The Bamboo Blonde (22 page)

Talk about decorating, her eye! "What did Vinnie want?"

"The nearest I could judge," Dare laughed beautifully, "it was to share a sack of peanut brittle. He worked in some questions about Shelley. When I told him I did not know she was Vironova's mistress, he almost choked."

Her eyebrows met. "I'd like to know why she descended on me to get herself done in. I wish I'd murdered her myself long ago. I'd have done a neat job, one of those careful poisonings that no one suspects until after you've served up a baker's dozen. Of course. Shelley wouldn't have cared for that, no publicity. But there'd be no involving everyone who happened to be in town that night."

"You weren't in town," Griselda reminded.

"No." Dare fitted a cigarette into the elongated scarlet tube. "I'd be clear of the mess if she hadn't descended on me."

"Major Pembrooke wasn't in town."

Dare looked under her brows. "He has nothing to do with this. What about Walker Travis, Griselda? The
Antarctica
isn't as far as Avalon, and he has special privileges, you know. You can't cross him off just because he is Walker Travis. I don't believe Thusby has. He and the Admiral weren't going out to the
Antarctica
today for the choppy ride."

"You mean they were
going out to question the lieutenant?"

Dare laughed. "What else?"

Griselda said, "They won't see him. He's on shore." Dare cut her laugh as with a knife. "How do you know?"

"He came here."
She couldn't say why. "Looking for Con."

Dare was stamping out her cigarette in the tray.

Kew said, "There goes our theory. I thought Thusby might be searching for Con on the
Antarctica,
that Walker Travis could have been hiding him out. But if he doesn't know where Con is—" He rammed his hands in his pockets.

Griselda spoke softly then. "Mannie Martin has been found." Both of them looked at her and her heart stopped beating. This wasn't news.

Dare turned away. "I'm going. Griselda, I don't think you should stay here alone. I don't think it's safe. I'll offer you a bed again—if you're superstitious, I'll take it and you can have mine. Won't you?" She seemed sincere, almost likable.

But Griselda refused. "I can't leave here. Dare. Thank you."

Dare knew why but she
was certain it wasn't safe. She stood hesitant.

Kew said to her, "Don't worry. I'll stay with Griselda."

"You're being absurd." Griselda told them. "I'm not afraid." But she was. Her eyes saw the bay window, the thin door. They saw the neighboring cottage,
too near now.

Kew continued, "I'm used to night shifts. I'll do my sleeping daytimes. Griselda mustn't be left alone."

She was helpless between them. He and Dare were saying something secret to each other. She didn't know exactly but she knew they were determined she was not to be left alone.

Dare smiled. "I knew I wasn't essential. I'll see you tomorrow. Happy dreams."

Griselda locked the door at once. Even if Kew were present, there should be no unannounced intruders this time. She said, "I really don't think you need stay. I'm not worried. I've been here alone before and safe."

"You weren't safe tonight before we came." She didn't answer him.

"Two are stronger than one, Griselda. I've plenty of work to keep me busy. I'll park out here." He came to her, spoke seriously. "Mannie has been found. That means this thing will tighten up. I'm sure if Con could let us know, he'd want us to watch out for you. You don't mind, do you?"

"I don't mind." It didn't do any good to mind. She smiled. "And I'm going to bed right now. I'm frazzled."

"Good night. Will it bother you if I use Con's typewriter? Keep you awake?"

She answered, "Will it keep me awake? With Con my husband?"

She closed the bedroom door.

If she
could
tell Kew about the envelope! But she was afraid to speak; she had been warned. She didn't know what to do. Maybe it was better this way, better that Con didn't receive the information. Maybe Pembrooke would go away now that he had what he wanted. For the first time since Con's abrupt desertion she prepared
for
bed comfortably, not hearkening to rasps and rustles. Kew was outside the door. Nevertheless, she wished him miles away. If Con did appear, she didn't want an audience.

