Griselda didn’t glance at the mirror. She followed.
It was Tobin with Arthur. Olga had a right to be puzzled, but his hat was off in this living room and he looked presentable. Arthur introduced. Ann smiled, held out her hand, gracious as if it were a social call. Griselda’s smile was less real than Ann’s but she could say, gaily enough, “We meet again, Inspector.”
Arthur spoke. “I’ve asked for drinks. Tobin just reminded me in the cab that we were classmates at Princeton.”
Tobin nodded. “I remember wearing blond curls and pink satin in a Triangle chorus while Mr. Stepney sang a masculine lead.”
It was all charming, before-dinner chat. Tobin in the yellow quilted chair, Olga passing Scotch and soda, but Moore was probably behind that screen, under that sofa, remembering every word, every nuance.
Ann was languid. “You’ll pardon my introducing shop, Inspector, but I’m simply weary to know. What have you found out about that poor man?”
He answered her but he wasn’t talking to her. Griselda’s nails teethed into her hand. He said, “We’ve found out quite a bit, thanks to your husband’s”-Arthur looked conceitedly modest-”splendid co-operation. We’ve spent the day with our equipment in that lower corridor.” He broke off to smoke. “It is amazing, Mrs. Stepney, although a cliche, what modern science can discover. For instance, there were no fingerprints, no tangible evidence of anyone having entered the bank. By that I mean what you might term ‘clues.’ Nothing left behind. Yet Jim Ellison, Dr. Ellison, director of our criminological laboratories, has told us that at least one man and two women were in the bank last night. Perhaps two men. His guess would be two but findings indicate positively only one. Dr. Dawes, our medical examiner, has told us that Kerrigan was killed by some sharp, pointed weapon which was immediately withdrawn. Ellison has also found that there was no forcible entry into the bank. The front door was opened by a key, as was the vault, and as was Miss Satterlee’s box.” He turned to her at the last words but he wasn’t looking at her; he was studying her. She allowed surprise and interest to mask her face. “Would you know why anyone should search your safety box?”
She said no. She tried to reach him beyond words. “Unless they thought there was something there which wasn’t there.” She didn’t know if she succeeded.
Olga said, “You are wanted on the telephone, Miss Satterlee.”
Her fingers closed on the arms of the chair. It wouldn’t do to have the maid take the message, not what the message might be. She closed her eyes, recalled swiftly Tobin’s watchfulness. She went to the foyer phone.
David’s voice, “Griselda, I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
“Really?” She must be careful what she said.
“Didn’t you get the messages?”
“Yes. Just before I went out. But I was busy tonight.” Tobin was coming into the foyer. He opened the coat closet beside the phone table, fumbled in his overcoat pocket. The door masked him from the living room.
David had gone on talking. “It is important that I see you.”
Tobin must believe it a light friend on the wire. She made her voice trivial. “I can’t tonight. I haven’t a moment.”
Tobin mouthed, “Hold it.”
She didn’t hear what David was saying.
Tobin was repeating without sound, “Hold it.”
She said, “Just a moment, please.”
Ann and Arthur couldn’t possibly hear. He spoke softly. “If that’s a Montefierrow make an appointment for later.” It was a command. His eyes held hers. He was the law; obey him.
She mouthed in return, “Where?”
“A public place.” He found his cigarettes, returned to the living room.
She said into the phone, “Sorry, David. You were saying?”
He repeated, “I want to see you tonight. It is important.”
She hesitated, “It would have to be quite late.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
She decided, “Eleven o’clock. Morocco.”
Now he hesitated. “I wanted to talk. There’s so many interruptions there.”
She spoke pointedly, “I’d ask you up but the same is true of my place. Monday night usually isn’t very exciting anywhere.”
He agreed, “Morocco at eleven.”
It seemed the safest place. The Montefierrows were known there. The photographers caught them there. Nothing could happen.
Ann’s eyes were velvet. “Was that David?”
