Читать книгу THE CHEAP RUBY RING - Max Idol - Страница 7

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Mike was a rather tall lanky lad. I estimated his age around eighteen, maybe nineteen. He was about six and a half feet tall, nearly half a foot taller than I. He had a smooth and - though it was still February - rather tanned skin. His eyelashes were a bit too long and too full for a man. Together with his full lips and his dark brown eyes his face had that dreamy look which women are so fond of.

"Hi, your mother agreed, when I asked her if I could talk to you."

"I'm sure my mother didn't agree. To agree is not part of her vocabulary."

"Well, I guess, you are right. She slammed the door in my face. I thought this could be interpreted as an approval."

"It could, but you never know."

He had a pleasant and friendly voice. However, it sounded a bit tense.

"Well, my name is Lawdon. I wanted to talk to Mrs. Jackson. I was told she was cleaning up her cabin near Lake Calmora. So I went there to see her. But nobody was there, only a note with your name and address. This gave me the idea that you might be a friend of hers. Thus I decided to come here and ask you if you knew where she may be."

"As a matter of fact, I'm not one of Olivia's friends. But her daughter and me are rather good friends."

"Rather good or rather more than rather good?"

"Rather more."

"Well, I guess, you know that cabin. I wonder if you happen to have been there recently."

Even under his tanned skin you could see him blushing down to the roots of his hair. He decided to opt for a preemptive strategy.

"I went there, not today, but yesterday."

"Did you go inside?"

He dithered. He chewed my question over and over again. Finally he had made up his mind.

"Yeah, I did."

For such a lot of brainwork these three words were a heart-stopping result. Maybe he was willing to pad his story with some more details if I kept being a nice guy.

"Did you have a key?

"There's a key underneath a stone to the left of the door. Actually, everybody would find it if he wanted to."

Well, everybody but one.

"And why did you go there?"

The brainwork started again. Not quite as long as before, however, the result was a bit more luxurious.

"I guess you'll find it out sooner or later. So here's my part of the story. Emma had picked a quarrel with me. You see, actually she's a wonderful girl. I am really fond of her. But when there's the slightest critical remark concerning her mother, she would crack up. You see, I suspected that her mother had an affair with another guy. I simply said that in my opinion this affair wasn't fair as far as her father was concerned. Emma began to yell at me. In the end we yelled at each other. She completely flew off the handle. She called me names and told me not to poke my nose in things that were none of my business. She ran out and said this was the end of our relationship."

"So, why didn't you run after her?"

"I wanted to wait until she calmed down again.

As a rule, she calls me the next day and apologizes."

"And did she apologize?"

"No, she didn't. This quarrel took place three days ago. I tried to call her, but there was no answer. At first I didn't worry about her because I was sure she would get in touch with me soon. I thought she might be up in the hills in their cabin. Therefore, I went there yesterday. Neither she nor her mother was there. In the meantime I'm deeply concerned."

"You have got no idea where they might have gone?"

"I'm afraid, I haven't."

I felt I had reached a deadlock. Though he had given some quite interesting pieces of information, it actually didn't take forward my investigation.

I gave him my card, one that didn't show my occupation. I asked him to get in touch with me if he remembered anything else. We then had some small talk, among other things about the warm welcome I'd received by his mother.

We agreed that it was certainly better to call it a day while we were still friends.

So I went over to my car and drove back to San Diego. Tomorrow morning I'd ring up Mrs. Abigail Coleman and ask her how to carry on.

What a successful day was coming to an end. I got to know Mrs. Coleman. I tried to find her husband and his secretary, but failed. I met ground squirrels, a dog and his owner. I was knocked down and I still didn't know by whom, though I had my preference. I met a friendly woman who slammed the door into my face and I had an interesting chat with the friendly woman's son.

My client should be really happy with me. Her money was obviously well invested.

Well, I guess, I had to do what I mostly did when I had to deal with such a situation. I had to play it by ear, which every now and then worked, at least more or less.

I arrived home at about 10 p.m. My brass doorplate was still there.

I felt it had been a hard day and I went to sleep.