“I’m afraid not.”
“Is she out of her head? I’ve never been able to overcome my fear of people who weren’t—rational,” Irene confessed. “Couldn’t someone else identify her?”
“She wants you, Irene. She keeps asking for the Golden Girl. She was hurt on the way to see your show, and the idea seems fixed in her mind. She may calm down the minute she sees you,” Judy said.
“I hope so.” Irene paused, glancing back toward Peter’s room. His visitor, portfolio in hand, had just come out. “We can go in now,” she told Judy. “I’d rather not visit that woman upstairs until I’ve seen Peter.”
“Wait a moment, Mr. Blake!” Peter called from his room. “Here are a couple of young ladies I want you to meet. They may have something to add to that list I just gave you.”
He introduced the man to Judy and Irene. They greeted him cordially, and then Judy said, “I have nothing to add, Mr. Blake. If anything else happened I can’t think of it, but Mrs. Meredith may have something for you. She’s on her way to identify that red-haired woman who was hurt in the taxicab.”
“I am going up, but I probably won’t know her from Adam,” Irene said.
“From Eve,” Peter corrected her with a boyish grin. “Is Dale here? Maybe he might have a clue to her identity.”
“If I had somebody to mind the baby in the waiting room, we could both go up,” Irene began.
“I’ll mind her,” Judy said. “Is it all right, Peter? I won’t be long.”