She nodded.
Her sister’s voice was limp, like the cream chiffon in her fingers. “Why didn’t you ask him to come up?”
When Ann was velvet and cream there was danger. Griselda was a little sick. Ann couldn’t really be interested in David. She stammered, “I didn’t think of it.”
Ann said nothing. She talked to Tobin about the marvelous detective work of the New York police.
Olga said, “Dinner is served.”
Arthur was hearty again. “I asked Toby to join us, Ann.” He apologized proudly, “You can tell the day I’ve had, that I forgot to mention it before now.
3
”In the cab going down Park, Tobin asked, “Why did you drop those dishes this morning?”
Griselda didn’t know what to say. “Why-I-I don’t know-I’ve been nervous lately…”
He stated, “And that extra made you more nervous.”
Held by a red light at Sixty-fifth Street, he asked, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a blue marble, would it?”
Her eyes widened until they stung. She asked him, “What blue marble?”
He was looking out the window and at Fifty-ninth he answered, “You’re mixed up in a dangerous game, Miss Cameron or Mrs. Satterlee or whatever you call yourself.”
She said; “You may call me Griselda. You’re a friend of Con’s.”
He grinned for an instant. “O.K., Griselda. I don’t know if you know how dangerous it is or not. I have an idea that you have an inkling. But if you’re smart, you’ll get out fast.”
She said simply, under her breath, “If I could, I would,” but she was afraid as she said it. She added, “It’s not going to do me any good turning up with you.”
He pulled an old silver watch from his pocket. “We’re getting there early. You couldn’t help yourself. I insisted on bringing you down from Stepney’s.”
She repeated, “It still isn’t going to do me much good.”
It was ten before the hour. They sat against the zigzag blue of a wall under a shiny ice palm tree. There weren’t many at the tables. The orchestra was meandering through a waltz.
The second hand touched eleven as David came in the doorway, immaculate in white tie. Attendants bowed in his direction. The maitre d’hotel beamed. David saw her but his eyes didn’t change. He came through the narrow apertures to her. Tobin was on his feet.
“I must run, Griselda. The force is being kept pretty busy these days, you understand. Goodnight.” He turned, “Goodnight, Montefierrow.”
David bowed. He sat down, ordered drinks.
“Why did you insist on seeing me?”
He put his hands neatly on the table. “We’re going to the hills for a little rest, until this bank affair quiets. Danny was foolish there.”
She didn’t say it but murder wasn’t foolish, it was insane. She didn’t want to speak of insanity before him. Because of course he was that, both of them, and Missy too.
He said, “We thought you’d find it more comfortable to join us.”
She cried, “Oh, no!” Be shut up with them for a week-no!
His mouth curved. “In view of the fact that the police are so interested in your activities-”
She shook her head decisively, “I wouldn’t want to.” And she said with deliberation, “I’ll enjoy a breathing spell.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled at her with his lips. “Dance?”
She shook her head. She looked at his eyes. “Why did you do that to Gig?”
He actual
ly laughed. “Oh, Griselda! My dear Griselda! You hold that against me?”
She was furious. “Of course I do. He’s a friend of mine. To find him like that.”
“You found him? That was unfortunate.”
It was amazing, frightening, how he could express feeling with hands and mouth and voice, and never a change in those still black eyes.
She demanded, “Why did you do it?” and he answered, “I was afraid he might attempt to follow us, interfere with our plans.”
“But why?”
He smiled again. “Because of you. He is in love with you.”
She felt her cheeks warm. “That’s absurd.”
“Not at all. I might be in love with you myself.” She looked away. “You couldn’t be in love with anyone.”
“That happens to be true.” He spoke softly, chilly. “But if I could, I might be with you. You are exceptionally lovely, even beautiful. The way your hair shines, the storm of your eyes, the molding of your body…”
She knew she looked a fool. She was embarrassed.
