Free Sleeping Beauty by Ross MacDonald Page A

It’s the way Jack wants it.”
    “What about you?”
    “I’m willing to do whatever Jack says. He’s the strong one.”
    “I think you’re showing a lot of strength, Marian.”
    Marian shook her head and drew away, ending their moment of affection.
    “I’m only doing what I have to do,” she said. “Just make sure that Sylvia gets hold of the money by noon. That’s all we’re asking of you.”
    “Don’t worry, dear.”
    Marian Lennox turned to me before she went inside. Her face was like a clay mask in the moonlight:
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Archer. After coming all this way, you should have been given a better reception.”
    “That’s all right.”
    “You will let us know if you find out anything?”
    I said I would. She moved back toward the house as if she dreaded both what was ahead of her and what was behind her. She let herself in at the front door.
    “Poor Marian,” Elizabeth said. “Poor both of them. I wish I could help them.”
    “Has your brother ever had a heart attack?”
    “No, but my father almost died of one a few years ago.” She added after a thinking pause, “That was the real beginning of the trouble in the family. Father suddenly realized that he was mortal, and he decided to make the most of the life he had left. So when he was physically able he took up with Connie Hapgood.
    “Mother’s a proud woman. Also she has some money of her own. She moved out of the old house in El Rancho and bought a house on the beach here.”
    “Is that where we’re going now?”
    “Yes. It’s only a mile or so from Jack’s house.” She gestured toward the south. “Which was the big attraction for Sylvia, I suppose. Jack was always her favorite.” Her voice was cold without being bitter. “She should have stayed and fought it out with Connie. She could have held on to Dad if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t care. She left him to that woman. And now she’s letting him dissolve the marriage without even putting up a fight.”
    “Why does it matter so much?”
    “Dad is in his seventies. He’s not going to live forever. And if Connie inherits the company, or even a major part of it, that will be the end of the Lennox family. Money is the glue that holds us all together—money and oil.”
    I turned south along a dark tree-lined road which paralleled the shore. A barn owl flew across the space of sky between the trees, moving as silently as a fish under water.
    The woman was almost as quiet for a while. Finally she said in an unwilling voice, “Dad loves Laurel, you know. She’s his only grandchild. And if Jack is covering up for her in some way, you can understand why. Laurel is his ace in the hole.”
    “Are you telling me that you think Laurel may not have been kidnapped after all?”
    “I guess I am. At least I’m admitting the possibility.”
    “What made you change your mind about it?”
    “I don’t really know.” She considered the question in silence.
    “I have a feeling there’s something funny going on. There’s a queer atmosphere in Jack and Marian’s house tonight—what you might call an atmosphere of complicity.”
    “You think they know that Laurel’s trying to take them?”
    “I think they know something like that, or at least Jack does. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s covered up for Laurel.”
    “Tell me about the other times.”
    “I don’t think I’d better,” she said. “You wouldn’t see them in context, and I don’t want to turn you against her. She may need your help. We all may.”
    “Good. What was the context?”
    She thought about the question, and answered in general terms: “When there’s trouble in a family, it tends to show up in the weakest member. And the other members of the family know that. They make allowances for the one in trouble, try to protect her and so on, because they know they’re implicated themselves. Do you follow me?”
    “I learned it long ago in the course of my work. Where did you learn it,