Harold Robbins Thriller Collection

by Harold Robbins

  Six years ago. Then it was paying off Carroll and finding the money to stay in business. Now it was paying Kensington Mills so that she could retain control of her own business before they sold it down the river in a merger with another giant conglomerate. Nothing had changed except success.

  And at this point in time, the net result of success was that it had driven up the cost of freedom. Ten million dollars. Six years ago it had cost only a little more than a million dollars. But then there were Lauren and Patrick.

  Now there was no one but herself.

  It had been six years since the night of the red collection, after which she and Jacques had gone to see Maurice. Oddly enough he was awake and seemed to be expecting her. He had come right to the point. “You blew the deal with Carroll?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Then you know that Philippe has signed with him?”

  Surprise echoed in her voice. She glanced at Jacques, then back at him. “How did you know?” But even as she asked the question she knew the answer. The “pedes” had their own grapevine and there were no secrets in their world.

  He smiled without answering. His man came in with a tray on which there were coffee and sandwiches, placed the tray on a coffee table and left the room. Maurice gestured. “I thought you might want something to eat.”

  She looked at him. “What else do you know, Maurice?”

  “He got to Philippe through Marlon,” he answered. “But that doesn’t matter now. C’est fait. It is done.” He went to the coffee table and filled the cups, then held one out to her. “Take some,” he said almost gently. “A hot drink will do all of us some good.”

  “Thank you.” She sipped at the hot coffee. He was right. She began to feel better.

  “How much will it take to get Carroll off your back?” he asked.

  “A million francs,” she said.

  He looked at her for a long moment, then, without speaking, he went to his desk and opened a drawer. Quickly he took out a checkbook and wrote in it, then held the check out to her.

  She looked down at it. One million francs. Then at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He smiled again. “You don’t have to say anything. We’re a family.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. This wasn’t Maurice. She was silent.

  “But that only takes care of Carroll,” he said. “It doesn’t solve the real problem. Where do you go from here?”

  “I’ll find another association,” she said. “After tonight’s collection there should not be too much of a problem.”

  “Patrick’s company, the Reardon Group, just bought Kensington Mills in the States and I heard they’re interested in going into prêt á porter,” Jacques said. “I’m sure Patrick will be of help there. And there are others.”

  “It has to be fast,” Maurice said. “You can’t afford to lose the momentum this collection has given you.”

  “I know that,” Janette said. “Jacques is going to London tomorrow morning to look into the situation there.”

  Jacques glanced at her but didn’t speak. This was the first he had heard of it.

  “In that case perhaps Jacques should go home and get some rest so that he can make an early start,” Maurice said with a smile.

  “I’ll be all right,” Jacques said quickly.

  Maurice smiled again. “I’m sure you will be. But there are some things I would like to discuss with Janette. Personal family matters.”

  Jacques looked at her. She nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’ll do that,” he said. He held out his hand to Maurice. “I’d like to add my thanks to Janette’s.”

  “You don’t have to,” Maurice said. He waited until the door had closed behind him, then gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit down. You must be exhausted.”

  She sank into the chair and looked at him silently.

  “Would you like a cognac?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He filled two snifters, handed one to her, then sat down behind his desk. He raised his glass. “Cheers.”

  She sipped at the liquor. It felt warm and good going down. She still didn’t speak.

  “Is Lauren staying in Paris?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. She’s leaving tomorrow for Saint-Tropez with Patrick. I’m not going down until the weekend.”

  He nodded. “This collection should do well. With luck I think you might make some money this year.”

  “As soon as we do, you’ll have your money back,” she said.

  He waved his hand. “It’s not important. I’m really not concerned about it.”

  She took another sip of the cognac. “Okay, Maurice. We’re alone now. You can stop playing games. Exactly what is it that you want?”

  He laughed. Then the laughter faded from his voice. “Money. What other reason could I have?”

  “How much?” she asked.

  “Twenty million dollars,” he said.

  She stared at him. “You’re crazy. There isn’t that kind of money in my business.”

  “I’m not interested in your business,” he said. “I want no part of it. I don’t even care whether you pay me back or not.”

  “Then where do you expect me to find that kind of money?” she asked.

  “In a Swiss bank,” he said. “When your mother left France to go to Switzerland to meet the general, she left in an automobile whose sides and doors were filled with gold napoleons. None of that money ever turned up.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know it,” he answered. “I’ve never been able to prove it.”

  “Did you ask my mother?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “But of course she denied it. The way she felt about me, I couldn’t expect her to say anything else.” He was silent for a moment. “Johann knows where it is.”

  She stared at him. “What makes you think that?”

  He smiled. “He bought you out, didn’t he?”

  “He got that money from his father-in-law.”

  “That’s what he wanted everybody to think,” Maurice said. “But I checked into it. He didn’t get anything from his father-in-law. Not until after he took the company and merged it with the old man’s.”

