Part 24 (1/2)

Stockdale accompanied her into the kitchen. Pots boiled and frying pans sizzled. She remembered the salmon burger shed never had the chance to eat the last time shed been here. The kitchen staff obediently looked at her picture, but no one recognized Ewan. Not a surprise-he would have been unlikely to venture into the kitchen.

”Lift operators?” Stockdale asked.

”I guess.” She wasnt optimistic. All day long, the lift operators saw nothing but the shape of bodies and if they did look at faces, they were likely to see nothing much more than goggles and helmets.

But she asked anyway, and got the answers she expected.

”The glamorous life of a detective,” Stockdale said as they walked back to the lodge.

”Lets check ski patrol before I give up,” she said. ”Someone might have been having lunch at the time in question and seen something.”

Stockdales radio squawked. ”Be right there,” he said. He turned to Molly. ”Someones remembered something.”

The woman who cooked the fries met them as they came through the doors. A young woman in slim white jeans and a white sweater with the Blue Sky logo over the right pocket stood beside her. She was much shorter than Molly and as thin as a ski pole. Her long hair, black highlighted with streaks of copper, swung in a ponytail that reached halfway down her back. Her skin was golden, with high flat cheekbones, and she was exceptionally pretty.

”Show the picture to Marilyn,” the woman said.

Smith held it out and the girl took it.

”Thats him,” she said, almost immediately. ”Positive.”

”Marilyns my daughter,” the woman explained. ”Shes a cas.h.i.+er. She was on her break when you came by. I told her about the guy youre looking for and she asked to have a look. Right, dear?”

”I can talk, you know, Mom,” Marilyn said.

”You remember seeing this man?” Smith asked.

”Yes, I do.” Marilyn glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eyes.

Smith said, ”Thank you very much, Mrs....”

”Monroe. Im Janice Monroe.”

That would make her daughters name...Marilyn Monroe? Marilyn read Smiths face. She was probably used to the expression. ”Im Marilyn Chow. When my parents divorced my mother went back to her maiden name. I chose not to change.”

No need to wonder why.

”Thank you for your help, Ms. Monroe. I dont want to keep you any longer,” Smith said. A small lineup was forming at the serving counter. Although no one seemed in much of a hurry to be served: they were all watching the police officer question the women.

”You can go back to work now, Janice.” Stockdale said, not as politely as Smith had done.

Janice Monroe tilted her chin and returned to her station. Marilyn sighed audibly.

”Im not actually looking for this man,” Smith said. ”He...uh...isnt missing. But we would like to speak to a woman he met here, at the resort, on December twenty-third. She was dressed in a white ski suit. They had lunch together. If you can give me any information about the woman, Id appreciate it.”

”Why?” she said. Her dark eyes studied Smith.

”As part of an ongoing police investigation.”

”Which doesnt answer my question, but never mind.” Marilyn took a step backward and held out her arms. ”Not exactly ski clothes. But this might be white enough for you. I had lunch with the guy in the photo that day.”

A man was leaning off the edge of his chair, so obviously trying to hear better he was about to drop onto the floor. Smith glanced at Stockdale.

”My office,” he said. ”Lets go.”

Marilyn Chow had met Ewan Williams on December twenty-second when he paid for his lunch. Hed smiled and flirted and she hissed at him that hed get her fired if he didnt move on. He paid twenty dollars too much for his food. She put the money in the tip jar to share with the rest of the staff.

He took a table close to the checkouts and watched her as he ate his lunch. Meal finished he bought a coffee. Coffee drunk, he went for a slice of blueberry pie. His friends had stopped at his table, and asked why he wasnt sitting with them. 'Because Ive found the spot that has the perfect view hed said, with one eye on Marilyn. His friends had gone off shaking their heads.

Time came for her break and shed left her checkout. He stood up as she pa.s.sed his table. ”Im in a relations.h.i.+p,” she said, and ran for the stairs.

He didnt follow.

The next morning he was in the breakfast line. As he paid for his coffee he pulled a fresh red rose out of the inside pocket of his jacket. ”What time do you take lunch?” he asked.

Marilyn was in a relations.h.i.+p, but it was getting wobbly. ”Eleven,” shed said. ”Before the rush.”

”Ill reserve a table.”

At ten to eleven he walked into the lodge. He gathered up his friends backpacks and placed them across the seats at a long table in an alcove toward the back, thus reserving the entire area.

He slipped up behind her, as she accepted the money for two hot chocolates, and whispered, ”Anything you dont eat, Madame?”

Charmed, shed laughed. ”I eat anything and everything.”

He soon was back to pay, pus.h.i.+ng two trays along the line. Salmon burger with side salad, spinach salad, sweet potato soup, hamburger and fries, curried chicken and rice, Thai noodle salad, scrambled tofu.

”Anything and everything,” he said as she racked up the bill.

Yes, yes. All terribly charming. Smith steered the conversation to the evening in question.

”He didnt show,” Marilyn said.

”You were going to meet where?”

”Six oclock at the Bishop and Nun in Trafalgar. I waited for an hour and left. I dont hang around in bars waiting for men who cant be bothered to show up.”

Smith would bet a years pay that Marilyn was not accustomed to being stood up.

Marilyn had taken the visitors chair in Stockdales office. The security chief sat behind his own desk. Molly Smith leaned against the wall. Marilyn was so tiny, so incredibly lovely, that she made Smith, in her heavy boots, uniform and gunbelt, feel like G.o.dzilla.

”And that was the end of that.” The girl shrugged. ”I gave him my number. He never called.”

”You dont seem too upset,” Stockdale said.

”His loss.”