Randy put the big car smoothly into motion, turned east and headed for the Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive.
“We’re going to the International Airways Building,” Peggy said. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yes,” Randy answered. “And now that you’re settled down and have your breath back, do you mind telling me what’s happening?”
“It’s Paula,” Peggy said. “Paula’s mother is Stacy Blair, the movie star, and she’s going to Europe to hunt for Paula because she doesn’t know she’s right here in New York and we have to stop them before the plane leaves, and—”
“Wait a minute,” Randy interrupted. “Who thinks who’s in Europe and whom do we have to stop? You mean that Paula’s going to Europe to find her mother, or Paula’s mother is going to Europe to find Paula?”
“That’s right,” Peggy said. “I mean, the last thing you said is right. Paula’s mother and father are on their way to Idlewild now to catch a plane for Europe. They think Paula’s there. It’s simple.”
“It’s the most complicated piece of simplicity I’ve ever heard,” Randy commented. “Now why don’t you start from the beginning and tell it slowly and clearly? It’s not going to affect the time it takes to get to Idlewild, so you might as well relax.”
Of course it wasn’t simple, as Peggy realized once she tried to explain the whole affair. It was necessary to tell Randy how she found out about Paula, and what Paula had been trying to accomplish, and how she had found out that Paula’s parents were on their way. By the time she had finished telling it, they had left Manhattan behind them, and were speeding along the express highways of Long Island.
Every so often, coming to the top of one of the low rolling hills that make up the gigantic sandbar that is Long Island, Peggy could see the lights and towers of Manhattan, seeming never to drop much farther behind. She had, for a moment, the nightmare sensation of running, running, running with every possible effort, and getting nowhere at all.
Fortunately, the highways were nearly deserted at this late hour, and Randy was able to make good time. The powerful engine under the long hood of the big English car purred with a low, well-tuned sound as they raced through the night, past the darkened windows of houses and garden apartments. The speedometer needle quivered at the sixty mark, and Peggy kept glancing nervously behind her, expecting at any moment to see the flashing red light and hear the warning siren of a pursuing police patrol car, but none came.