  “If it’s true,” Janette said, “how am I going to find out about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Maurice said. “But sooner or later it will have to come out. In time, everything does. And when it does, I’m your partner.”

  She finished her cognac. “I can’t believe it.”

  He smiled at her. “Believe it or not, is it a deal?”

  She laughed. “If that’s all you want, it’s a deal.”

  “I’ll have an agreement drawn in the morning,” Maurice said. “We’ll both sign it.”

  “You really believe it, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She rose from her chair. “It’s been a long day. I think it’s time for me to go.”

  He didn’t get out of his chair. “Remember when you were a girl you used to wear black bikini panties for me? Do you still wear them?”

  “No.” She smiled down at him. “I’m a grownup now. I don’t wear any.”

  He laughed, getting out of his chair and following her to the door. He held it open for her. She turned and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Maurice.”

  He looked up at her. “The next time you see Johann, why don’t you just ask him about it?”

  “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years. What makes you think I might see him now?”

  “One never knows,” he said. “But if you do, just remember to ask him.”

  Then, a week later, after the weekend in Saint-Tropez, she did see Johann. But she never brought it up. It was all too ridiculous for anyone to believe.

  She opened the door and he stood there, the shock of time running backward holding him immobile. Tanya. He almost spoke the name aloud. She was her mother.

  “Johann!” she exclaimed, taking him by the hand
and leading him into the suite. Closing the door behind him, she kissed him on both cheeks. “Johann,” she said again.

  Suddenly he felt awkward and stiff, just as he had felt with her mother. “Janette,” he said. And when he spoke her name aloud, the strangeness he felt left him. He blinked his eyes rapidly. “I’m genuinely happy to see you,” he said and meant it.

  She smiled. And that, too, was her mother’s smile. “I never thought you would be in New York.”

  “I came in for a board meeting,” he said. “And when I heard you were in town, I had to call.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she said. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Just coffee,” he answered. “I have other meetings this afternoon.”

  “You haven’t changed,” she smiled. “I have the coffee waiting.” They went to the table and sat down. For a moment he glanced out the window. It was a hot summer day in New York. Central Park was crowded, and the buildings on the West Side shimmered in the heat, but in the enclosed suite on the twenty-second floor of the Pierre, the air conditioning was silent and comfortable.

  She studied him as she poured the coffee. Johann had changed. There was a quiet sense of self about him that she had never felt before. Perhaps because his once-blond hair was grayer, perhaps because he was slightly heavier, perhaps because his dress was American, less formal than it had been in Europe. But even more perhaps because he was content.

  “No sugar,” he said smiling. “I have to watch my weight.”

  She laughed. “We all do.”

  He took the cup. “Tell me about Lauren. Is she enjoying herself?”

  “I think so,” Janette answered. “Right now, she’s on the yacht of a friend of mine in Sardinia. I met them in Saint-Tropez on the weekend.”

  “Is her friend there?”

  “Harvey?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded.

  “Lauren’s known him for years,” he said. “Heidi always worries about him. She thinks he’s a bad influence on her.”

  Janette smiled. “I don’t think Heidi has anything to worry about. Harvey’s a sweet boy and Lauren leads him around by the nose, not the other way around.”

  Johann laughed. “I keep telling her that.”

  “How is Heidi?” Janette asked.

  “Very well,” Johann answered. “We are both well. And very fortunate.” He glanced around the suite. “I thought Jacques might be here.”

  “He had to go out to some meeting,” Janette said. “He asked me to give you his regards and apologies for not being able to wait for you.”

  “I understand,” Johann said. He looked at her. “What happened between you and Carroll?”

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  Johann nodded. “Of course. But that was his version. I would like to hear your side.”

  “There is no side,” Janette said. “He just wanted me to do certain things I would not do.”

  “Such as?”

  She met his gaze. “He wanted me to make a promotion through Lauren. I said that was not in our agreement—that what she did in the collection was a one-time thing for her and not a way of life. He became incensed at that and began to insist. I gave him back his money. That’s the whole of it.”

  Johann nodded. He sipped at his coffee again. “He told me that Philippe Fayard is leaving you to join him.”

  “That’s true,” Janette said.

  “Will that hurt you?” he asked. “Because I can stop him if you want me to.”

  Janette shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything. Philippe’s contract was up this year and I was not planning to renew it. In many ways I have outgrown him and I feel that couture is moving in a completely different direction. I want to be free to follow it without having to fight my own designer at every turn. That was one thing I learned from the last collection.”

  “But financially? I heard you were having problems.”

  “True enough,” she said. “But I’ll solve them. At least we’ll make a great deal of money this year. That will help.”

  “You know, you can always call on me,” he said.

  She looked at him for a moment, then blinked her eyes and nodded. “I’ve always known that, Johann,” she said. “Even when I was at my bitchiest.”

