The bell sounded shrill and urgent and startled me, probably because, up to now, the cabin had been as still and as silent as a poor relation at a wedding.
I lifted the receiver.
‘Hello?’
Above the faint humming on the line I could hear a dance band playing a waltz. The high notes of the muted trumpet suggested Glyn Boos’s Serenaders; that would make the call from the Country Club.
‘Mr. Malloy?’ A woman’s voice: pitched low with a little drawl in it. A voice calculated to stimulate male interest. At any rate it stimulated mine.
‘Speaking.’
‘My name is Serena Dedrick. I’m at the Country Club just now. Can you come over? I can offer you a job if you want it.’
I wondered why she couldn’t have waited until the morning, but then the Dedricks seemed to specialize in out-of-office hours. It didn’t worry me. I wanted her custom.
‘Certainly, Mrs. Dedrick. I’ll be right over. Do I ask at the desk for you?’
‘I’ll be in my car in the parking lot. It’s a black Cad. Will you be long?’