Ross MACDONALD - Sleeping Beauty

“How much?”

“A hundred thousand dollars, in cash. Since Jack and Marian don’t have the money themselves, they appealed to his mother. It was his mother – Laurel’s grandmother – who phoned me just a few minutes ago. Jack asked her not to tell anyone, but she decided that she’d better consult with me. I’m the active head of the family, you might say, though I’m only a member by marriage.”

There was a streak of vanity in him, I noticed, which went a little strangely with his concern for his niece. His niece by marriage. I said:

“How soon does the money have to be available?”

“They asked for it tonight. But of course that isn’t possible, since they’re demanding cash. They’ve got to give us more time.”

“Are they going to call back?”

“I understand they are, sometime in the course of the night. Jack will try to put them off until tomorrow noon at least.”

“Is he going to call the police?”

“I don’t think so; they warned him not to. You understand I haven’t talked to Jack. I’ve only heard from my mother-in-law. Sylvia’s naturally very upset and not too coherent.”

“Is she willing to provide the money?”

“Of course she is. Sylvia is extremely fond of Laurel. We all are. There’s no problem about the money.”

“There may be other problems. Before the family pays it, make sure that the person or persons paid actually have her. And make sure that she’s alive.”

Somerville looked at me in alarm. “I can’t assume that responsibility myself. I have my hands full with the blowout.”

“Do you think the blowout had anything to do with what’s happened to your niece?”

“I don’t quite understand. You mean some environmentalist maniac is responsible?”

“I wasn’t suggesting that. I’m a bit of an environmentalist myself. So was–” I realized as I caught myself that I half believed Laurel was dead. “Your niece is, too.”

“Then what exactly did you mean?” he said.

“The family’s been getting a lot of publicity this week, some good, some bad. You and her father were on television last night. His picture was in the paper.”

“But not Laurel’s.”

“No, but she’s the vulnerable one. And she’s the one who got taken.”

A woman’s voice said from the hall, “Who got taken?”

She brushed past Smith in the doorway, a well-made woman who looked as if she had dressed in a hurry and hadn’t brushed her blond hair. Captain Somerville got to his feet.

“Laurel was kidnapped tonight.” He gave her a few of the details: the amount of the ransom, the fact that Sylvia was willing to pay it. Then he turned to me. “Mr. Archer here is a private detective. I was about to ask him if he could help us in this matter. He saw Laurel earlier this evening.”

The woman gave me a long look, then her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Somerville, Laurel’s aunt.”

I could see a resemblance to her brother Jack in the handsome bones of her face. But her eyes were different, and they were her best feature. They were blue and candid, with depths behind them hollowed out by human feelings including pain.

“How did you happen to see Laurel?”

I told her, not omitting the sleeping pills.

“Poor Laurel. Can you help her, Mr. Archer? And help us?”

“I can try. I’ll need your brother’s cooperation.”

“I’m sure you’ll have that.”

She was wrong. When Somerville called her brother’s house in Pacific Point, Jack Lennox refused to listen to him. The rest of us in the study could hear Jack shouting over the line. Somerville slammed the receiver down.

“Jack won’t talk to me. He said he’s got to keep his house line open. He doesn’t want any interference.”

“He’s going to get it, though,” Elizabeth Somerville said. “I don’t trust Jack to handle this by himself. He’s terribly upset – I could hear it in his voice – and when my brother gets that way he makes wrong decisions.”

“I can’t go down there now.” Somerville’s voice was querulous. “I’ve had less than two hours’ sleep in the last forty-eight, and tomorrow is going to be a really tough day. We’re going to try and plug the leak tomorrow.”

His wife was watching him with a mixed expression on her handsome face, part pity and part impatience, which made me realize that she was much younger than he was.

“What about your company’s security people?” I said. “Can’t you use them?”

“It’s a possibility,” the Captain said.

But his wife said, “No. It isn’t a good idea.”

I asked her why it wasn’t.

“Because my father’s still the head of the company. The kidnapping would get back to him within a couple of hours, and I think it’s really important that it shouldn’t. At least until it’s over and Laurel’s back safe.”

“Is your father very old?”

“He won’t admit it, but he is. And he’s already had one heart attack, a bad one. Will you drive me down to Pacific Point, Mr. Archer? Jack will listen to me, and I’m sure that he’ll cooperate with you.”

I wasn’t so sure, after what I had seen of Jack, but I said that I’d go with her.

“What about me?” Captain Somerville said.

“Go back to bed,” his wife told him. “Smith will look after you. Won’t you, Smith?”

The black man in the doorway broke his silence. “Certainly will, Mrs. Somerville.”

She looked at him intently. “What was that shot that woke me up?”

“There was a rat in the pool house,” he said with some embarrassment.

“But I told you not to shoot them. Trap them if you have to.”

“All right, Ma’am. I’ll try that.”

“Do it,” she said.

The Captain cleared his throat and produced a heavier voice than he had been using. “I give the orders to Smith. Remember that, Elizabeth.”

She offered no sign that she had heard him. The two men looked past her at each other. Each of them smiled faintly. I got the impression that their relationship was deeper and stronger than the marriage, and that it shut her out.

Before we left, I tried to call Tom Russo. There was no answer at his house, and the drugstore was closed.

Elizabeth Somerville came to the front door in a tourmaline mink which almost matched her blond head. It seemed to me she was overdressed, considering her errand. She may have caught my look, because she went back into the house and put on a plain dark coat.

“My family,” she said in the car, “has a fatal gift for ostentation.”

“You look even better in that coat.”

“Thank you – thank you very much.” Her voice was serious, as if she hadn’t had a compliment for some time.

We rode in unstrained silence down the dark hill. I had liked the woman at first sight, just as I had liked Laurel, and for some of the same reasons: their honesty and passionate directness, their concern. But Laurel was a troubled girl, and the woman beside me seemed to have everything under control.

Except perhaps her marriage, which seemed to be on her mind: “I’m not about to explain or apologize for anything. But you must have gotten a rather odd view of us. This dreadful oil spill has thrown the family into a crisis. And now with what’s happened to Laurel–” She took in a deep breath and let it out.

I turned onto the lighted boulevard, heading for the San Diego Freeway. “I know how you feel.”

“How could you possibly?”

“In a situation like this, people get to know each other in a hurry. That is, if the components are present.”

“The nuclear components?”

I glanced sideways at her face. She was smiling in a slightly feline way. I said: