“I... I suppose that’d be all right,” she said.
“Fine. May I have the address?”
She gave it to him, and he told her he’d be there in about an hour, if that was all right with her. He went to the coffee counter then, ordered coffee and a toasted English, and browsed over them until it was time to go. He bought a plain white envelope on the way out, slipped twenty dollars into it, and sealed it. Then he hailed a cab.
He found the mailbox marked A. Trimble, and realized the initial sufficed for both Alice and Anne. He walked up two flights, stopped outside apartment 22, and thumbed the ivory stud in the doorjamb. A series of chimes floated from beyond the door, and then the peephole flap was thrown back.
“I’m Mr. Davis,” he said to the flap. “I called about—”
“Oh, yes,” Anne Trimble said. The flap descended, and the door swung wide.
She was a tall brunette, and her costume emphasized her height. She was wearing tightly tailored toreador slacks. A starched white blouse with a wide collar and long sleeves was tucked firmly into the band of the slacks. A bird in flight, captured in sterling, rested on the blouse just below the left breast pocket.
“Come in,” she said, “won’t you?” She had green eyes and black eyebrows, and she smiled pleasantly now.
Davis stepped into the cool apartment, and she closed the door behind him.
“I’m sorry if I seemed rude when you called,” she said. “I’m afraid you woke me.”
“Then I should be the one to apologize,” Davis said.
He followed her into a sunken living room furnished in Swedish modern. She walked to a long, low coffee table and took a cigarette from a box there, offering the box to him first. Davis shook his head and watched her as she lighted the cigarette. Her hair was cut close to her head, ringing her face with ebony wisps. She wore only lipstick, and Davis reflected that this was the first truly beautiful woman he had ever met. Two large, silver hoop earrings hung from her ears. She lifted her head, and the earrings caught the rays of the sun streaming through the blinds.
“Now,” she said. “You’re a friend of Tony’s, are you?”
“Yes,” he answered. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out the sealed envelope. “First, let me get this off my mind. Please tell Tony I sincerely appreciate the loan, won’t you?”
She took the envelope without comment, dropping it on the coffee table.
This is a very cool one, Davis thought.
“I was really surprised to learn that Tony was married,” he said.
“It was a little sudden, yes,” she said.
“Oh? Hadn’t he known your sister long?”
“Three months, four months.”
Davis shook his head.
“I still can’t get over it. How’d he happen to meet her?”
“Like that,” Anne said. “How do people meet? A concert, a club, a soda fountain.” She shrugged. “You know, people meet.”
“Don’t you like Tony?” he asked suddenly.
She seemed surprised. “Me? Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I think he’ll be very good for Alice. He has a strong personality, and she needs someone like him. Yes, I like Tony.”
“Well, that’s good,” Davis said.
“When we came to Frisco, you see, Alice was sort of at loose ends. We’d lived in L.A. all our lives, and Alice depended on Mom a good deal, I suppose. When Mom passed away, and this job opening came for me... well, the change affected her. Moving and all. It was a good thing Tony came along.”
“You live here alone then, just the two of you?”
Anne Trimble smiled and sucked in a deep cloud of smoke. “Just two little gals from Little Rock,” she said.
Davis smiled with her. “L.A., you mean.”
“The same thing. We’re all alone in the world. Just Alice and me. Dad died when we were both little girls. Now, of course, Alice is married. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m very happy for her.”
“When were they married?”
“January sixth,” she answered. “It’s been a long honeymoon.”
January sixth, Davis thought. The day the DC-4 crashed. “Where are they now?” he asked.
“Las Vegas.”
“Where in Las Vegas?”
Anne Trimble smiled again. “You’re not planning on visiting a pair of honeymooners, are you, Mr. Davis?”
“God, no,” he said. “I’m just curious.”
“Fact is,” Anne said, “I don’t know where they’re staying. I’ve only had a wire from them since they got married. I don’t imagine they’re thinking much about me. Not on their honeymoon.”
“No, I guess not,” Davis said, and smiled. “I understand Tony left his job. Is that right?”
“Yes. It didn’t pay much, and Tony is really a brilliant person. He and Alice said they’d look around after the honeymoon and settle wherever he could get located.”
“When did he quit?”
“A few days before they were married, I think. No, wait, it was on New Year’s Eve, that’s right. He quit then.”
“Then he wasn’t selling tickets on the day of...”
Anne looked at him strangely.
“The day of what?”
“The day he was married,” Davis said quickly.
“No, he wasn’t.” She continued looking at him, and then asked, “How do you happen to know Tony, Mr. Davis?”
“The Army,” Davis said. “The last war.”
“That’s quite a feat,” Anne said.
“Huh?” Davis looked up.
“Tony was in the Navy.”
Once again, he felt like a damn fool. He cursed the crashed plane, and he cursed George Ellison, and he cursed the stupidity that had led him to take the job in the first place. He sighed deeply.
“Well,” he said. “I guess I didn’t meet him in the Army.”
“I guess you didn’t meet him at all,” Anne said. She was staring at him coldly now. “Maybe you’d better get out, Mr. Davis. If that’s your name.”
“It’s my name. Look,” he said, “I’m a private eye. I’m investigating the crash for my client. I thought...”
“What crash?”
“A DC-4 took a dive in Seattle. My client’s daughter was aboard her when she went down. There was also a bomb aboard.”
“Is this another one of your stories?”
Davis lifted his right hand. “God’s truth, s’help me. I’m trying to find whoever put the bomb aboard.”
“And you think Tony did?”
“No, I didn’t say that. But I’ve got to investigate all the possibilities.”
Anne suddenly smiled. “Are you new at this business?”
“No, I’ve been at it a long time now. This case is a little out of my usual line.”
“You called yourself a private eye. Do private eyes really call themselves that? I thought that was just for the paperback trade.”
“I’m afraid we really do,” Davis said. “Private Investigator, shortened to Private I, and then naturally to private eye.”
“It must be exciting.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s usually deadly dull.” He rose and said, “Thanks very much for your time, Miss Trimble. I’m sorry I got to see you on a ruse, but...”
“You should have just asked. I’m always willing to help the cause of justice.” She smiled again. “And I think you’d better take this money back.”
“Well, thanks again,” he said, taking the envelope.
“Not at all,” she said. She led him to the door, and shook his hand. Her grip was firm and warm. “Good luck,” she said.
The door whispered shut behind him.
He stood in the hallway for a few moments, sighed, and then made his way down to the courtyard and the street.
The time has come, he thought, to replenish the bank account. If Ellison expects me to chase hither and yon, then Ellison should also realize I’m a poor boy, raised by the side of a railroad car. And if a trip to Vegas is in the offing... the time has come to replenish the bank account.