He closed the desk drawer with a flourish and turned, smiling with anticipation. Delaney was shocked.
In his eyes, Eunice Blair was an unattractive little wren of twenty-four or five hiding behind a pair of horn rimmed glasses. She had a thin, pointed nose and thin, pale lips devoid of lipstick and a thin, pointed chin. She wore a frilly white blouse above a black jersey skirt, and her hat made him shudder mentally.
Eunice sat primly on the edge of her chair facing Delaney. She was nervously snapping the catch on a large leather bag while her eyes filled with tears. She worked her mouth wordlessly and dabbed at her nose with a piece of Kleenex.
Delaney thumb-nailed a match and lit a cigarette. He watched her for a moment, then growled: “Cut it out. That won’t buy you anything.”
Eunice’s eyes widened in shocked disbelief. Her mouth flew open, then closed with a snap and she glared at him furiously.
Before she could say anything, Delaney grinned: “That’s better. Now, Miss Blair — Eunice — your sister’s missing?”
“Yes—!” Eunice spat the word out and slammed her bag on his desk. Then she looked apprehensive and a flush mounted into her pointed face. She said, “I’m sorry. You made me mad.”
“We haven’t heard from my sister Mavis for six months. She used to write us — my mother and me — every week. Then she stopped.” Eunice’s voice was hesitant at first, then became firm and she spoke more rapidly as she gained confidence.
“When we didn’t hear from Mavis for so long, I came to Los Angeles to see her. But she’s moved. And that place where she was living is an awful, rundown place. Really. The land-lady is awful, too. I asked her where Mavis had moved, but she said she didn’t know and didn’t care. When I asked her how long ago Mavis had moved, she swore at me and slammed the door in my face. You’ve got to help me, Mr. Delaney. Mother will be so worried.”
“Yes — I imagine,” Delaney said drily.
“What do you mean?” Eunice asked.
“The time for your mother to get worried was six months ago,” Delaney said sharply. “Let’s start over again. Suppose you fill in the background this time.”
Eunice had a stricken look on her pale, fox-like face when she spoke again.
“Father passed away several years ago. Since then mother has operated a little cafe in Benson where we girls were born and raised. Mavis and I had to help mother in the cafe. But Mavis didn’t like it. She was too restless. Finally she went to stay with Uncle Jim Kennedy in Tucson.
“Mavis stayed with Uncle Jim for three years, then she came home. But she wasn’t happy. Mavis was home only a few weeks when she left again. This time she went to Los Angeles.”
Delaney grunted with impatience. “How long ago was that?”
“A... a little over a year ago,” Eunice replied.
“And—?” Delaney prompted her bruskly.
“Mavis wrote us every week. Such cheerful letters. Then she stopped writing.” Eunice looked at Delaney helplessly.
“Just like that? Her letters didn’t become fewer and farther between?” Delaney watched Eunice closely.
“They... they just stopped coming,” Eunice faltered. Then, lifting her chin, she added complacently, “So I came to Los Angeles to see Mavis.”
“But you waited six months to do it. You sure worried about your precious sister,” Delaney said disgustedly.
“I... I had to help mother,” Eunice protested tearfully.
Delaney shook his head. “I don’t get it. If you were so upset by what you found here, why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Oh no. Mavis wouldn’t like that,” Eunice said firmly.
“This is a big city,” Delaney said flatly. “There’s more than two million people here. The police have organization, manpower, equipment—”
“Please. Won’t you help me?” Eunice pleaded. Her hand dove into her purse and came up with a wad of money.
Taken back, Delaney stared at the roll of bills which had partially opened in her hand. He could see several fifties and some twenties. He estimated she was holding six or seven hundred dollars in her hand.
Eunice said cautiously: “I’m willing to pay you something in advance. How much will it cost?”
She peeled off three fifties, then hesitantly added one more. Eunice shoved the four bills across the desk and put the others back in her purse. When Delaney didn’t pick up the bills, she got a pinched, frightened look on her face. She patted the money, pushing it closer to him, and asked in a small voice: “What’s the matter — isn’t that enough?”
Delaney hesitated, looking at her narrowly. Then, without touching the money, he asked, “What does Mavis look like?”
Eunice eased back in her chair and let her breath out slowly. She smiled at him for the first time and crossed her legs.
Surprised, Delaney caught a glimpse of smooth satiny roundness — a flash of gleaming ivory above nylons tightly rolled to slim, shapely knees. He looked at Eunice more closely and noted the firm, natural fullness under her frilly white blouse.
Eunice spoke hurriedly, watching his eyes. “Mavis is taller than I am. She has brown hair, wavy and full of highlights — not dull and flat like mine. And... and she’s very pretty.” Eunice dove into her bag and came up with a snapshot.
The picture was clear, with good detail and definition. It showed a woman about three years older than Eunice with bold, striking features. The eyes were large and widely spaced above prominent cheek bones. The nose was large and slightly up tilted above full, sensual lips framing a generous mouth. It was the face of a woman given to reckless impulses, not restraint. Mavis was wearing a white linen dress which clung to her show-girl figure and accented an exciting collection of lush curves. Delaney decided Mavis was quite a dish.
He studied the features and a puzzled frown creased his forehead. He looked at Eunice. “Your sister—?”
“My — half sister. My mother was married before.”
Eunice spoke diffidently while a wave of color mounted into her face. She dropped her gaze and slowly uncrossed her legs, revealing more than was necessary. She dove into her bag again.
“Here’s Mavis’ address. The one I went to. You... you’ll start looking for her right away?”
Eunice left her chair and laid a pencilled slip of paper on Delaney’s desk. She stood expectantly while her eyes questioned him.
Delaney rose to his feet, slowly shaking his head. He picked up the money, folding it, and pressed it into her hand. He said: “You’d better go to the police, Eunice.”
“But why? I... I don’t understand,” she cried, her eyes filling with tears.
“Like I said before, this is a big city. I’m only one guy. I can’t take your money,” Delaney said flatly.
Putting the bills in her purse, Eunice turned blindly towards the door. Her figure sagged and her heels dragged across the floor.
Delaney started to speak, then shrugged his shoulders. He rounded his desk with a grin and lifted her hat from her head.
Startled, Eunice was too surprised to move.
“Leave it off when you go to the cops,” he suggested softly.
“Oh—!” she gasped, snatching her hat from his hand, her tears gone, her face flaming. “I never met such an impertinent man.”
Delaney watched her flounce out of the room then settled in his chair. He started to drop the snapshot of Mavis and the pencilled slip of paper in the waste basket, then carelessly tossed them into a desk drawer. He was just closing the drawer when Elsie’s slim elegant figure slid into the room.
“Al — what happened?”
“I passed her on to the cops,” Delaney grinned. Then, as Elsie’s eyes widened with surprise, he quickly summarized Eunice’s story.
“Something’s fishy,” he finished firmly. “It smells. I wouldn’t touch the deal with a ten foot pole.”