was a far more positive action.
Elizabeth carefully weighed the alternatives. Calling the police would necessitate an investigation and probably a great deal of publicity. In light of Ulster's activities a year ago, that was undesirable. If Ulster's absence was his own doing, such action would only serve to provoke him. Without provocation her son was unpredictable, with it he might well be impossible. She decided to hire a discreet firm of investigators, which often had been called on to examine insurance claims against the family business. The owners understood completely and put only their most efficient and trusted men on the job.
Elizabeth gave them two weeks to unearth Ulster Stewart. Actually, she expected he'd show up by then, but if he didn't, she would turn the matter over to the police.
At the end of the first week, the investigators had compiled a multi page report about Ulster's habits. The places he most frequently visited, his friends (many), his enemies (few), and in as much detail as possible, a reconstruction of his movements during the last few days before he vanished. They gave this information to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth and Chancellor Drew studied the reports closely. They revealed nothing.
The second week proved equally unenlightening except to fill in Ulster's activities more minutely by the days and hours. Since his return from Europe, his daily rounds had become ritualistic. The squash courts and the steam rooms at the athletic club, the bank on lower Broadway, Waterman Trust; his cocktails on Fifty-third Street between 4:30 and 6:00 p. m. with five speakeasies sharing the five weekdays of his attendance, the nightly sorties into the entertainment world where a handful of entrepreneurs commandeered his indulgence (and financing), the almost routine early morning windups at a supper club on Fiftieth Street prior to his arrival home never later than 2:00 a. m.
One bit of data did catch Elizabeth's attention, as indeed it had the one who had reported it. It was incongruous. It appeared on Wednesday's sheet.
Left house at approximately 10:30 and immediately hailed a taxi in front of residence. Maid was sweeping front steps and believed she heard Mr Scarlett direct the driver to a subway.
Elizabeth had never thought of Ulster in a subway. And yet, two hours later, according to a 'Mr Mascolo, head waiter at the Venezia Restaurant,' he was having an early lunch with a 'Miss Dempsey (See Acquaintances Theatrical Artists). The restaurant was two blocks from Ulster's house. Of course there could be a dozen explanations and certainly nothing in the report indicated anything strange other than Ulster's decision to go to a subway. For the time being Elizabeth attributed it to Ulster's meeting someone, probably Miss Dempsey.
At the end of the week, Elizabeth capitulated and instructed Chancellor Drew to contact the police.
The newspapers had a red letter day.
The Bureau of Investigation joined with the Manhattan police on the premise that possibly interstate laws had been violated. Dozens of publicity seekers as well as many sincere individuals volunteered that they had seen. Ulster during that last week before his disappearance. Some macabre souls telephoned claiming knowledge of his whereabouts demanding money for the information. Five letters arrived asking ransom for his return. All leads were checked out. All proved worthless.
Benjamin Reynolds saw the story on page two of the Washington Herald. Other than the wedding it was the first news he'd read about Ulster Scarlett since his meeting with Elizabeth Scarlatti over a year ago. However, in keeping with his word, he had made discreet inquiries about the celebrated war hero during the past months - only to learn that he had rejoined his proper world. Elizabeth Scarlatti had done her job well. Her son had dropped out of the importing business and the rumors of his involvement with criminal elements had died away. He had gone so far as to assume some minor position - with New York's Waterman Trust.
It had seemed the affair Scarlatti was over for Ben Reynolds. And now this.
Would this mean it was no longer dormant, no longer a closed wound? Would it signify a reopening of the harsh speculation he, Ben Reynolds, had dwelled upon? Would Group Twenty be called in?
A Scarlatti son did not simply disappear without the government at least alerted. Too many congressmen were indebted to Scarlatti for one thing or another - a factory here, a newspaper there, a good-sized campaign check most of the time. Sooner or later someone would remember that Group Twenty had looked into the man's activities once