“But what the hell. There’s no rush about making her stop straightening up with a jerk. That was just—”
“We don’t even know there is a daughter. All we have is what Mr. Perrit told us. I want to see her. At the very least, I want you to see her.”
“You going to introduce me to her?”
“Pfui. She is twenty-one years old. Flummox her.”
That wasn’t as much of a chore as some he had been known to give me, since Perrit had given me what he thought would be an in. I referred to the list of numbers, dialed one, and after the third buzz there was a voice in my ear.
“Hello, hello, hello?”
It didn’t sound at all like a Phi Beta Kappa, but I reserved judgment and proceeded.
“May I speak to Miss Beulah Page?”
“Sure. Talking. Are you a preacher?”
“No, Miss Page, I’m not. My name is Stevens, Harold Stevens, from Dayton, Ohio. May I have a minute?”