“I believed him at the time. Recently I’ve started to doubt him. Over in Honolulu someone from Los Angeles mentioned in my hearing that the Products Refining Company had employed auditors to go over its books. I’m worried... I feel certain... And then Belle...”
“All right,” Mason said gently, “tell me about Belle.”
“She took to this life like a duck takes to water. She’s naturally happy, vivacious, impulsive, and a good mixer. It gave her a great thrill to be thrown in contact with wealthy tourists, the people she calls ritzy. A few days ago she met Roy Hungerford at the Royal Hawaiian. He’s, the son of Peter Coleman Hungerford, the oil millionaire. It seems that he’s been dancing constant attendance on a Miss Dail, but since he’s met Belle he’s been putting in more and more time with her.”
“What does Miss Dail have to say to that?” Mason asked.
“She doesn’t say anything,” Mrs. Newberry said. “She’s far too clever for that. She’s apparently taken quite an interest in Belle — you know, some women do that. They become very friendly with their rivals.”
“And you think she considers your daughter a rival?” Mason asked.
“Yes, I think she does, Mr. Mason.”
“And,” Mason went on, “I suppose Miss Dail has been asking your daughter something about her background, where she has lived, and something about her father’s occupation?”
Mrs. Newberry said, “Yes. So far, Belle’s been clever enough to laugh it off. She says she’s only a Cinderella, playing at the party until midnight, and then she’ll disappear.”
“That might get by with young Hungerford,” Mason said, “but I presume it’s merely made Miss Dail more curious.”