Fear is the Key

She thought a bit and she said: "I can tell you that exactly. It started when we were on holiday with our yacht, the Temptress, in the West Indies late last April. We'd been in Kingston, Jamaica, when Daddy got word from Mummy's lawyers that she wanted a legal separation. You may have heard about it," she went on miserably. "I don't think there was a paper in North America that missed out on the story and some of them were pretty vicious about it."

"You mean the general had been so long held up as the model citizen of the country and their marriage as the ideal family marriage?"

"Yes, something like that. They made a lovely target for all the yellow Press," she said bitterly. "I don't know what came over Mummy, we had all always got on so well together, but it just shows that children never know exactly how things were or are between their parents."

"Children?"

"I was just speaking generally." She sounded tired and dispirited and beaten, and she looked that way. And she was, or she would never have talked to a stranger of such things. "As it happens, there's another girl. Jean, my young sister — she's ten years younger than I am. Daddy married late in life. Jean's with my mother. It looks as if she's going to stay with my mother, too. The lawyers are still working things out. There'll be no divorce, of course." She smiled emptily. "You don't know the New England Ruthvens, Mr. Talbot, but if you did you'd know that there are certain words missing from their vocabulary. ' Divorce' is one of them."

"And your father has never made any attempts at reconciliation?"

"He went up to see her twice. It was no good. She doesn't — she doesn't even want to see me. She's gone away somewhere and apart from Daddy nobody quite knows where. When you have money those things aren't too difficult to arrange." It must have been the mention of the money that sent her thoughts off on a new tack for when she spoke again I could hear those 285 million dollars back in her voice and see the Mayflower in her face. "I don't quite see how all our private family business concerns you, Mr. Talbot."

"Neither do I," I agreed. It was as near as I came to an apology. "Maybe I read the yellow Press, too. I'm only interested in it as far as the Vyland tie-up is concerned. It was at this moment that he stepped in?"

"About then. A week or two later. Daddy was pretty low, I suppose he was willing to listen to any proposal that would take his mind off his troubles, and — and-"

"And, of course, his business judgment was below par. Although it wouldn't have to be more than a fraction below to allow friend Vyland to get Ms foot stuck in the front door. From the cut of his moustache to the way he arranges his display handkerchief Vyland is everything a top-flight industrialist ought to be. He's read all the books about Wall Street, he hasn't missed his Saturday night at the cinema for years, he's got every last littlest trick off to perfection. I don't suppose Royale appeared on the scene until later?"

She nodded dumbly. She looked to me to be pretty close to tears. Tears can touch me, but not when I'm pushed for time. And I was desperately short of time now. I switched off the light, went to the window, pulled back one of the shutters and stared out. The wind was stronger than ever, the rain lashed against the glass and sent the water streaming down the pane in little hurrying rivers. But, more important still, the darkness in the east was lightening into grey, the dawn was in the sky. I turned away, closed the shutter, switched on the light and looked down at the weary girl.

"Think they'll be able to fly the helicopter out to the X 13 today?" I asked.

"Choppers can fly in practically any weather." She stirred. "Who says anybody's flying out there today?"

"I do." I didn't elaborate. "Now, perhaps, you'll tell me the truth of why you came here to see Jablonsky?"

"Tell you the truth-"

"You said he had a kind face. Maybe he has, maybe he hasn't, but as a reason it's rubbish."

"I see. I'm not holding anything back, honestly I'm not. It's just that I'm so — so worried. I overheard something about him that made me think-"

"Get to the point," I said roughly.

"You know the library's wired, I mean they've got listening devices plugged in-"

"I've heard of them," I said patiently. "I don't need a diagram."

Colour touched the pale cheeks. "I'm sorry. Well, I was next door in the office where the earphones are and I don't know why I just put them on." I grinned: the idea of the biter bit appealed. "Vyland and Royale were in the library. They were talking about Jablonsky."

I wasn't grinning any more.