* * *

Waking brought knowledge. She had been foggy thinking Con would come here. He'd figure by staying away she would be safe, not realizing that she was more menaced than he at the moment. All along he'd stressed keeping her out of it. She could go out without fear of missing him. And she must go. The lieutenant must be told that it was undelivered, the envelope containing the information which he didn't know he had. Not who had stolen it, no suggestion of that, merely that it was gone. She dressed rapidly. The navy-blue reefer—mornings were cool—would hide the bruised look of her cheek.

Kew said, "You're up early."

"I'm going into action." She had no nerves now. Daylight was reassuring.

"Take my car if you'd like."

"I'd like." Anything but that shattering wreck. "Shall I drop you at the hotel?"

He looked at her. "I don't think we should leave this place empty. If you have an extra blanket I can throw over me, I'll take a snooze on the bed. When you return, I'll go back to the hotel and change."

She didn't tell him Con wouldn't come. Even reasoning didn't make that absolutely certain. Con had unexplainable vagaries. She didn't think he would come but if he did, it would be well for Kew to be there.

It was no more than nine but surely Walker Travis would be up; reveille made early habits. She used the house phone. Kathie's voice answered, even half asleep
it
wasn't irritable, it held that unbelievable sweetness. "No. He went back to the ship this morning." He'd changed his plans then because he couldn't reach Con.

She asked, "When will he return?"

"I really don't know, Mrs. Satterlee. He never tells me."

Griselda hesitated. "If he comes in today, tell him I want to see him, will you?"

"Yes, I will." The voice asked softly, sleepily, "Is Kew with you?"

"No. He's at the house."

There was no response to that as if sleep had claimed the voice upstairs again. Griselda left Kathie to her slumbers. She went again into the open.

She didn't want to stop at Dare's but she must find out if Dare had seen Walker Travis. She'd certainly rushed off at his name. His change of plan could have resulted from that meeting.

The apartment faced Bixby Park but on the Junipero side. Shelley would have had to walk the entire square of the park to meet death.

There was a slight wait before Dare's voice said through the speaker, "Second floor front. Come up." She opened the door herself to Griselda. "I'm not dressed. I was getting ready for the beach." She didn't look messy before dressing as Kathie did; her dark hair was sleek against her shoulders, the gray slipper satin robe was pulled tight about the figure men always mentioned, the color of her lips and nails was a bright foil to her perfect tan. "Come on in while I step into a suit. I've a day off. The admiral took the major to San Diego early—to view Mannie's effects."

The bedroom was sleek, clean, too. Dare caught up the flag-red suit and went beyond into the bathroom. She called back, "No trouble last night?"

"No." Griselda was staring at the ashtray on the bed table. Some of the stubs wore the red circlet of a woman's. Some of them didn't. That was the way Con put out cigarettes, crumpled them up on their sides, all the same length. One was still sending up smoke. And the closet door, ajar, showed a paisley heap on the floor. Dare didn't throw her clothes on the floor. Con's aim at a closet hook had never yet been successful. She felt a little sick inside. Chang had packed those orange pajamas, bought special for the honeymoon. The blue paisleys Con had bought for the first honeymoon had done a one-horse chaise just before the second wedding. Con didn't believe in being overstocked with night clothes; he didn't believe in night clothes.

Dare returned quickly. The red on the golden brown was a flaunt. She said, "I asked, any trouble?" She went to the closet, opened the door wide, hung up her robe, stooped and hung the pajamas. She brought out white clogs and a white beach reefer. But Griselda wasn't watching this. She was looking out of the window at the fire escape. Dare went on talking, "I tried to reach you this morning but no answer."

"Kew went to bed when I left." Why couldn't they choose up sides again? Kew wanted Dare; she wanted Con. But Con and Dare wouldn't trade. "Nothing happened." Why had Con married her again? Did he have to be married to her to have any fun with Dare? It wasn't her idea of fun. She came back to sit on the bed. The closet door was closed now; the ashtray was emptied into the wastebasket. "Have you any news?"

"Nothing at all. I tried to see Walker but the Travises were out. That's her kind. I knew it when I met her. Coldblooded, selfish little beast with all that icing on top of her face. Walker comes in worn out, sick, to spend a quiet evening, and she drags him out. Her first husband was a suicide, did you know? Shot himself. Couldn't take it any longer I presume. And this second doesn't have any sense where she's concerned, follows where she beckons. I could spit on her."

She reddened her lips again, perfumed them, brushed down the shining hair. No wonder Con went for her. She flaunted sex like a new hat. But it wasn't fair. He should come home.

She went on, "She hustles anything in pants. Regular small-town Kansas belle. She trailed Mannie until he practically had to tell her to lay off. He needed Walker too much to risk trouble. Then Kew came along and she moved over on his side, lock, stock, and barrel." If Dare hadn't known Mannie, she certainly had known where to go for information.

But Griselda couldn't stay here trying to meet Dare's gossip, trying to ignore that sickness licking over her. No wonder Dare was pleased with the world. She wasn't. She had to get away quickly. She made some sort of excuse; she would never remember what, and she ran.

If she wanted to reach Con, she knew now who could make arrangements. Her eyes stung. She had too much stubborn pride ever to ask Dare. She needed him the worst way but she'd do without him forever before that. She braked the car the way she would like to brake all roving husbands, particularly her own.

Kew met her at the door. "I was about to borrow your car. I have to run into town and file some stuff."

She'd meant to ask him before. "Did I have any calls last night or this morning?"

"Not last night. I wouldn't have heard a fire alarm this morning." He was ready to leave. "I'll run in again after lunch. Anything you want to do?"

"No." She would stay right here and mull over the perfidy of the genus male species husband. She was a fool to let it matter. That's what had made trouble before. If she had any sense she'd take Con as he was. For better and for worse, usually worse. Her sickness was leaving as her anger increased. Some day she'd serve him the same way, see how he liked it! He wouldn't. All males (species husband) believed in the double standard. And she wouldn't anyway; no man in the world save Con meant any whit to her. Con had spoiled other men simply by being Con.

She didn't understand why Si hadn't called back unless he were on a really good one. Just in case it happened to be actual work delaying him, she'd wait the day before checking. Apparently that was her role in the affair, to sit and wait. If only the omniscient Burke would call.

A watched phone never rang. She changed to her bathing suit, descended to the beach below. Flat on her back she looked up at the sea wall, the rocks smoothed by endless planing of the waters, seemingly no possible foothold. Maybe Chang was a pixie, really hidden in the cottage, creeping out when best to upset her.

It was late afternoon when Kew returned. He halloed from the cat walk and she ran to join him. He'd brought a grip. "You don't mind? I'm not moving in on you but it's rather hard not to have a few things handy."

She didn't think his pajamas would be orange cotton or that he would wad them on the floor. They weren't and he hung their monogrammed ice-blue perfection as carefully as a suit. He said, "I had lunch at the Hilton. Garth's back from the fishing trip."

She didn't believe it. It was to last two weeks. "Are you certain it was he?"

"Saw him face to face."

"Do you think
" She couldn't ask it. Garth wouldn't turncoat so entirely to return to track Con in person. "Did you see Kathie?"

"Talked to her by phone. She was spending the day in bed resting up from last night. Said she and Walker got in pretty late."

"She didn't say why he went back to the ship?" She explained, "He planned to be in town all day."

"Maybe he went to rest up." Kew mixed a drink.

The telephone rang. Si at last. But it wasn't. It was Dare. "Griselda, can you hop over here at once? I need help." She didn't sound worried; she sounded efficiently decisive.

Griselda didn't ever want to go near Dare's again. This might be an invitation to see Con. She wouldn't go. Another woman had no business inviting her to see her own husband. She began excuses but Dare cut her off.