“Danny and I are too sensitive to beauty. It is sad.” He tapped one of his own cigarettes, did not offer one to her. “Were it not so we could end this more quickly. And end it we must eventually. You understand?”
She did and was iced again.
“We will have the very blue marble.”
She stated flatly, “I haven’t it.”
He didn’t look at her. “Perhaps eventually you will find it for us.”
She thought before she spoke. “Don’t you think if I could give it to you I would have long ago? Don’t you think I’d do anything to get you out of my life?”
“Almost anything.” He smiled. He beckoned to a waiter hovering nearby. “Could you fix for me a little favorite? Say-brook trout boned, en casserole with pecans and filberts, and warmed with perhaps a sour white wine? I need something of exquisite food. My brother and I and our party are going up to the country for a week. A place called Canaan in the Berkshire country. Perhaps you know? A lake near where we will fish and lead a simple life.” He laughed. “But before simplicity I must have my fill of luxury. Hence-” He spread his hands.
“I personally will inform the chef,” replied the man, and he went across the tiny waxen floor towards the kitchens.
Griselda said, “I shouldn’t think you’d be giving away your hideout.”
He shook his head. “You do not understand. This shall be in the papers. John always gives news to the reporters. Tobin will not think we run away. If he wishes us, we are there. Meantime nothing will be discovered of the bank mishap, and something else will take its place. Then we return.”
She spoke, anger surging in her again. “It isn’t as easy as that to have murders forgotten.”
He was deliberately patronizing. “It is obvious that you are lacking in experience, dear Griselda.”
She hated him. She was surprised at herself, the venom she put into her words. “They know there were two women and at least one man in the bank last night.”
He accepted that information thoughtfully. “And what else?”
“They know that Grain was stabbed before he was shot. They think it happened in my apartment. Tobin and Moore woke me this morning. They were about to take the rags for examination. I don’t know what else. When we heard the extra cried…” Tears, not sudden, she’d been fighting them for too long, were in her eyes.
He said, “I don’t pity you, Griselda. If you would give us the marble-”
Only two words could express herself to him. She said them bluntly. “Shut up.” He did.
Silence, strained silence, was better than talking with him. There was something even better. She started to rise. “I’m going home.”
His fingers touched her wrist. “Sit down.” He was looking towards the entrance. She raised her eyes. Missy was there, Missy in white satin fringed from the waist in shining crystal leaves, nothing above the waist but a wisp, a strap, crystal leaves wreathing her pale lemon hair. Little murmurs zigzagged about the room. Jasper Coldwater was tall behind her.
Griselda wondered aloud where Danny was, guessed silently. There was a groove between David’s eyebrows. He said, “She’s drunk. She’s not allowed to drink. That damn cinema cretin.”
Griselda said quietly, “My wrist is practically broken.”He was grieved. His profusion of apology was more embarrassing than his compliments had been. This was sincere. “I forgot.”
She was grateful that she was not Missy.
He said, “I must get her home before she is too much the fool. You will forgive me, Griselda. If you will but wait…”
She looked at him, then away. She couldn’t understand the fury bottled in him but it was ugly. “I’ll finish the dish, David, then go.”
He nodded as if not hearing her, made his way to that table. She watched. She couldn’t hear what he said but Missy was swaying as she stood and the color was out of her face. Griselda didn’t watch them leave. She ate and she gulped in unknown fear when someone shadowed her chair. It was merely Jasper.
She urged, “Do join me. Taste this.”
He was plaintive. “That twin took your sister home. He didn’t like her being out with me.” He couldn’t understand. Even husbands were delighted to have their wives out with Coldwater.
Griselda asked, “What did he say to her?”
“I couldn’t understand it. It wasn’t English. It didn’t sound like French or anything I’ve heard.” He protested, “She called me.”
She told him, “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re all so foreign.”
He was eating from David’s plate. “Um.” He touched his lips with the napkin. “This is good. Where’s Nesta?”
Her eyes were wide. “I haven’t seen her. I called.”
