  During rehearsal that night, and afterward, Peggy managed to have as little contact with Paula as possible. She felt that they were both talked out on the subject by now, and any further conversation would only serve to confuse the issue, rather than clarify it. Shortly after midnight, when Mal dismissed the cast, Peggy, Amy, and Greta made a quick and unobtrusive exit and hurried back to the Gramercy Arms to discuss the matter with May Berriman. May had been expecting a meeting this evening, and was waiting for the girls in the huge and friendly kitchen downstairs. Hot chocolate perfumed the air, and a tray of warm, freshly made cookies was set out on the long sawbuck table. When the girls were seated, and the chocolate had been poured, Peggy repeated what Paula had told her. She finished by telling of Paula’s request that nobody contact her parents until after opening night. “And did you agree?” May Berriman asked. “No,” Peggy said uneasily. “I couldn’t. But I didn’t say that I would call them either. I told her that I would have to think it over.” “What have you decided?” May asked, in a voice like a conscience. “... I haven’t really come to a decision yet, May,” Peggy said. “I’ve been thinking about it all evening.” “Amy? Greta? What do you think?” May Berriman pursued. The girls shook their heads and looked at each other. “It seems to me,” the old actress said with slow dignity, “that Peggy made her decision some days ago, even before the whole story was known.” “What do you mean?” Peggy asked. “I mean that I remember you saying that people were more important than plays. And that, I presume, goes for careers, too. People, and people’s feelings, are the most important thing in the world. I think that you’ve already decided to call Paula’s parents.” “I haven’t decided yet,” Peggy answered. “Even though I agree that people and their feelings are the most important thing. You see, I have to consider Paula’s feelings, too, don’t I?” “No,” May Berriman said firmly. “She’s been considering her own feelings long enough, and all of you have done nothing but help her to continue her foolishness. Maybe it’s because of my age, but I can’t consider her feelings anywhere near as important as the feelings of her parents. They haven’t heard from her for a month. The checks they sent haven’t been cashed. They probably are frightened to death, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had the police forces in half the countries of Europe searching for Paula. I think it’s time somebody put a stop to it.” The girls considered what May had said, and silently sipped their chocolate. Nobody cared to say anything, Amy and Greta each having decided individually that the final decision must come from Peggy. It was a long time until the silence was broken. “All right, May,” Peggy said. “I can’t argue with you, because I know you’re right. There’s nothing to do but call them, and now’s as good a time as any.” She glanced at the tall grandfather clock in the corner. “It’s not quite ten o’clock in California now,” she said. “I’ll go upstairs and call.” “But what if it’s an unlisted phone number?” Amy asked. “Oh-oh,” said Peggy. “You’re right, of course, Amy. A famous star like Stacy Blair would never have a listed number. She’d be bothered to death.” She sighed impatiently. “Well, I’ll just have to send her a wire.” “Wait a minute, Peggy,” May Berriman said suddenly. “I know someone who’s a close friend of the Andrews, and she’s right here in New York. Let me call her. She’s bound to know their number.” May went up the stairs with surprising agility while the three girls waited in excited silence. She soon returned waving a slip of paper and announced dramatically, “I’ve got it!” Peggy stood up and crossed the room. May handed her the slip on which the number was written. At the foot of the stairs, Peggy paused and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait up for me, will you?” “You couldn’t get us to bed now at gunpoint!” Greta said. Peggy went upstairs and put through the call. The Andrews telephone was answered by a woman. “Andrews residence,” she said crisply. “I’d like to speak to Mrs. Andrews,” Peggy said. “Who is calling, please?” “My name is Peggy Lane. She doesn’t know me, but I’m a friend of her daughter’s, and I have some information about her that I know Mrs. Andrews would want to hear.” “About Miss Paula? Tell me! Is she all