Fortune Is a Woman - Elizabeth Adler [178]
“Mrs. Wingate, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. “We weren’t expecting you this time.”
Maryanne looked at her coldly. She knew Annie Aysgarth was Francie Harrison’s friend and that she probably knew about her and Buck. “I decided to surprise my husband,” she said with an innocent smile. “The poor man travels so much, and I know he misses me. A man under constant pressure the way he is needs the support of his wife, don’t you think?”
Annie nodded pleasantly, but there was something about Maryanne’s smile that sent little warning bells ringing in her head. “I’m sure you’re right, Mrs. Wingate,” she said, “though I wish I had known because I would have kept your favorite suite. I’m afraid it’s already taken. Perhaps the Knaresborough will do instead? It’s not quite as big, but it has the same view across the square and the gardens.”
“Whatever,” Maryanne agreed uncharacteristically quickly. “Just move Mr. Wingate’s things in there along with mine.”
As she escorted her to the lift Annie had the feeling in her bones that something was up; normally Maryanne would have refused to take anything smaller. She was just too easy, all sweetness and light as she made small talk about the weather.
Maryanne treated her to another of those cold, innocent smiles. “I think I’ll take a rest, Miss Aysgarth. Could you see that I’m not disturbed? The maid can unpack for me later. If you could just quickly send up some tea, I’d be so grateful.”
As soon as Annie had closed the door behind her Maryanne flung off her bright red coat and fur hat. She took her keys from her alligator purse and unlocked her big leather valise; she took out a simple black coat, shaking it from mounds of tissue paper her maid had packed it in, and took a wide-brimmed black hat from one of the hat boxes.
She hurried into the bathroom and quickly applied face powder and lipstick, she brushed her short blond hair and then tucked it beneath the black hat. There was a knock on the door and she swung guiltily from the mirror, but it was just the maid with the tea and she called out to her to leave it on the table. She waited until she heard the door close again and then she put on the black coat, checked her appearance in the mirror again, picked up her purse and walked to the door.
She looked quickly up and down the empty corridor and then she ran to the emergency exit and pulled open the fire door, hurrying down the drab concrete staircase, counting the floors until she was dizzy. When she reached the bottom she glanced quickly around and then hurried out through the back exit. It was the first time in her life she had ever left by the servants’ door and she pulled her black hat low over her brow, praying no one would see her as she turned on Taylor Street toward Nob Hill.
The climb was a steep one and her heart was thudding as she walked along California Street looking for Francie’s house. When she saw it she stopped for a moment to collect herself and then she strode firmly up the steps and rang the bell.
Walking back from the club, Harry glanced with surprise at the woman ringing his sister’s doorbell. There were not many visitors to the Lai Tsin residence, but there was something eerily familiar about the woman in black. Moving stealthily into the shadows he watched as the door was opened by the Chinese houseboy and the woman spoke to him. The boy held the door wider and she turned and glanced quickly right and left before stepping inside. Harry gave a low, surprised whistle. What the hell was Maryanne Wingate doing visiting his notorious sister? Whatever it was she was up to no good. It wasn’t like Maryanne to lurk on anybody’s doorstep and she had been dressed in what amounted to a disguise, with her coat collar turned up and that hat pulled down over her eyes.
Intrigued, he hurried back to his own house. He stood at the first-floor window, watching,