years.’ He shifted as though he found the chair hard, which he probably did. ‘Is all this important?’
‘I’m always interested in the hired help.’ I could have added that I was interested in finding out why Marvin had wanted to kill me, but I didn’t say so. ‘Now, you mentioned your wife. What about her?’
‘She has disappeared. She left home two days ago, hasn’t been seen or heard from since. I’m worried, Lantry.’
‘A natural emotion. Have you been to the police?’
‘No.’
‘Why not? They are the most suitable and obvious people to find her. They can check the hospitals, the morgue, the—’
‘I have already done that,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘I am not wholly a fool, Lantry. When Norma, my wife, didn’t return home, I had my lawyers check every possible place she might be.’ He looked baffled. ‘They couldn’t find her.’
‘And you think I could?’
‘Yes. I think that if any man could find her, you are that man.’
‘Thank you.’ It was a compliment and it was sincere. I poised my pencil. ‘I take it that your wife is an elderly woman?’
‘No.’ He licked his thin lips with a nervous gesture, a quick, darting movement of his tongue. ‘This is my second marriage,’ he explained. ‘My first wife died a short while ago and I married again.’
‘I see. Children?’
‘Two. My son, Stephan, is twenty-five. My daughter, Susan, is a year younger. There are no children of my second marriage.’ He didn’t say that there wouldn’t be, but it was as plain as the nose on his face.
‘They live with you?’
‘Yes. They live with Norma and I. We have a few servants and do little entertaining.’ He coughed and took a square of linen from his pocket. ‘Is all this essential, Lantry?’
‘It could be.’ I waited until he had finished dabbing at his lips. ‘About your second wife, Colonel?’
‘I married her about six months ago. She was, is, a sweet child, rather headstrong, but that is to be expected.’ He didn’t seem to have noticed his slip. ‘Our relationship was more that of father and daughter than husband and wife.’
I nodded, not believing him, but I wasn’t paid to give opinions. ‘History?’
‘What?’ He blinked. ‘Is that necessary?’
‘You want me to find her, don’t you?’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘What am I supposed to do, go round asking every woman I meet whether or not she is your missing wife?’ I shrugged. ‘At thirty dollars a day plus expenses, I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life on the job. Can you afford to wait that long?’
‘I have a photograph here.’ He slipped an oblong of pasteboard from an inner pocket. ‘You will find all relevant details on the back.’
‘Good.’ I didn’t touch the photograph. ‘Now, who saw her last? Who spoke to her last? Where did she say she was going? Has she any friends? Did she take her car? Clothes? Money?’ I shrugged at his expression. ‘I’m sorry, Colonel, but I’m not a miracle worker. I’ll find your wife, but I must have something to work on.’
‘She has a car, but didn’t take it with her. As for clothes?’ He made a helpless gesture. ‘I don’t know about that. She has a lot of clothes and, frankly, I wouldn’t know if she took any or not.’
‘She has a maid?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Good.’ I made more pothooks. ‘I’ll call and see her tomorrow. Which address? Town or Lower Manhattan?’
‘Manhattan. 518 Osbourne Heights, but is it necessary for you to visit my house?’
‘It would be simpler.’ I jotted down the address and picked up the photograph. Despite myself it was hard to keep a blank expression. Something of what I felt must have showed in my face.
‘I am an old man,’ the Colonel said quietly. ‘I married first rather late in life and am forty years older than my children.’ He looked at me. ‘I am a rich man also, and a rich man can sometimes indulge his whims. I wanted a young wife and, perhaps not surprisingly, my wealth outweighed her desire for a younger man.’
‘I see.’ I laid the photograph face down on the desk. ‘You are a cynic, Colonel.’
‘Not a cynic,’ he corrected. ‘An intelligent man.’ He reached into an inside pocket and produced a wallet. From it he counted out five nice, crisp, one-hundred-dollar bills. He laid them on the desk. ‘I do not wish to haggle,’ he said, and I felt an instinctive warmth towards him. ‘You mentioned thirty dollars a day plus expenses, expenses which, I imagine, would be somewhat high.’
‘Gas, drinks, bullets, and bribes,’ I said quickly. He didn’t seem to have heard me.
‘I will make my own offer. Here is five hundred dollars. Take it, and the day you find my wife I will give you ten thousand more.’ He pushed the bills towards me, their newness making little crackling noises. ‘You accept?’
‘I accept.’ I reached into the drawer, the one I keep my bottle and spare gun in, and took out a pad of receipts. I filled in the top form, signed it, and handed it over. Geeson took it, examined it, then tucked it into his wallet.
‘Is that all?’
‘Not quite.’ I stared down at the pothooks I’d made to refresh my memory. ‘I should like to interview your son and daughter. Would tomorrow be a convenient time? I could check with the maid at the same time.’
‘You forget yourself, Lantry,’ he said coldly. ‘You may interview the servants, yes. But my personal family must not be bothered by you. After all, even at best you are little more than a paid servant yourself.’
‘Is that what you think?’ I picked up the bills and knocked their edges flush on the scarred surface of the desk. ‘Here.’ I held them out to him. ‘Take them, return my receipt, and then get out of here.’
‘What!’ He was more than startled, he was shocked. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You’ve picked the wrong man,’ I said tightly. ‘If you want a yes-sirring lap-dog you won’t find him here. Good night, Colonel. Don’t trip over the body.’
He flushed, his wrinkled skin warming to the unusual flow of blood, and his hands, as he gripped his cane, showed tense the knuckles white with strain. I thought that he was going to hit me, and I didn’t care if he tried. He swallowed.
‘Could you recommend such a man?’
‘A dozen,’ I said cheerfully. ‘They will take your money and dance to your tune. They will wipe their feet and remember to say “sir,” and they’ll be very, very polite. But they won’t find your wife and, if they do find anything else, they’ll make you pay for it—but good.’
