“You know that I made only partial progress when, at your request, I visited San Francisco for a week, and personally conducted a search for your granddaughter.”
“I remember receiving your bills from the St. Clair Hotel,” Mr. Bryant said dryly.
Young Dorn accepted this with a deferential smile. “And unfortunately I had to come back and tell you the disappointing news that by the time I had located Lucy’s present home and work addresses, she had just gone off for a trip. For, I believe, a month or more.”
Mrs. Bryant turned toward Vicki. “At least Mr. Dorn learned that Lucy has gone traveling with respectable friends, another girl and the girl’s mother.”
Mr. Bryant looked up from serving himself seconds from the dish the maid offered. “Well, sir, it’s about a month now since you’ve been out there. You say Lucy will be back in San Francisco soon. How soon can you go out there again, and get on with this job?”
“Very soon, I hope, sir,” Dorn said. “Although it would be a waste of my time and your money to wait around San Francisco until Miss Lucy returns.”
“Don’t see how a girl who you say is a secretary can afford to stay away longer than a month,” Marshall Bryant grumbled. “Dorn, are you certain that this Lucy Rowe is actually our granddaughter?”
“No, I’m not certain. It’s only a reasonable presumption at this point, Mr. Bryant. Let me actually see and talk to the girl. I want to question her—yes, discreetly—about certain particulars of the Bryant family history, which she would be likely to know. I want to see whether she has any of your old letters, or photographs of yourselves or your daughter Eleanor. That brings me to my reason, or one of the reasons, for asking you to let me come today.”
“The name Lucy Rowe isn’t so unusual,” Mr. Bryant interrupted. “Might be more than one girl by that name in a city as large as San Francisco.”
“Exactly my view, too, sir,” said Mr. Dorn. “You have told me many details of the family history and shown me documents, but a few questions occur to me. Also, it would help in proving this Lucy Rowe’s identity if you could let me really study those documents, and study any letters in your daughter Eleanor’s handwriting or any family photographs. If you happen to have any available that I could examine, say, overnight—or for a few hours this afternoon—”