“Go on, let me alone.”
“Come on, we’ll take a drive and—”
“Please, please!”
“Here, let me wipe your eyes!”
“No! No! Go on, go, go, go!”
I walked around the room, hoped it would pass and that she’d let me talk to her, went over and patted her, but it was no soap. I left, and the next two or three days I didn’t see her.
“Jack, where’s Helen?”
“... I don’t know, Mrs. Legg. Why?”
“Mrs. Brems hasn’t seen her since lunchtime. I’ve had them ring her room and she doesn’t answer, I’ve had her paged — maybe she’s just gone downtown somewhere without leaving word. But — I have a queer feeling something’s wrong.”
“I’ll look into it and call you back.”
I was in my room when they told me the island was calling, in pajamas from the heat, but I dressed quick, went down to the desk, picked up the master key, went to her room, and knocked. There was no answer. I went in and she wasn’t there. I was worried twice as bad as Mrs. Legg was, because I knew there could be an answer I hated to think about. I began looking for a note or something, but didn’t find anything. Her things were all in order, dresses in the closet, panties in the bureau, algebra book on her night table. Under that, when I picked it up to make sure nothing had been slipped in with it, was my picture, one I didn’t know she had, that she must have swiped from Margaret, taken in the Little Lord Fauntleroy suit when I was about her age. It was face down.
I checked with Tolan, the house detective, for what little he knew, and rang Mrs. Legg. She and Mr. Legg were up there in about an hour, and put police and private detectives and God knows who-all to work on it. Around seven, when I was trying to stuff something to eat in me, in the dining room, Margaret came in. I couldn’t face a night on that island alone, so I took the bus.”
“Be pretty rugged at that.”
“Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“But what’s all the fuss about that brat? Can’t she even go to a picture show or take a car ride or whatever she’s done without practically putting bloodhounds on her trail?”
“They’re kind of worried.”
“Well, are you glad to see me?”
“Can’t I be worried too?”
“What about?”
“I don’t know.”
I wasn’t on duty that night, and around nine I went to my room. By that time the whole place was going crazy, and even Margaret was getting mildly interested. I sat there, looking at a sign go on and off down on Centre Street, and kept trying to think what I’d do if I was a young girl and had woke up to the fact I was in love with a guy that I supposed was in love with my sister. And all of a sudden I had a horrible hunch. I rang information for the Finley number on the island, and called. If Dickie was there I was going to give a phony name and say how about doing a job for me with his boat. But I never got that far. The mother answered, and said he wasn’t there. “Do you know where he is, Mrs. Finley? I mean, I’d like to know when he’ll be back.”
“He didn’t say.”
“Is he out in his boat?”
“No, the car.”
Anne Arundel County is the beginning of Dixie, which is just one scrub woods, and Zeke’s place was right on the edge of it, forty or fifty feet off the road, in the middle of a clearing, with scraggly pine and oak and chinquapin all around it. It was one of those log-cabin jobs, known then as a roadhouse, and what went on inside I didn’t know, as I’d never been to one, but according to Denny it was considerably more than the law allowed, whether it was women, wine, or song. I got there around ten, and the first thing I had to do, after parking, was see if the Finley car was there. There were quite a few cars out front, but there’d be no trouble spotting it, because of certain dents. It wasn’t long before I found it, and from its position it had been there some time. I went over and rang the bell and pretty soon the slot opened and a piece of face showed. “Heya? Can a hungry guy get something to eat?”
“We know you?”
“Sure, I’ve been in.”
“Just a minute.”
He went and when he came back another guy was with him that I took to be Zeke. I handed him some chatter, and I’d probably have got away with it, but when I began spending some big Baltimore names I overplayed it. He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s just a little family place I run here, and we’re kind of crowded. And anyway, I’d have to know you. Some other time, maybe.”
The slot closed and there I was. I went back to my car and tried to think. I had no proof, had nothing, except this pounding in my head, that told me to get in there, and get in quick. But I hated to go off half-cocked, hated to have this kid that I’d beaten up, that I knew was in there, see me looking silly over a twelve-year-old girl that maybe wasn’t with him at all. Then I happened to remember something. She loved gum, and it was just as regular as clockwork, when she went in any place, that she’d take out her wad and drop it over the side of the car on the ground. I went over to the Ford. I couldn’t see any gum but when I dropped to my hands and knees I could smell it. Then after I lit some matches I saw it.
I went back and rang again and asked for Zeke and he came. When he saw me he acted sore and came out, the other guy right behind him. “Listen, you, I told you once and I’m telling you again—”
“Just a minute, just a minute.”
“Make it quick.”
“I didn’t come here for a drink and I didn’t come for trouble. But you’ve got a girl in there, twelve years old, and—”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Zeke, in a polite way, I’m asking you.”
“If I had, would I be telling you?”
“You’ll be telling it to a judge in just about ten minutes if you don’t let me in there, so I can get her out. Watch your step, baby. Liquor’s one thing, and as we all know, it’s drunk in the spirit of good clean fun. But children, minor children, daughters of important people, are something else My suggestion to you is, you ask me in, or you may be piling up more trouble for yourself than anybody you know can get you out of.”
“Who are you?”
“Just a friend.”
What the rest of it would have been I don’t know, because just then, from somewhere inside, was a scream, a girl’s scream, and then another. I dived for the door, but the two of them were there ahead of me. I got my foot inside, grabbed for Zeke, got his head out, and hooked a couple on his jaw, but then the other one came out and hit me with something, I don’t know what. I must have gone out for a second, because next thing I knew I was on the ground, the door closing in front of my face, the screaming still going on. But then the screaming stopped and a door opened somewhere and I could hear a scuffle going on. I jumped up and ran off to the side, where I could see her wrestling with somebody, maybe Dickie. She broke clear, and somebody pulled Dickie inside. Then she was in my arms and I carried her to the car. “God, what have they done to you?”
“Nothing, nothing!... Nothing, except try to keep me from going. I knew that was you out there. Oh, Jack, I knew it, I knew it.”
Next thing I knew we were going down the hill to the Severn. I pulled off to one side and parked on the shore, and we sat there, looking at the Naval Academy across the river. We didn’t talk, that I remember. What did we have to say?