“Well, he’s in the garden,” Mrs. Parker said dubiously as if her husband
was in China. “I’ll see if I can get him. Hold on a moment.”
Ken waited in an agony of suspense.
“Are you there?” Mrs. Parker asked after a long wait. “I’ll get him to call you back. He’s talking to two men at the moment. I can’t imagine who they are, but I don’t suppose he’ll be long.”
“Thank you,” Ken said, and hung up.
He went over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a shot of whisky and drank it. He lit a cigarette and sat down. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
What would happen to Parker? Would he be able to bluff Donovan? Would he admit knowing Fay Carson? Would he tell Donovan he had given Ken Fay’s telephone number? Would Parker remember that Ken owned a light-gray suit ?
Unable to sit still while his mind was crawling with alarm, Ken got up and went into the garden. He went down the path to the gate and stared up and down the street. He wanted to walk to the corner to see if the police car was still outside Parker’s house, but he was scared the detectives might see him.
After a long moment of staring up and down the street, he returned to the bungalow.
Then from nowhere a sudden paralysing thought came into his mind.