Goldengirl

The Professor was obviously still in the lecture theater. There were sure to be questions afterward. He was welcome to stay there for the next few moments. The academic staff in all its robes wouldn’t top the figure in this blue velvet pantsuit. She turned, a brunette with greenish-blue eyes, hair shaped to her head, with a thick fringe. She was near Dryden’s age. The smile she gave him mingled mockery and invitation. ‘Mr. Martindale from England, I understand.’

He blinked in surprise. ‘You wouldn’t be—’

‘Stephanie Walsh?’ She put a cool hand into his. ‘I confess that I am. Won’t you sit down?’

He sank into one of the steel chairs. ‘Excuse my confusion. They didn’t tell me downstairs. I presumed Professor Walsh was—’

‘A man?’ She took a chair opposite him. ‘You’re not the first. Perhaps we could both be excused some confusion, Mr. Martindale. You are Douglas Martindale of James and Martindale? The publisher of Anthropometric Radiography and its Applications?’

‘Is there any problem about that?’ he cautiously inquired.

‘Just that I had it on very good authority — the London Times, I think — that you were dead.’ She held the smile impeccably. ‘Is it more disturbing, I wonder, to discover that a professor is a female, or that a publisher has risen from the dead? No, that’s a presumption on my part. You haven’t actually said you are Douglas Martindale.’

It was a silk-glove job, but it was still a very firm put-down. Gulling Stephanie Walsh wasn’t going to be easy. He studied her eyes as they waited evenly for his reaction. He decided he could trust them.

‘Maybe your secretary didn’t catch my name right. It’s Dryden. Jack Dryden.’

She gave a quick laugh. ‘I’m prepared to believe that’s not the name she caught, Mr. Dryden. Do you smoke?’

She picked up a box of cocktail Sobranies from the table. He took a red one. A gold Ronson Varatronic followed.

‘Thanks. Professor, I’m curious to know why you agreed to meet me when you knew Douglas Martindale was dead.’

She held the lighter flame steady as she thought. ‘You’re surprised you beat the security? Getting to see a professor shouldn’t really be so difficult, but we do get bothered incessantly by sales reps. They have their job to do, I know, but you can get a little weary of seeing overhead projectors demonstrated, so we put aside a few days in July and invite them all to bring their books and hardware then. It ought to simplify matters, but there are still a few implacable gentlemen.’ She shrugged. ‘So they have to get past the porter first. When I heard the name you gave, I was a little amused, a little intrigued. It isn’t customary for these men to resort to assumed identities. I decided to take my fate in my hands and have a look at you. You don’t have a medical encyclopedia up your sleeve?’

‘Not a single volume,’ said Dryden. ‘I won’t deny that I am in merchandising, but I’m not here to sell you anything.’

She smiled. ‘Try a little harder, Mr. Dryden. They all say that.’

He nodded, grinning. ‘This is more in the nature of an inquiry. God, there’s another cliché of the trade.’ He started again. ‘My job, Professor, involves managing the contractual arrangements for certain celebrities in sports and show business whose names are used in advertising. I have a client who, happily for both of us, has had a good run of success over the last two years. A fine sportsman, but a little innocent of the world. Easily taken in, I mean. Last week, he told me about a business venture he’s investing prettily heavily in, even by his standards. It’s all terribly sub rosa. In fact, at first I was worried my client was being conned, but now I’m satisfied it’s on the level. There are others chipping in, some hard-bitten characters among them. Now they’re asking me to join them in a promotional capacity. Before I do, I want to know some more about the scheme and the man who dreamed it up. His name is William Serafin.’

‘I see.’ She thought a moment, and felt in the box for a cigarette. Dryden supplied a light. ‘And you suppose I can fill you in on Bill Serafin? Mr. Dryden, before we go any further, how would you have broached this subject as Douglas Martindale?’

‘I would have said we were considering a book Dr. Serafin had submitted for publication. As your English publisher visiting the States, I thought it opportune to visit you and at the same time get some background on your predecessor.’

She weighed it. ‘Yes, I’ll buy that. Did you have a title for this mythical work?’

‘Would The Influence of Heredity on Human Growth get by?’

‘His Vienna project. It figures.’ She was assessing him carefully before volunteering anything. Her eyes were worth watching. There was pale-green shadow on the lids, a brown liner above the lashes. ‘You seem to have the essential facts already. How do you suppose I can help?’