Shadow of Guilt by Patrick Quentin Page B

me, put on a flawless performance of the contrite young girl who had seen the error of her ways. In half an hour, I’d “talked” to her and Connie had “talked” to her and that was that.
    “Well,” said Connie when it was all over, “I must say it’s a relief that you’re being so sensible, dear. Now let’s have a drink and celebrate.”
    We had a drink. Then we had supper prepared by Connie. It was exactly as if Don Saxby had never existed in our lives at all. After supper we all sat around in the living room, being so goddamn normal that I could have yelled.
    It was almost nine o’clock when the phone in the hall rang. Connie got up to answer it, but I, with a jittery premonition that it was Eve, jumped up too and managed to get to the hall ahead of her.
    I shut the door and picked up the phone.
    “Darling,” said Vivien Ryson. “Darling George—it’s nine, you know.”
    “Nine?” I said stupidly.
    Vivien’s laugh tinkled. “Really, darling, I suppose that did sound rather enigmatic, didn’t it? What I mean is—tell Chuck he’d better rush right over here if he’s going to pick up his brief case and make his plane. I do think he’s been a little naughty to spend the entire day with you. He knows how much it means to Mal to have a teeny bit of father-son goings on.” The laugh did its tinkle again. “But don’t bawl the poor boy out. I know what it is. Love, love, love.”
    I’d never given Chuck the slightest thought since I’d left him sitting on the bottom step of our stairs that morning with his face hidden in his hands: Chuck, to whom Connie had, “on principle,” told everything; Chuck, who had been so frighteningly broken by the news; Chuck, who hadn’t been with us since nine-thirty in the morning and who apparently hadn’t been at the Rysons’ either.
    I said, “But Vivien, he’s not here. He hasn’t been here since morning.”
    “But that’s crazy, darling. He only came back from Chicago to be with Ala.”
    “I know, but—”
    “Then where has he been?”
    “I don’t know. Wasn’t he home at all?”
    “Not for a moment. And he got up at the crack of dawn. George darling, is something wrong between him and Ala?”
    “There may be. I wouldn’t know.”
    “Last night he seemed terribly strange. Even Mal noticed it. And then, getting up so early and not being with you… But George, his plane leaves at eleven and there’s his brief case with all his papers and things.”
    “He must have decided he can leave them behind.”
    “How most extraordinary. Really, George, it is a bit odd. He was so strange last night, most peculiar. Right after dinner he disappeared for ages. Finally I went to look for him and he was in Mal’s and my bedroom, sitting on my bed. It seemed so odd. I mean, why our bedroom? Why not his own? I was worried. I really was. Well, I suppose, it’s just some lover’s tiff. They happen all the time, don’t they? It’s silly to get hysterical. He’s bound to call later. Good-bye, darling.”
    “Good-bye, Vivien.”
    “I won’t tell Mal. You know how he is. Love to Connie.”
    “Yes.”
    As I put down the receiver, my thoughts jittered around Chuck. I forced them into control. It was stupid to worry, of course it was. He wouldn’t have gone home anyway. He’d been broken up, miserable. He wouldn’t have wanted to face his family. He’d gone off somewhere by himself to a bar or to a movie or… I felt my anxiety fading and, as it did so, I looked at the phone and the simplest of devices came to me. Why hadn’t I thought of it hours ago? I picked up the receiver again and dialed Eve’s number. She answered right away.
    “Call me back,” I said.
    I dropped the receiver and almost immediately her call came through. I knew that although they could hear the phone ring in the living room, they couldn’t hear what I said, but I went through the motions.
    “Yes?” I said. “Yes? Okay. Sure. I’ll be right over. In fifteen minutes.”
    I