Lay Her Among The Lilies

Freedlander woman? How long will it be before she can talk?”

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“I don’t know. Some days from the look of her. She can’t even remember who she is.”

“Is she in hospital?”

I shook my head.

“My secretary. Miss Bensinger, is looking after her. I’ve called in a doctor, but there’s

nothing much he can do. He says it’s a matter of time. I’m going to San Francisco to-day to

see her father. He may help her memory.”

“We’ll pay any expenses involved,” Willet said. “Charge it up to us.” He lit another

cigarette. “What’s the next move?”

“We’ll have to wait and see if Maureen turns up. If she doesn’t, I’ll go out to the Dream

Ship and see if she’s on board. There are other angles I’m looking into. At the moment I have

a lot of loose strings that need tidying up.”

There was a tap on the door and the platinum blonde came in and swayed her way to

Willet’s desk.

“Mrs. Pollard is getting impatient,” she murmured. “And this message has just come in. I

thought you should see it at once.”

She gave him a slip of paper. He read what was written on it and his eyebrows shot up.

“All right. Tell Mrs. Pollard I’ll see her in five minutes,” he said. He looked at me. “Miss

Crosby won’t be coming tomorrow. Apparently she is going to Mexico for a trip”

“Who phoned?” I asked, sitting forward.

“He didn’t say who he was,” the platinum blonde told Willet. “He said he was speaking for

Miss Crosby, and would I give you the message right away.”

Willet raised his eyebrows at me. I shook my head.

“All right, Miss Palmetter,” he said. “That’s all.”

I fished up my hat from under my chair and stood up.

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“Looks like a visit to the Dream Ship,” I said.

Willet put the Scotch and the two glasses away.

“You’d better not tell me about that,” he said. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“You’ll be surprised how careful I will be.”

“She may have gone to Mexico,” he went on doubtfully.

I gave him a little grin, but he didn’t grin back.

“Be seeing you,” I said, and went into the outer office.

A fat, over-dressed woman, with pearls the size of pickled onions around her neck, sat

breathing heavily in one of the lounging chairs. She gave me a stony glare as I picked my

way past her to the door.

I looked back at the platinum blonde and tried my grin on her.

She opened her eyes very wide, stared emptily at me and then looked away.

I went out, my grin hanging in space, like an unwanted baby on a doorstep.

II

Jack Kerman was demonstrating to Trixy, my switchboard girl, how Gregory Peck kisses

his leading ladies when I tramped in. They came apart a little slower than a flash of lightning,

but not much. Trixy whipped to her seat and began to pull out plugs and push in plugs with

an unconvincing show of efficiency.

Kerman gave me a sad smirk, shook his head sorrowfully, and followed me into the inner

room.

“Do you have to do that?” I asked, going over to my desk and yanking open a drawer.

“Isn’t she a mite young?”

Kerman sneered.

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“Not by the way she was acting,” he said.

I took out my .38 police special, shoved it in my hip pocket and collected a couple of spare

magazines.

“I have news,” Kerman said, watching me a little pop-eyed. “Want it now?”

“I’ll have it in the car. You and me are going to ‘Frisco.”

“Heeled?”

“Yeah. From now on I’m taking no chances. Got your rod?”

“I can get it.”

While he was getting it I put a call through to Paula.

“How is she?” I asked, when she came on the line.

“About the same. Dr. Mansell’s just been in. He’s given her a mild shot. He says it’ll take a

long time to taper her off.”

“I’m on my way to see her father. If he’ll take her over it’ll let us out. You all right?”

She said she was.

“I’ll look in on my way back.” I said, and hung up.

Kerman and I rode in the elevator to the ground floor, crossed the sidewalk to the Buick.

“We’re going out to the Dream Ship tonight,” I said as I started the engine.

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Unofficially: just like they do on the movies. Maybe we’ll even have to swim out there.”

“Sharks and things, ugh?” Kerman said. “Maybe they’ll try to shoot us when we get

aboard.”

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“They certainly will if they see us.” I edged past a truck and went up Centre Avenue with a

burst of speed that startled two taxi-drivers and a girl driving a Pontiac.

“That’ll be something to look forward to,” Kerman said gloomily. He sunk lower in his

seat. “I simply can’t wait. Maybe I’d better make a will.”

“Have you anything to leave?” I asked, surprised, and braked hard as the red light went up.

“Some dirty post-cards and a stuffed rat,” Kerman said. “I’ll leave those to you.”

As the light changed to green, I said, “What’s the news? Find anything on Mrs. Salzer?”

Kerman lit a cigarette, dropped the match into the back seat of the Pontiac as it tried to nose

past us.

“You bet. Watch your driving, this is going to knock you sideways. I’ve been digging all

morning. Know who she is?”

I swung the car on to Fairview Boulevard.

“Tell me.”

“Macdonald Crosby’s second wife: Maureen’s mother.”