Phil could almost feel a stir among the patrons of the place, whether they lived here or merely intended to dine in the swanky cafe that flanked the lobby of the Chateau Parkview. Locating that stir or the invisible eyes it represented was a problem in itself, but Phil felt sure that something would happen to solve it.
Something did happen.
A bellboy emerged suddenly from behind a pillar, included Arlene with a quizzical look and called:
“Paging Miss Forster - paging Miss Forster -”
The blonde interrupted the process and announced herself as Miss Forster. The bell-hop gestured to a deep alcove around past a newsstand.
“Phone call for you,” he told Arlene. “You’ll find it in the phone booth where the receiver is off the hook.”
Phil tipped the bellboy a quarter and followed Arlene. To be polite, he paused at the newsstand while the blonde entered the booth. As Arlene closed the door, Phil gave her a final glance.
She was very charming. Her profile was shapely and the flowing fluff of her hair showed beautifully against the background of the booth, though it lost its blonde effect in the semi-darkness.
What interrupted Phil’s stare was the query of the man behind the newsstand, asking if he wanted anything. Phil decided to buy some cigarettes, so he named his brand and while the man was finding them, Phil glanced at the headlines of some newspapers lying on the stand.
Funny headlines, these, all about a banshee in Central Park. There wasn’t any picture of the banshee, but she was described as something very sprightly and beautiful. Apparently the banshee liked lilacs, for there was a picture of a lilac tree with inserts showing a broken bough and loose sprig that fitted it.