‘Mr. Dedrick doesn’t appear to be here,’ I said, and came down the steps towards her.
I heard her catch her breath sharply, and she made a half turn as if she was going to run away, but she controlled the impulse and faced me.
‘Who—who are you?’
‘My name’s Vic Malloy. Mr. Dedrick ‘phoned me about a quarter of an hour ago. He asked me to come out here.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded both surprised and startled. ‘And you say he isn’t here?’
‘He doesn’t seem to be. There’s only that light you can see showing. He isn’t in there. The rest of the house is in darkness.’
By now I was close enough to get a vague idea what she looked like. I could see she was dark and youngish and in evening dress. I had an idea she was pretty.
‘But he must be here,’ she said sharply.
‘May I ask who you are?’
For a fraction of a second she hesitated, then she said, ‘I’m Mary Jerome; Mrs. Dedrick’s secretary.’