It was fear, he realized with a start. Most of the people in the room were afraid of something.
He smiled at that thought, because it seemed so melodramatic and unlikely; but then he noticed troubled expressions on several faces, and the speculative way many of the men watched May; and that, plus the odd silence and the nervous shifting about of a few people, made him realize that his first, instinctive judgment had been right.
There was fear in the room, and it was fear of May.
Sheila came over to him and asked if he was ready to leave. He said all right and started to tell her what he had noticed; but the mood of the room had changed by that time. He wondered if his imagination was becoming overactive and decided to keep still.
The knocker sounded as Jake helped her into her coat in the foyer. The maid hurried past them and opened the door.
Dan Riordan and Gary Noble walked in and Gary did a double-take on seeing Jake. But he seemed pleased, and Jake guessed it was because it would indicate to Riordan that the agency was wasting no time.
Riordan nodded to Sheila as Jake made the introductions. Then he said, “Have you talked with May?”
“Yes.”
Riordan said, “Did she mention me?”
“I did,” Jake said. “She hinted that she might have something—” He paused, looking for a tactful word, then gave it up and said, “She’s got something on you, or thinks she has, but we didn’t get too specific.”
Riordan took a long, deliberate breath, and then nodded jerkily at Sheila and strode toward the parlor.
“I’ll stick with him,” Noble said. “He called me after you left, said he wanted to see May tonight. He’s a stubborn character.”
“We were leaving, remember?” Sheila said.
They found a cab outside and started for Dave’s.
“Why the frown?” Sheila said quietly, as Jake fumbled for cigarettes.
“May. She’s drifting into trouble. And I’ll be damned if I see why. I just can’t figure it out.”
He told her what he had learned from May, and they talked about it that night until Sheila yawned pointedly, and Jake changed the subject.
Chapter Three
Jake reached the office at ten the next morning. The receptionist said Noble wished to see him right away, so Jake walked down to his office. Noble was at the bar and looked unhappy. But he brightened when Jake came in.
“Care for a drink?” he said.
Jake said no and sat down beside Noble’s desk. “What’s up?”
“Well, the session with May last night accomplished very little.” Noble brought the drink to his desk and sat down in his leather-backed swivel chair. “Damn that woman,” he said in the voice one would use to damn the weather, or any other disagreeable but inevitable phenomenon. “She seemed to go out of her way to antagonize Riordan. I never pretended to understand her, but now, by God, I don’t think anyone can.”
“What happened?”
Noble lit a cigarette and ran a hand through his rumpled white hair. “The bare facts won’t give you an idea of the way it was.” Noble waved a hand futilely. “It was as if she were the only one there who wasn’t afraid of something.”
“I think I know what you mean. Go on.”
“Riordan wasn’t in a good mood, in the first place. He picked me up at the office and didn’t talk on the way to May’s. He barged into May’s parlor and told her he wanted to talk with her.”
Noble put out his cigarette, then lit another and frowned at the curling smoke. “I can’t describe it very well,” he said. “But the impression I got was that May was deliberately trying to be as bitchy as possible. He asked about her book, and she immediately expressed vast surprise that he cared about literature. Riordan knew he was being laughed at. But he stuck his ground. He said he’d heard about the book and that he hoped she wasn’t using anything which he’d told her in confidence.”
Jake said, “Was everybody at the party listening to this?”
“Hard to say. Neither of them raised their voices, but I suppose they could have been overheard if anyone bothered to listen. Anyway, May kept needling Riordan, but she did it in that good humored, little-girl manner she affects at times. She asked him what he was worried about, and from her attitude you might think she really didn’t know.”
“Well, what is Riordan worried about?” Jake said. “This vague talk of exposes and so forth is unconvincing as hell. Does May have something specific and damaging on him?”
“I don’t know. He acts as if she did. Last night I got the impression he would enjoy strangling her, slowly and carefully.”
“How did their talk end?”
“It didn’t really end, in the sense that anything was settled. Riordan warned her not to use anything about him, said she’d be making a mistake. May pretended to believe he was referring to the artistic problems of selection, and so forth, and assured him she would be most careful in her choice of incidents. She told him very sweetly that biography in the de Sévigné manner was a form that required a blending of techniques at their highest level of effectiveness, and that any mistake she made would only be because she aspired too high. She laughed then and said he probably hadn’t the vaguest idea of what she was talking about, and added that this was not at all surprising considering his bourgeois predilections.”
“Nice sweet exit line,” Jake said.
Noble shrugged and sipped his drink. “Riordan is mad as hell, Jake. He’s going to be hard to handle.”
“Let’s not worry about that. Isn’t his man due here this morning with some facts and figures?”
“I forgot. Riordan called this morning and said Avery Meed — that’s his secretary — couldn’t make it today, but will be here tomorrow morning. That gives us a day’s grace.”
The phone on Noble’s desk buzzed. He lifted it, listened, then handed it to Jake. “For you.”
Jake said, “Hello.”
There was a pause. Then: “Jake, it’s May. I have melodramatic news right out of a grade B thriller. Someone tried to break into my little bagnio early this morning. Isn’t that interesting?”
“That’s nothing funny,” Jake said.
“It’s hardly tragic, however,” May said. “What I called for was to see if you could have coffee with me this morning. I feel in the mood for you. How about it?”
“Sure, I’ll come right over.”
Jake hung up, glanced at Noble. “Someone tried to break into May’s last night.”
“She’s a damn idiot,” Noble said shortly. “She’ll get into trouble and make a mess for everyone. You know how the papers would love to latch onto her tie-up with Riordan? That would shoot our campaign right in the tail.”
“I’m going out to have breakfast with her now,” Jake said. “Maybe this is a good thing. It might frighten her into using her head.”
The cab ride to May’s was pleasant. The colors were changing in the shrubs and trees of the park, and the gray fall waters of the lake were smooth as slate except for occasional lacy whitecaps.
May met him at the door and led him to her study, which was on the first floor, facing the morning sun. It was a brisk room, done in white leather, and furnished with deep chairs, an enormous coffee table, and a desk piled high with books and manuscript. A silver coffee service was on the coffee table, and the white Venetian blinds were drawn against the morning sun. The room was pleasantly dim.
May wore a simple gray dress with gray suede shoes, and her heavy, shining hair was looped up into a low chignon. Her eyes were clear, and her skin was fresh and blooming. She looked like an enormously healthy and beautiful school teacher who bought her clothes in Paris.