Find a Victim by Ross MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

old Chevvy? I’m not using it.”
    I said: “I’ll be glad to drop you off.”
    “Oh no, you’re very kind, but I couldn’t.”
    “Sure you could, Hilda. Mr. Archer don’t mind. He was just leaving anyway.”
    She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Meyer regarded me with satisfaction. At least he was getting something for his money.
    “Good night, Father.”
    “Good night, Hildie. Thanks for coming to see me.”
    He stayed in his corner like a tired old bull in his
querenzia
.

 
    CHAPTER 7 :
I backed out past the stalled, rusting
cavalcade in the vacant lot and turned east toward the center of the city. Hilda let out a sigh that sounded as if she had been holding it in for some time.
    “It’s really too bad. I come to visit him with the best intentions, but we always manage to quarrel. Tonight it was Anne. There always seems to be something.”
    “He’s fairly difficult, isn’t he?”
    “Yes, especially with us. Anne can’t get along with him at all. I don’t blame her, either. She has good reason—” She caught herself up short and changed the subject: “We live on the far side of town, Mr. Archer, in the foothills. I’m afraid it’s a long drive.”
    “I don’t mind. I wanted to talk to you anyway, in private.”
    “About my sister?”
    “Yes. Has she gone away like this before, for a week at a time?”
    “Once or twice she has. But not without telling me.”
    “You two are pretty close, aren’t you?”
    “We always have been. We’re not like some sisters I know, fighting all the time. Even if she is better-looking than I am—”
    “I wouldn’t say that.”
    “You don’t have to be gallant. I know. Anne’s a beauty, and I’m not. But it never seemed to matter much. She’s so much younger, really, I never needed to compete with her. I was more like an aunt than a sister when she was growing up. Mother died when she was born, you see. She was my responsibility.”
    “Was she hard to handle?”
    “Of course not. Don’t listen to Father. He’s always been prejudiced, willing to believe anything against her. That stinking gossip he told you about Anne and Mr. Kerrigan— there’s nothing in it at all.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Perfectly sure. I’d know if it was true. It isn’t true,” she said vehemently. “Anne worked for Mr. Kerrigan, and that’s all.”
    I pulled up behind a line of cars that was waiting for the light to change at the main street intersection. Single men and couples, boys in threes and fours, roved on the lighted pavements, their faces bored and hungry for excitement. No unescorted women were to be seen.
    “Keep going on this street,” she said. “I’ll tell you where to turn.”
    The light winked green, and we rolled forward across the pitted asphalt.
    “Where does your sister live when she’s at home?”
    “She has her own apartment, in Bougainvillea Court, number three. It’s not far from here, on Los Bagnos Street.”
    “I may go over there later. I don’t suppose you have a key?”
    “No, I don’t. Why do you want a key?”
    “I’d like to have a look at her possessions. They might give some indication of where she’s gone, and why.”
    “I see. No doubt the superintendent can let you in.”
    “Do I have your permission?”
    “Certainly.” She was silent for a while, as we passed through sparsely lighted streets toward the edge of the city. “Where do you think Anne has gone, Mr. Archer?”
    “I was going to ask you. I have no idea, unless you’re mistaken about her and Kerrigan.”
    “I couldn’t be mistaken,” she said bluntly. “Why keep harping on that?”
    “When a woman disappears, you look for the men in her life. What about the men in her life?”
    “Anne goes out with dozens of men. I don’t keep track of them.” Her voice was sharp, and I wondered if there was some jealousy after all.
    “Could she have eloped with one of them?”
    “I doubt it. Anne’s quite—distrustful of men. That’s natural enough, if