“Why do you say it in that particular tone?”
“I wasn’t aware of my tone.”
“I was. You sounded as if you thought Evelyn had something to do with the man’s death.”
“There’s no question in my mind. And two men have died.”
She was shaken but obstinate. “There must be some terrible mistake. Ev is the gentlest creature in the world.”
“Perhaps the one you know is. The other...”
“There is no other!” But the strength had gone out of her. She slumped into a chair, the back of her right hand pressed against her trembling mouth. “How... how did her husband die?”
“He killed himself.”
“And the other man?”
“He was stabbed in the throat with a barber’s shears sometime this morning.”
“My God,” she said. “My God.” And her hand slid down to her throat as if to try to staunch an invisible flow of blood. “She’ll be here at any time. What am I going to do?”
“Nothing. Act as if nothing’s happened.”
“How can I?”
“You must. Helen Clarvoe’s life may be at stake.”
“There’s no chance you’ve — made a mistake?”
“There’s always that chance, Mrs. Laurence, but it’s pretty small. When she called Mrs. Clarvoe about Helen this afternoon she made no secret of her identity; she was even proud of herself.”
He told her the content of the telephone call. She listened in stunned silence, rubbing the same place on her neck over and over again.
Outside, the spaniel began to bark. Blackshear turned and looked out of the window. A young woman was coming up the walk, laughing, while the spaniel jumped around her in frenzied delight. As she reached the steps of the porch, she leaned down and put out her arms and the spaniel leaped up into them. Both the girl and the dog looked very pleased with themselves at this remarkable feat.
It was Blackshear’s first sight of Evelyn Merrick, and he thought how ironic it was that he should see her like this, laughing, greeting a dog — the gentlest creature in the world, Claire Laurence had said.
He turned and looked at Claire. There were tears in her eyes. She brushed them away with the back of her hand as she went to unlock the door.
“Did you see that, Claire? She finally did it, jumped right up into my arms! John said he’s been trying to teach her that for years. How’s your cold?”
“Much better, thanks,” Claire said. “We have company.”
“Company? Good.”
“Come in and meet Mr. Blackshear.”
“Just a sec, I’ll shed my coat.”
When she came into the room she was smiling slightly, but it was a guarded smile, as if she already suspected that the company wasn’t the kind she would enjoy. She had short dark hair and gray eyes that borrowed a little blue from the shirtwaist dress she was wearing. When Blackshear had first seen her greeting the spaniel she had seemed strikingly pretty. Now her animation was gone and she looked quite commonplace. When she shook hands, her clasp was limp and uninterested.
Blackshear said, “I heard Mrs. Laurence call me company. The term isn’t quite accurate.”
She raised her dark straight brows. “No?”
“I would like to ask you some questions, if I may, Miss Merrick.”
“You may. I may even answer them.”
“Mr. Blackshear is trying to find a woman who disappeared.” Claire said. “I told him you probably don’t know a thing about it.” She caught Blackshear’s warning glance and added, “I’ll go and make some coffee.”
When she had gone, Evelyn said lightly, “This sounds very intriguing. Tell me more. Is it anyone I know?”
“Helen Clarvoe.”
“Helen. Good heavens, I think that’s the last name in the world I expected to hear. You say she’s disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“That is odd. Helen just doesn’t do that sort of thing. She’s shall we say, on the conservative side.”
“Yes.”
“Still, she’s old enough to do what she likes and if she wants to disappear, why should anyone try and find her?”
“I’m not sure she wanted to.”
“Oh, really?” She seemed amused. “Helen isn’t quite as dull as she acts, you know. There may be a man involved.”
“I doubt that.”
“In any case, I don’t see how I can help you, Mr. Blackshear. I’ll try, though.”
“Thank you.”
“Fire ahead.”
“Are you acquainted with South Flower Street, Miss Merrick?”
“South Flower? That’s downtown, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose I’ve driven along it. It’s not the kind of section I’m familiar with, however.”
“How long is it since you’ve seen Helen Clarvoe?”
“Over a year.”
“Have you talked to her on the telephone?”
“Of course not. Why should I? We have nothing to discuss.”
“There’s no bad feeling between you?”
“There’s no feeling at all between us. Not on my side, anyway.”
“You were good friends at one time.”
“In school, yes. That,” she added with a shrug, “was a long time ago.”
“You married Helen’s brother, Douglas.”
“I wouldn’t say married. We went through a ceremony. Do you mind if I ask you a question now?”
“Not at all.”
“Where did you get all your information about me?”
“From your mother.”
She looked genuinely amused. “I might have guessed. Mother’s a great talker. She bares her soul to the milkman or the boy who delivers the groceries. Unfortunately, she bares mine too.”
“Have you seen Douglas recently, Miss Merrick?”
“No, I haven’t seen him. I’ve talked to him, though.”
“When?”
“He telephoned me last night.”
“Here?”
“Yes. After Claire had gone to bed.”
“How did he know you were here?”
“I presume he called the house first and Mother gave him this number.”
“Do you think that’s likely, in view of the resentment she feels towards him?”
“He probably didn’t give his name.” She added with a touch of scorn, “I assure you I haven’t been keeping in touch with him. As far as the Clarvoes are concerned, I’ve had it. They’re a good family to stay away from.”
“What was Douglas’ reason for calling, Miss Merrick?”
“I don’t know. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since the annulment. He sounded lonely and confused. I was a little of both myself, so we talked. Mostly about old times, years ago when Helen and I were at school together and I used to go home with her for holidays and weekends. Dougie, we called him then, and he was always tagging around after us, no matter how much we teased him. Even Helen was happy in those days. Funny how everything’s turned out.”
But she spoke with complete detachment, as if the Evelyn of those times had no connection with herself. Blackshear wondered when the split in her personality had begun. Perhaps it had been there from infancy and no one suspected. Or perhaps it had started during her teens, during the very times she’d been reminiscing about to Douglas, the “happy” days. It was possible that those were the “happy” days because she had already started on her flight from reality.
Of one thing he was almost certain, the split in her personality was complete. The woman he was talking to was unaware of the existence of her deformed twin. She remembered talking to Douglas on the telephone the previous night, and yet he knew that if he told her she had also talked to Mrs. Clarvoe, and in quite a different fashion, she would be incredulous and probably very angry. Nothing would be gained by antagonizing her. His job was to wait until the change occurred and the twin took over. Only the twin knew what had happened to Helen Clarvoe and where she was now. South Flower Street was miles long and had more brothels than restaurants.