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wagged her head from side to side in stubborn negation. “I don’t believe it.”
    Their argument had evidently been going on for years. Probably it would last as long as they did. I interrupted it: “You saw him today, Mrs. Spanner. Did he seem to have trouble on his mind?”
    “Well, he’s never cheerful. And he seemed to be pretty tense. Any young man is, these days, when he’s getting ready to marry.”
    “Were they serious about getting married?”
    “I’d say very serious. They could hardly wait.” She turned to her husband: “I didn’t mean to tell you this, but I guess it should all come out. Davy thought that maybe you would marry them. I explained you had no legal right, being just a lay preacher.”
    “I wouldn’t marry him to anybody, anyway. I’ve got too much respect for the race of females.”
    “Did they say anything more about their plans, Mrs. Spanner? Where did they plan to get married?”
    “They didn’t say.”
    “And you don’t know where they went after they left here?”
    “No, I don’t.” But her eyes seemed to focus inward, as if she was remembering something.
    “Didn’t they give you some inkling?”
    She hesitated. “You never answered
my
question. Why are you so interested? You don’t really think he beat up Mrs. Smith?”
    “No. But people are always surprising me.”
    She studied my face, leaning her elbows on the table. “You don’t talk like a policeman. Are you one?”
    “I used to be. I’m a private detective now—I’m not trying to pin anything on Davy.”
    “What
are
you trying to do?”
    “Make sure the girl is safe. Her father hired me for that. She’s only seventeen. She should have been in school today, not bucketing around the countryside.”
    No matter how unrewarding their own married lives may be, women seem to love the idea of weddings. Mrs. Spanner’s wedding dream died hard. I watched it die.
    “When I was out here in the kitchen making tea for them,” she said, “I heard them talking in the living room. They were reading the wall mottoes out loud and making fun of them.That wasn’t very nice, but maybe I shouldn’t have been listening to them. Anyway, they made a joke about the Unseen Guest. Davy said that Daddy Warbucks was going to have an unseen guest tonight.”
    Spanner exploded: “That’s blasphemy!”
    “Was anything else said on the subject?”
    “He asked the girl was she sure she could get him in. She said it would be easy, Louis knew her.”
    “Louis?” I said. “Or Lupe?”
    “It could have been Lupe. Yes, I’m pretty sure it was. Do you know who they were talking about?”
    “I’m afraid I do. May I use your telephone?”
    “Long as it isn’t long distance,” Spanner said prudently.
    I gave him a dollar and called the Hacketts’ number in Malibu. A woman’s voice which I didn’t recognize at first answered the phone. I said:
    “Is Stephen Hackett there?”
    “Who is calling, please?”
    “Lew Archer. Is that Mrs. Marburg?”
    “It is.” Her voice was thin and dry. “You were a good prophet, Mr. Archer.”
    “Has something happened to your son?”
    “You’re such a good prophet I wonder if it’s prophecy. Where are you?”
    “In West Los Angeles.”
    “Come out here right away, will you? I’ll tell my husband to open the gate.”
    I left without telling the Spanners where I was going or why. On my way to Malibu I stopped at my apartment to pick up a revolver.

chapter
11
    T HE H ACKETTS’ GATE was standing open. I expected to find police cars in front of the house, but the only car standing under the floodlights was a new blue Mercedes convertible. The young man who went with it came out of the house to meet me.
    “Mr. Archer? I’m Sidney Marburg.”
    He gave me a hard competitive handshake. On second look he wasn’t so very young. His smile was probably porcelain, and the smile-lines radiating from it could just as well have been worry-lines. His narrow black eyes were opaque in the