Bel sipped his coffee, frowning. "Heard anything from your friends the Lontaines this morning?"
"Not yet. Fanny will call up, of course, or come round to see me as soon as she hears."
"Risky to wait. Better get hold of her at once, let her hear about this business first of all from you, and tell her she's got to protect you if she has to lie like Sapphira."
"But surely we can count on Fanny's discretion!"
"Can we?" Bel's grin was skeptical. "I'm not so sure. Nolan knew last night you'd been due at Summerlad's for dinner. Told Zinn he had his information from Mrs. Lontaine."
"Barry Nolan! I don't understand...."
"Only know what Nolan told Zinn. Stopped in at the studio just now, saw Zinn for a few minutes.... By the way"—Bel's manner was studiously casual—"it may interest you to know, the latest reports say Summerlad's holding his own."
"I am glad," Lucinda said simply. And Bel's eyes wavered under her level regard, lightly charged as it was with contempt. "You were telling me about Nolan...."
"Zinn says he telephoned all over Los Angeles last night trying to locate Nolan—because he and Summerlad had always been so close—but had no luck till about three this morning, when Nolan got home and found Zinn's message waiting for him. Then he hurried over to the bungalow—with at least three sheets in the wind, according to Zinn—and the first question he asked was where you'd been when the shooting took place. Zinn swore you hadn't been there, and the Jap backed him up nobly.... But there you are, if you're asking for proof that your friend Fanny tells everything she knows."
Lucinda coloured resentfully. "I am sure," she insisted, "Fanny never dreamed of hurting me when she told Mr. Nolan—whatever it was she did tell him. But it's easy enough to find out...."