CHAPTER : 21Fish Finlay put his cigarette in the ash tray. She was barefooted, his rumpled striped pajamas rolled around her ankles, his bathrobe hitched up around her waist, one corner dragging, one sleeve rolled up and the other hanging, her head tousled, face pale, eyes wide with alarm. Bestoso’s black bearded jaw had dropped, so even had the sandy stubbled jaw of B. Meggs, for whatever hollow satisfaction Fish Finlay could get from that as he pulled himself together once more and got to his feet.
“This is Miss Jennifer Linton, gentlemen,” he said calmly. “Miss Linton, Lieutenant Bestoso of the Newport Police, and Mr. B. Meggs of the New York Courier Graphic.”
Her eyes widened and she swallowed. Then for a fragment of an instant, Fish could have leaped across the intervening space and