He was a little annoyed. “She hasn’t been back to the hotel since Sunday.”
She wouldn’t let fear touch this. Not Nesta. Too obvious where she was with a new man in tow. She laughed, “She’ll turn up when she’s bored.”
He agreed. “I don’t doubt it.” His voice was complaining. “But it is hard to go on making excuses to Oppy. He keeps calling me, as if I should know.”
“Tell him she’s gone fishing.” She had finished to the last drop of sauce. “I’m going home now.”
He said, “I’ll drop you. I’m tired of this place. I’m tired of New York. I want to go back to Hollywood. But I have to see Nesta off to London. We’re a romance. Damn Nesta. Damn the pictures. She’s sailing next Monday-if she remembers.”
He summoned the cab. Griselda said, “I wouldn’t worry about her. She won’t forget her public and the Korda picture.”
“She makes me sick.” He saw her to the elevator, opened it for her and she was spared that. Going up in it she began to laugh. The Montefierrows had done one thing. They even made movie stars seem normal.
PART VIII
1
No one in the hallway. For once, no one in her apartment. She searched, all lights blazing, before removing her coat, before putting down her bag. She chained the front entrance, re-examined the back one. She considered calling Gig but discarded the idea. It was too good to be alone. She undressed, showered, put on pajamas with green tadpoles cavorting in pattern, tied back her hair with an old pink ribbon and daubed an icy cream on her face.
It had been so long since she was alone; she had forgotten how good it was. To be able to think. Think a little on Con, but that hurt, wanting him, after four years she should be over that want. She’d thought it was gone, at least leashed, but she knew now it would never be finished. Not think of Con. At least he was safe on the border job, or would be if he’d stop the midnight flights. He was safe. Anyone was safe away from the Montefierrow twins.
Tobin was nice. At least he’d be nice to know if he weren’t pecking at you, if he were a friend. But why did he want her to meet David? Sergeant Moore was nice too. But they were watching, waiting to close in. What would they do to her? She hadn’t killed-but she�
�d known and not told. They could do something to you for that. Even if you couldn’t tell, with nothing to tell at first, and after, after afraid to speak. Afraid, not exactly of death but of something unknown, something more horrible than death. And afraid always for Con. She wouldn’t mind what the police did to her; they could shut her up, take her life. She wouldn’t like it but she wouldn’t be frightened of them. Tobin said it was a dangerous game, more dangerous than she knew. It was more dangerous than he knew. But there was still time. The twins wouldn’t really hurt her until they had the very blue marble. If the X-men would only hurry, if Con only realized how they must speed.
And where did Gig fit in? If he weren’t Gig, who was he, and what did he want? One thing certain, he wasn’t a killer. But what was he doing here?
Too many circles. Missy. Missy ought to be saved. She was too young. Ann, jealous because David had called her sister. What was David doing to Ann? David couldn’t feel. Didn’t Ann know that or did he pretend to her?
Nesta. Jasper. But they were normal. Again she smiled at considering Hollywoodies normal.
No more thoughts. Sleep. That was best. She relaxed, snapped off the bed lamp, and closed her eyes.
The dream woke her, dreaming someone was in the room, but that couldn’t be. She stirred without opening her eyes, relaxed again. But there was someone in the room, someone watching her in the dark. She didn’t want to open her eyes but her arm reached to the light.
“Don’t turn it on.”
Missy’s voice. Griselda sat upright in bed. The room wasn’t dark. There were reflections from street lights below. She could see Missy’s outline perched on the far window ledge like an organ grinders monkey.
She had closed the Venetian blinds earlier, although the windows were left open. Missy must have raised that one. Perhaps that noise had wakened her.
She asked, “How did you get in here?”
“Through the bathroom skylight.”
She was small enough. She looked like a little boy in the half light, a dark cap on her head, dark knickerbockers and shirt, even long dark stockings, boys’ oxfords. She was smoking one of her little cigarettes.
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