right? Where—?” “Yes, yes, she’s all right,” Peggy said, somewhat impatiently. “Now, please, won’t you call Mrs. Andrews to the phone?” “I’m sorry, Miss Lane,” the voice at the other end said, “but Mr. and Mrs. Andrews aren’t here.” “When do you expect them back?” Peggy asked. “I don’t know. They’re in New York now, on their way to Europe, if they haven’t left already. I believe they plan to catch a plane tonight.” “Tonight! But ... what airline? How can I reach them if they haven’t left yet?” “You might try the hotel in New York,” the maid said. “They had to stop over for plane connections, but I don’t know for how long. They always stay at the Plaza, and you might get them there.” “Thank you,” Peggy said hurriedly. “I’ll call them right—” “But wait!” the maid interrupted. “Tell me about Miss Paula! Where is she? Has she had an accident? What—?” “She’s right here in New York!” Peggy cried. “And I can’t talk more now! I have to stop her parents before they fly off to Europe! Thank you—good-by!” Peggy hurriedly hung up before the anxious woman could continue her questioning. Swiftly thumbing through the phone book, she picked out the number of the Plaza and dialed. “I’m sorry,” a smooth clerkish voice answered, “but Mr. and Mrs. Andrews have already checked out.” “When?” Peggy asked. “What time?” “About a half hour ago,” the voice said calmly. “I believe they left for the airport.” “I know,” Peggy said excitedly. “But which airline? Do you know, or is there any way you could find out?” “One moment, please,” the voice replied. “Perhaps the bell captain knows.” There was a clatter as the phone was placed on a marble surface, and Peggy waited nervously. In the background, she heard the dim noises of the hotel lobby, the thin sound of a dance tune, occasional small voices. For what seemed an endless stretch of time, she waited. At last, when it seemed that her nerves could stand not one moment more, she heard the phone being picked up. “The bell captain says they were going to International Airways Terminal, miss,” the helpful voice said. “I’m sorry it took so much time, but I checked the doorman as well, to see if he overheard the taxi directions. Fortunately he did.” “Thank you,” Peggy said fervently. “Thank you very much!” She rang off and then promptly dialed Randy. A sleepy voice answered at the seventh ring. “Wha’?” Randy said. “Randy, it’s Peggy. I’m sorry to wake you, but don’t stop to ask why. Just pull yourself together fast!” “All right. Okay. I’m awake now,” Randy said. “What’s the trouble, Peggy?” “I’ll explain later, when there’s time,” she said. “Right now, we haven’t a minute to lose. I want you to get dressed as fast as you can, and come right up here with the car. Make sure you have plenty of gas. I’ll be waiting.” “But ... all right.” Randy said. “You don’t sound as if you’re kidding. I’ll see you in about ten minutes!” He hung up. Peggy ran down to the kitchen. “I’m afraid we’ve talked about things for too long,” she said dismally, “and acted a little too late. If only I had made up my mind an hour sooner!” “What’s wrong?” Amy asked. Peggy explained what had happened. “Now they’re on their way to Idlewild,” she concluded, “and I don’t know if we stand a chance of reaching them before they take off. Randy’s on his way here now, and we’re going to try to get there in time, even if it means getting a police escort or the worst speeding tickets they hand out! Mr. and Mrs. Andrews have over half an hour’s head start.” “I think you have a good chance of making it,” May said calmly, “without exceeding the speed limits. If you are stopped by a policeman, you’ll lose more time than if Randy drives properly. Besides, their head start isn’t as great as you think it is. The airlines always make passengers arrive at least a half-hour before flight time, and most people allow even more time than that, in case of traffic delays. Still ... I admit, you haven’t got too much time to stand around talking.” “Randy said he’d be here in ten minutes,” Peggy said, “and it’s just about that now. I’d better go. Keep your fingers crossed.” She darted up the stairs. The two girls and May Berriman looked at each other. “I suggest,” May Berriman said with an air of finality, “that we switch from cocoa to coffee. I think it’s going to be a long night, and I, for one, have no intention of trying to sleep until it’s all over.” |
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