“You know the guy?” Kevin was once more disappointed. “Still, that don’t prove nuttin. He still could’ve been paid to croak you.”
“I hardly think so. Anyway, I’ll telephone him, and if he wants to meet, I won’t go out. He can come here, and we’ll talk in the lobby, and I’ll ask Miss Genevieve to join us.”
“And me,” said Lambert, sounding hurt.
“Of course, I take that for granted,” Daisy soothed him.
“Oughta be safe enough,” Kevin agreed, frowning, “but it still don’t prove there ain’t some other guy after you.”
He looked round at the sound of a door opening, and scurried through the gate and back to his elevator as the manager appeared.
The manager, a dour man, glared after him, then turned to Daisy. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” Daisy waved the messages at him. “Kevin kindly gave me these.”
“Not his job!”
“I dare say, but it was most helpful of him, and made itunnecessary to disturb you.” With a nod of dismissal, she headed for Kevin’s elevator, Lambert close at her heels.
Daisy had a little lamb, she thought with a sigh.
Having promised her persistent lamb not to leave the hotel without him, and to keep him apprised of her whereabouts inside, Daisy went to her room. She was fagged out after a morning of alarums and excursions and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, topped by a large lunch. After a longing look at her bed, though, she went to the telephone and asked for Pascoli’s number.
Not that she had any particular desire to provide him with information for his news magazine, but she appreciated his concern. More important, she wanted to ask him for news of Thorwald, and she hoped he might give her an unbiased opinion as to whether she was truly in danger. Kevin and Lambert and even Miss Genevieve were all too keen for a little excitement for their judgment to be trusted.
Pascoli was not in his office. Daisy left a message for him to ring her back.
She sat on at the desk, chin in hands, wishing Alec was there with her. However modern and independent one might be, it was comforting to have someone nearby who cared deeply what became of one. Even if he ballyragged her for getting involved—as he was bound to, although it wasnother fault—he would support her and defend her.
Home was such a frightfully long way away.
The thought of home brought the thought of her ten-year-old stepdaughter, Belinda. The poor child had been left with her Victorianly unbending grandmother while her father and her new mother jaunted off to America. Daisy had kept her promise to write often, but letters took a weekor longer. Bel must have felt quite deserted for the first few days, though she had expected to have to wait for the first letter. A gap now would make her feel even worse.
Writing a nice, cheerful letter would distract Daisy from her own woes, and Bel wouldn’t mind if she typed it. She rolled a sheet of hotel notepaper into the protesting typewriter.
She was nearing the bottom of a second page when the telephone bell rang. “Mrs. Fletcher?” said the switchboard girl. “I got a Mr. Pascoli on the line. You wanna talk to him or shall I tell him you’re out?”
One of Kevin’s cohort, no doubt. “Put him through, please,” Daisy said.
“Mrs. Fletcher, you O.K.?”
“Yes, thanks. It’s kind of you to ask.”
“We’ve all been concerned. Tell the truth, I’ve got Louella Shurkowski hanging over my shoulder right this minute. You remember Louella?”
“Certainly. Please give her my thanks. I wanted to ask you about Mr. Thorwald. He went to police headquarters?”
“Yeah. I guess he’s still there, but his lawyer was going to meet him there, so we’re not too worried. Not too worried. Say, listen, I’d like to have a word with you about the situation, only not on the phone. Too many ears, get me? Can we meet?”
“If you’d like to come here, to the hotel.”
“Sure. I can’t get away till around five.”
“Right-oh, I’ll meet you in the lobby a bit after five.” With my cohort, Daisy thought. “I hope you’ll bring news of Mr. Thorwald. Cheerio till then.”
“Uh … ? Oh,ciao,” said Pascoli.
Chow? Daisy puzzled over it for a minute before deciding that either Pascoli had misheard her, or it was the American pronunciation of cheerio.
