end.”
”And you've found yourself dragooned into a drive along the coast to her summer house in the mountains.”
”Yes,” she said, happily unaware that this plan ought to have been a surprise to him. ”Although I wouldn't exactly say 'dragooned.' There's a couple of boring parties going on but it's the same old people, and I'm happy to tag along. She's only here for a few days, after all.”
”Miss Greenfield, are you aware of the circ.u.mstances, and the place, of her family's death?”
”Well, sure, but why-oh, I see. Oh, I promise you, we'll drive the other way, through Redwood City. I wouldn't want to worry her.”
”You may find that she insists on the coastal route. She may feel it necessary to face the place where she survived, and they did not.”
The cup dropped into its saucer with a clatter. ”Oh. Golly, yes, there is that. I hadn't thought . . .”
”May I be frank, Miss Greenfield?”
”Well, sure.”
Holmes took a breath, and committed treason against his wife. ”For some weeks now, my wife has not been herself. Something about this place has been preying on her mind. I should appreciate it very much if you were to keep an eye on her, in my absence.”
”What do you mean, 'keep an eye on her'?” She asked it warily; Holmes could see the plots of a hundred lurid novels springing up in the girl's eyes, and hastened to turn them aside.
”I only mean to say, she does not care for herself sufficiently. She has not been eating well, and sleeps briefly and restlessly. If you were to insist that she eat, and take exercise, and perhaps go so far as to swallow a sleeping draught . . .”
”Ah,” she said, her eyebrows descending with mingled relief and disappointment. ”I was afraid you meant, oh jeepers, suicide or something.” She gave a merry little laugh, to ill.u.s.trate that she was exaggerating, but for an instant Holmes was seized by the memory of Russell teetering over the s.h.i.+pboard rails, a thousand miles of empty ocean waiting to swallow her. He pushed down the image, and gave the young woman his most rea.s.suring smile.
”Oh, she's far too sensible for that. No, just careless of herself. She needs a friend at the moment.”
”Sure, I can be that. It was nifty to meet Mary again-I remember her from when we were kids.” The thought startled Holmes a little, as he had never thought of his wife as any sort of a child, not even the day they'd met. But this young woman, just Russell's age, was still young in ways Russell had never been. She did not notice his momentary distraction, but continued on. ”And her family-Mary's father was just a card, and her mother, gosh, she was amazing. Did you ever meet her?”
”I regret I did not have the pleasure.”
”No, that's right, Mary met you after the . . . afterwards. Well, don't you worry, Mr Holmes, we'll take good care of her.”
”'We'?”
”Yes, I thought Donny-he's my boy-friend-might drive us down, if you don't mind? He's a very responsible boy, when he hasn't been drinking, anyway, and he never drinks when he's driving, honest.”
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