  Jacques sat morosely in his seat next to Janette as Air France 070 lifted from the runway at Kennedy International Airport into the skies over New York. Janette turned from the window to look at him. “We’re passing over the Statue of Liberty.”

  “If I had my way, we’d take it back,” he said, scowling.

  In spite of herself, she had to smile. “We didn’t lose anything,” she said. “And we learned a great deal.”

  “Sure we did,” he said bitterly. “We learned how stupid and naive we really are.”

  “You’ll feel better when you have a drink,” she said.

  “I need more than that,” he said. “As soon as they turn the seat-belt sign off, I’m going to the john and have a couple of strong toots.”

  She laughed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Damn!” he said. “How could we have been so stupid? It was Givenchy they wanted all the time. They didn’t even have the decency to tell us that the Reardon Group was already negotiating with him.”

  “I don’t blame them for that,” she said. “If I were in their position I would rather go with Givenchy than Janette. After all, he has already proven himself. And he is one of the best.”

  “They dragged us all the way over just to pick our brains,” he said.

  “We picked theirs too,” she said. “At least now we know what they’re looking for. Besides they haven’t signed with Givenchy yet. Maybe they never will. He has a great deal more to be independent about than we have.”

  A faint bell announced the seat-belt light going off. Jacques got to his feet. “A double scotch on the rocks,” he said to the stewardess as he started for the washroom.

  “Champagne,” Janette said, rising also. She waited outside the lavatory door and took the small vial from his hand as he came out. “Feel better now?”

  “It helps,” he said grumpily. “So far that’s the only good thing about this trip.”

  She locked the door behind her and looked into the mirror. The washroom lights on airplanes were never the most flattering. She looked tired. There were faint dark shadows under her eyes. She opened the vial and, using his gold spoon, took a snort. She breathed deeply, letting the cocaine get into her. She felt the lift. She put a tiny bit on her finger and rubbed it into her gums. She liked the taste. She closed the vial carefully and put it in her bag.

  She looked into the mirror once again. She did not appear so tired now. Quickly she checked her makeup—a little powder under her eyes on her cheekbones, lip gloss, and she was ready to go back to her seat.

  Jacques rose to let her into her seat. He handed her the glass of champagne and raised his drink. “Cheers,” he said. “You look better.”

  “Shows you what a little makeup will do,” she laughed.

  They both sipped at their drinks. “Now what?” Jacques asked.

  She shrugged. “We’ll see. At least we’re making money this year so we’re in no immediate trouble.”

  “Do you think Johann meant it when he told you that you can go to him for money?” he asked.

  “I’m sure that he did,” she said. “But I’m not going to. It would mean living in my mother’s shadow forever and never being on my own.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Too bad your friend Patrick has nothing to do with his family’s business. If he did, we probably could pull it off.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. Patrick has his own quirks. But under the right circumstances they could be made to work for her. At this point there was nothing to lose. “Maybe we still can,” she said.

  The lights were on but the villa seemed empty when Lauren and Harvey came through the front door around midnight. Harvey put down their valises. “Mayb
e she’s not back from New York yet,” he said.

  “She said she would be back on the weekend,” Lauren answered.

  Janette’s voice came from the balcony at the top of the staircase. “Lauren?”

  “Yes,” Lauren called back. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

  “You didn’t,” Janette said. “I got a call from a friend at L’Escale about a half hour ago that you had just come into port, and I was getting dressed to go down and join you. Is Patrick with you?”

  “No,” Lauren answered. “Just Harvey. Patrick was going to turn in early. Everything go all right in New York?”

  “Fine,” Janette said. “I saw Johann. He sends you his love. Did you have fun in Sardinia?”

  “It was great,” Lauren said. “The beaches are big and quiet. Not like here.”

  Janette came down the staircase. She was wearing a tight-fitting black leather micro-mini skirt. Her eyes were bright, and there were flecks of golden glitter on the makeup on her cheekbones. “What about the nightlife?” she asked. “I heard a great new discothéque opened there.”

  “We never went out at night. Once or twice to a restaurant but mainly we stayed on the boat,” Lauren answered. “It never seemed as if very much was happening.”

  “That doesn’t sound very much like Patrick,” Janette said. “He usually never wants to stay in.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Harvey announced. “It will feel good to sleep one night in a bed that isn’t moving. I still feel as if I’m walking on a deck.”

  “You’ll be over it in the morning,” Janette laughed as he started up the steps.

  Lauren waited until she heard the door of his room close, then turned to Janette. “I have a joint here. Would you like to share it?”

  “Of course,” Janette answered. She looked at Lauren as she lit the joint. “Is everything all right? You look very serious.”

  “Everything’s all right,” Lauren said quickly, passing the joint to her.

  Janette dragged on it. “Are you having a problem with Harvey?”

  “No.” Lauren shook her head. She looked at her sister. “What do you think of Patrick? Seriously.”