He thought no more about it. He hailed a cab for which Ellison would pay, and headed for the old man’s estate.
The butler opened the door and announced, “Mr. Davis, sir.”
Davis smiled at him and entered the room. It was full of plates and pitchers and cups and saucers and mugs and jugs and platters. For a moment Davis thought he’d wandered into the pantry by error, but then he saw Ellison seated behind a large desk.
Ellison did not look old, even though Davis knew he was somewhere in his seventies. He had led an easy life, and the rich are expert at conserving their youth. The only signs of age on Ellison were in his face. It was perhaps a bit too ruddy for good health, and it reminded him of MacGregor’s complexion, but Ellison was not a fat man. He had steel-gray hair cropped close to his head. His brows were black, in direct contrast to the hair on his head, and his eyes were a penetrating pale blue. Davis wondered from whom Janet had inherited her red hair, then let the thought drop when Ellison rose and extended his hand.
“Ah, Davis, come in,” he said. “Come in.”
Davis walked to the desk, and Ellison took his hand in a tight grip.
“Hope you don’t mind talking in here,” he said. “I’ve got a new piece of porcelain, and I wanted to mount it.”
“Not at all,” Davis said.
“Know anything about porcelain?” Ellison asked.
“Not a thing, sir.”
“Pity. Volkstedt wouldn’t mean anything to you then, would it?”
“No, sir.”
“Or Rudolstadt? It’s more generally known as that.”
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Davis said.
“Here now,” Ellison said. “Look at this sauceboat.”
Davis looked.
“This dates back to 1783, Davis. Here, look.” He turned over the sauceboat, but he did not let it out of his hands. “See the crossed hayforks? That’s the mark, you know, shows it’s genuine stuff. Funny thing about this. The mark so resembles the Meissen crossed swords...” He seemed suddenly to remember that he was not talking to a fellow connoisseur. He put the sauceboat down swiftly but gently. “Have you learned anything yet, Davis?”
“A little, Mr. Ellison. I’m here mainly for money.”
Ellison looked up sharply and then began chuckling. “You’re a frank man, aren’t you?”
“I try to be,” Davis said. “When it concerns money.”
“How much will you need?”
“A thousand will do it. I’ll probably be flying to Vegas and back, and I may have to spread a little money for information while I’m there.”
Ellison nodded briefly. “I’ll give you a check before you leave. What progress have you made?”
“Not very much. Do you know anyone named Tony Radner?”
Ellison looked up swiftly. “Why?”
“He put your daughter on that DC-4, sir. Do you know him?”
Ellison’s mouth lengthened, and he tightened his fists on the desktop. “Has that son of a bitch got something to do with this?” he asked.
“Do you know him, sir?”
“Of course I do! How do you know he put Janet on that plane?”
“An eyewitness, sir.”
“I’ll kill that bastard!” Ellison shouted. “If he had anything to do with...”
“How do you know him, Mr. Ellison?”
Ellison’s rage subsided for a moment. “Janet was seeing him,” he said.
“What do you mean, seeing him?”
“She fancied herself to be in love with him.”
“You mean she knew him before she met Carruthers?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean she was seeing him after she and Nick were married. She... she had the supreme gall to tell me she wanted a divorce from Nick.” Ellison clenched his hands and then relaxed them again. “You don’t know Nick, Davis. He’s a fine boy, one of the best I feel toward him the way I’d feel toward my own son. I never had any boys, Davis, and Janet wasn’t much of a daughter.” He paused. “I’m grateful I’ve still got Nick,” he said.
“Did Carruthers know she wanted to divorce him?”
“No,” Ellison said. “When she told me, I said I’d cut her off without a penny if she did any such damn-fool tiling. She changed her mind mighty fast after that. Janet was used to money, Davis. The idea of marrying a ticket seller didn’t appeal to her when she knew she’d have to do without it”
“So she broke off with him?”
“On the spot.”
“When was this?”
“About six months ago,” Ellison said. “I thought it was over and done with. Now you tell me he put her on that plane. I don’t know what to think.”
Davis nodded.
“It is a little confusing.”
“You don’t suppose they were going to be together in Washington, do you? Damn it, I wouldn’t put it past her!”
“I don’t think so. At least... well, wouldn’t they have flown together if that were the case?”
“Not if she didn’t want to be seen. She was traveling on a company pass, you know.”
“That seems odd,” Davis said. “I mean—”
“You mean, with all the money I gave them both, why was she traveling on a pass?” Ellison smiled. “Nick’s a proud boy. Getting Janet her ticket was one of the things that kept his pride going.”
“You gave them money, huh?”
“I still give Nick money. He’s all I’ve got now.”
“I see,” Davis said, and washed his hand over his face. “Well, I’ll talk to Radner. Did you know he was married now?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes. On the day of the crash.”
“On the day... then what on earth was he doing with Janet?”
“That’s a good question,” Davis said. He paused, and then added, “Can I have that check now?”
It was not until after dinner that evening that Nicholas Carruthers showed up. Davis had eaten lightly, and after a hasty cigarette had begun packing a small bag for the Vegas trip. When the knock sounded on the door to his apartment, he dropped a pair of shorts into the suitcase and called, “Who is it?”
“Me. Carruthers.”
“Second,” Davis said. He went to the door rapidly, wondering what had occasioned this visit from the pilot. He threw back the night latch and then unlocked the door.
Carruthers was in uniform this time. He wore a white shirt and black tie, together with the pale blue trousers and jacket of the airline. A peaked cap was tilted rakishly on his head.
“Surprised to see you,” Davis said. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” Carruthers said. He glanced around the simply furnished apartment noncommittally, then stepped inside and took off his cap, keeping it in his hands.
“Something to drink?” Davis asked. “Scotch okay?”
“Please,” Carruthers replied.
“What’s on your mind?” Davis asked.
Carruthers looked into the depths of his glass, sipped a bit of the scotch, and then looked lip.
“Janet,” he said.
“What about her?”
“Let it lie. Tell the old man you’re dropping it. Let it lie.”
“Why?”
“How much is the old man paying you?” Carruthers asked, avoiding Davis’s question.
“That’s between the old man and myself.”
“I’ll match it,” Carruthers said. “And then some. Just let’s drop the whole damn thing.”
Davis thought back to the genial Mr. MacGregor. “You remind me of someone else I know,” he said.
Carruthers did not seem interested. “Look, Davis, what does this mean to you, anyway? Nothing. You’re getting paid for a job. All right, I’m willing to pay you what you would have made. So why are you being difficult?”