through the narrow parking lot exit I said, ‘After we have talked to Leadbetter, we’d better go back to the office. We’re collecting a lot of stuff, and if we’re not careful we won’t know how to use it.’
‘Have you any idea why Mills was nosing around in Barclay’s place?’ Benny asked.
‘Not a clue, but I’m glad I got there first. I bet he wouldn’t have missed that photograph. And Ed, I think I’ll get you to take a trip to San Francisco and check up on Anita’s background. It looks to me she was more a showgirl than a mannequin to judge from that picture. You might dig up something interesting.’
Benny reached over the back of the seat and picked the picture off the floor. He studied it as I drove the car along Orchid Boulevard.
‘Well, a doll doesn’t get herself photographed like this for the fun of it,’ he said. ‘These theatrical photographers don’t have such a dull life, do they? Imagine focusing a camera on a honey like this.’
I grunted.
‘Yeah, I think a trip to Frisco might be an idea at that,’ he went on. He held the photograph at arm’s length and squinted at it. ‘I wish she’d wave at me.’
‘Put it away,’ I said shortly. ‘The trouble with you—’
‘It’s not a trouble, pally, it’s a pleasure. It’d be a nice idea to gum this picture to the end of Leadbetter’s telescope. I bet it’d get his mind off bird’s eggs.’
We had reached the end of the Boulevard and were now bumping over the beach road that led to the sand dunes. I had an idea where Leadbetter’s place was. If it was the place. I was thinking of I had seen it from time to time when I had gone out with a party of friends for a day’s bathing. It was a lonely, two-storey cabin of redwood, bleached white by the sun. It stood on a little ridge of high ground, boxed in by a half-circle of blue palmettoes, but with wide, uninterrupted views of the coast, seashore and dunes.
The road petered out about a quarter of a mile from the cabin, and after locking the photograph and Dana’s clothes in the car boot, we set off across the hot, loose sand at an easy pace.
‘The moon was like a searchlight last night,’ I said as we tramped along. ‘If this guy was at his telescope there’s no knowing what he did see.’
‘Are you going to offer him any dough?’ Benny asked.
‘I don’t know. I think the thing to do is to be very tough. If we can get him going he might spill his guts without it costing anything.’
‘If he wasn’t holding out for dough I think Jack would have got him going.’
‘We’ll see.’
We cut through a thicket of red-and-black mangroves, picked our way over the sprawling, elephant-tusk-shaped roots and came out on to the vast stretch of open sand dunes.
Fifty yards ahead of us, almost invisible against the row of palmettoes was Leadbetter’s cabin.
On the flat roof, half-concealed by a solid wooden screen, the six-inch lens of the telescope glittered like a ball of fire in the sunshine There was no sign of life nor movement in or around the cabin. It looked as forsaken and as quiet as a cross-eyed girl at a beauty parade.
We sloshed through the sand up to the cracked and weather beaten door. It was full of old, plush-covered furniture, and on the table was the remains of a meal. A greasy looking newspaper served as a tablecloth, and amongst the debris was an interesting-looking earthenware jar that might contain applejack.
Benny rapped on the door which hung open at his touch.
We both peered into the dirty, sordid little room while we waited. Nothing happened; no one came to answer our knock.
‘Probably looking for a quail’s nest or watching some doll take a sunbath,’ Benny said.
‘Maybe he’s up on the roof.’
We stepped back and looked up, but all we could see was the glittering eye of the telescope pointing out to sea. Benny unleashed a whistle that sent a Pock of ibis flapping out of the mangroves, but it didn’t produce Leadbetter.
‘Let’s
‘Have you any idea why Mills was nosing around in Barclay’s place?’ Benny asked.
‘Not a clue, but I’m glad I got there first. I bet he wouldn’t have missed that photograph. And Ed, I think I’ll get you to take a trip to San Francisco and check up on Anita’s background. It looks to me she was more a showgirl than a mannequin to judge from that picture. You might dig up something interesting.’
Benny reached over the back of the seat and picked the picture off the floor. He studied it as I drove the car along Orchid Boulevard.
‘Well, a doll doesn’t get herself photographed like this for the fun of it,’ he said. ‘These theatrical photographers don’t have such a dull life, do they? Imagine focusing a camera on a honey like this.’
I grunted.
‘Yeah, I think a trip to Frisco might be an idea at that,’ he went on. He held the photograph at arm’s length and squinted at it. ‘I wish she’d wave at me.’
‘Put it away,’ I said shortly. ‘The trouble with you—’
‘It’s not a trouble, pally, it’s a pleasure. It’d be a nice idea to gum this picture to the end of Leadbetter’s telescope. I bet it’d get his mind off bird’s eggs.’
We had reached the end of the Boulevard and were now bumping over the beach road that led to the sand dunes. I had an idea where Leadbetter’s place was. If it was the place. I was thinking of I had seen it from time to time when I had gone out with a party of friends for a day’s bathing. It was a lonely, two-storey cabin of redwood, bleached white by the sun. It stood on a little ridge of high ground, boxed in by a half-circle of blue palmettoes, but with wide, uninterrupted views of the coast, seashore and dunes.
The road petered out about a quarter of a mile from the cabin, and after locking the photograph and Dana’s clothes in the car boot, we set off across the hot, loose sand at an easy pace.
‘The moon was like a searchlight last night,’ I said as we tramped along. ‘If this guy was at his telescope there’s no knowing what he did see.’
‘Are you going to offer him any dough?’ Benny asked.
‘I don’t know. I think the thing to do is to be very tough. If we can get him going he might spill his guts without it costing anything.’
‘If he wasn’t holding out for dough I think Jack would have got him going.’
‘We’ll see.’
We cut through a thicket of red-and-black mangroves, picked our way over the sprawling, elephant-tusk-shaped roots and came out on to the vast stretch of open sand dunes.
Fifty yards ahead of us, almost invisible against the row of palmettoes was Leadbetter’s cabin.
On the flat roof, half-concealed by a solid wooden screen, the six-inch lens of the telescope glittered like a ball of fire in the sunshine There was no sign of life nor movement in or around the cabin. It looked as forsaken and as quiet as a cross-eyed girl at a beauty parade.
We sloshed through the sand up to the cracked and weather beaten door. It was full of old, plush-covered furniture, and on the table was the remains of a meal. A greasy looking newspaper served as a tablecloth, and amongst the debris was an interesting-looking earthenware jar that might contain applejack.
Benny rapped on the door which hung open at his touch.
We both peered into the dirty, sordid little room while we waited. Nothing happened; no one came to answer our knock.
‘Probably looking for a quail’s nest or watching some doll take a sunbath,’ Benny said.
‘Maybe he’s up on the roof.’
We stepped back and looked up, but all we could see was the glittering eye of the telescope pointing out to sea. Benny unleashed a whistle that sent a Pock of ibis flapping out of the mangroves, but it didn’t produce Leadbetter.
‘Let’s
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