“We’ve been married quite a long time.” Her fingers tugged at my belt buckle and opened it. “I was seventeen on my wedding day.”
“What difference does that make? You should improve with age.”
“Perhaps if there were a difference, I could explain it. Indifference is the trouble. I told you he was a dedicated man.”
“You love him?”
“By all means.”
“And he loves you?”
“Yes. Certainly. But there are things other than love, aren’t there?”
She was propped on one elbow, her chin in her hand. I eased my arm down and ran my fingers in the naked valley between her breasts. I felt the muscular tic run across her shoulders and the fingers at my belt twitched slightly and become motionless. I patted her cheek gently and put my hand back under my head. The fingers started in again. This time the snap popped loose and she pulled the zipper down halfway, then started rubbing soft circles into my belly.
“What things?” I asked her.
Now the soft circles widened and deepened and the fingertips were delicate feathers searching, finding and barely touching. “Understanding, for one thing.” She squeezed gently and her breath caught in her throat. “You understand,” she stated.
“Sometimes you have to tell them, Sheila.”
Her hand paused and her eyes lifted to stare into the darkness. “I ... can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing to say.” She looked back at me again and I knew she was smiling. “I’d like to hit you with a big stick,” she said. “You know too damn much.” Her fingers squeezed again, deliberately hard and my breath hissed in between my teeth. “You’re awfully ready, aren’t you?”
“Obvious, isn’t it?”
“Really ready?”
“Really,” I told her.
“Let’s find out,” she said, and I lost her in the darkness. only the outline of her hair moving with the fluid motion of the waves that were breaking in the background, each roller seeming to come in with greater force until the tidal inundation swept up and over me in a thunderous crescendo and then the crescent moon fell back into place among the clouds and she was smiling down at me again.
“Nice?”
“Beautiful,” I said. “Nice?”
“Lovely,” she told me. She did all the little things and finished with the buttons on my shirt, then stood up, reached out her hand and pulled me to my feet. “Can I ask you something now?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you want to see me?”
“You invited me to, remember?”
“Don’t hedge.”
I dug cigarettes out, gave her one and lit them. “I was going to see if I could get anything out of you about your husband’s plot to grab Barrin.”
“Change your mind?”
“Nope. Just my approach. I should have simply asked, right?”
“The answer would be the same,” she said. “He wants Barrin. It’s not just a toy like the other organizations he controls, it’s a project.” She took my hand and we started down toward the water to skirt the edge back to the path. “It’s a hangover from when your grandfather was alive. Cross was determined to be the biggest and Cameron Barrin was the only obstacle he had to hurdle. Poor Cross, he never could make it. That old man tripped him up every time he tried to move.”
“Now he thinks he has it made?”
“Well, he’s gloating. I’ve seen him do it before and when he gloats it means he’s won.”
For a minute we just walked, kicking at the sand. We reached the path and turned up toward the dunes. I said, “What’s he going to do with it if he gets it?”
“Have you ever seen a company raided, Dog?”
I nodded and helped her over a grassy mound of sand.
“He says it won’t matter because there’s nothing left to salvage anyway. He’s looking to the future when everything here can be his to do with as he likes.”
“Then he can’t be very happy,” I said.
She stopped and looked up at me. “You know about the beach being sold?”
“Somebody in the family bought it, I understand.”
“That somebody could be in trouble if there’s any way at all to do it. He’ll spend everything he has to get his hands on the Barrin property.”
“Hasn’t he got enough now?”
“Until he has it all, he’ll never have enough. I told you, Cross is dedicated.”
“Too bad.”
“Why?”
“Guys like that ache pretty bad when they can’t get the things they want.”
She caught the inflection in my voice and I felt that shudder run up her arm again. “Some things are just impossible,” she said.
“Not if you think about it. Now suppose I ask you something.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Why did you bother seeing me?”
“There was something I wanted to find out about you.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry?”
“No guilt complex, Mr. Kelly. My curiosity has always led me into odd situations.”
“It can get you into trouble.”
“That I found out a long time ago.”
I was going to say something, decided not to and steered her toward the end of the path. When we reached the car I held the door open and she got in. She had a pixie tilt to her eyes and she was smiling again. I got behind the wheel and turned the key.
“Are you taking me back to my car?”
“You’ve had your curiosity satisfied for one night, doll. Besides, I have a conference to attend.” I looked at my watch and it was a little after nine. “My cousins are finishing their meeting in thirty minutes. Then it’s my turn.”
“Dog...”
“Uh-huh?”
“We had a very interesting evening. Will you ever see me again?”
“Indubitably, kitten.”
“Even if Cross wants to kill you?”
“He’ll have to stand in line,” I said.
Hobis and The Chopper hadn’t had any trouble since they took up the stakeout. Three hours ago Hobis had reported that he thought there was a surveillance on Lee’s apartment but didn’t want to expose the setup by checking it out. I passed the word for him to get in somebody else if he wanted to assign a tail to be sure of it, but for him to hold his position.
My man at the other end said it would be done, coughed and lapsed back into French again. “I’ve had a call from the Continent.”
“So?”
“Pierre Dumont was shot just outside Marseilles.”
“Bad?”
“Superficial wound in the leg, but O’Keefe is sending him back. That shipment apparently was bigger than anyone realized. Every possibility is being covered and the city is a focal point for every assassin that can be bought.”
“Don’t write me a story. Just tell me what the scoop is.”
“Pardon?”
“Just tell it.”
“I see. Yes. Le Fleur has posted a ... a ... how do you say it?”
“Reward?”
“Exactly. The shipment is worth approximately seventy million in street money. The loss cannot be tolerated. The government has confiscated the last two and this one was to make up the deficit. There are some stories circulating that it has already gone out.”
“To whom?” I asked him.
He coughed again and was hesitant with his answer. “To you,” was all he said.
“Somebody’s got their wires crossed.”
“I have been advised that we should sever all connections.”
“You’ve been advised wrong, my friend. Just don’t cross any of my wires.”
“It isn’t like ... before, Mr. Kelly.”
“Nothing has changed at all, old buddy. You’re getting your fat deposits in the bank and let it stand just like that. I don’t like this shit any more than you do, but when the heat’s on, don’t tr
y ducking out or you’re the one who’s liable to be caught in the middle.”
“Mr. Kelly ... it isn’t just me.”
“Take your pick then ... which one are you afraid of the most?”
“Sir?”
“You got the picture,” I said. “Now I’m going to add to it. You know the Guido brothers?”
“Mr. Kelly ...”
“They were the consignees. They’re looking hard too. There’s no way that stuff can get to me, but all that flap is making me one special kind of a target I don’t like, and this thing gets ripped apart in a hurry or this here dog is going to lay somebody out, you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Okay, then pass the word. I’m out. The thing is sour. I’m getting bugged and when I get bugged somebody gets hurt and that somebody is plural. Does this message get through or not?”
“Yes ... I believe I understand.”
I hung up the phone and walked back to the bar where Tod was polishing the mahogany top to a glossy finish, a stalling operation that gave him an excuse for not having to talk. He barely gave me a glance, but I picked up my glass and moved down to where he was so busy rubbing and pulled a stool up with my foot.
“What’s the beef, Tod?”
“No beef,” he muttered.
“Think I’m upsetting the applecart?”
He shrugged and spilled some more oily liquid on the aged wood, rubbing it in with the rag. He finally stopped, cranking his face up to mine with worried lines creasing his forehead. “Cross is going to find out, kid.”
“Who’ll tell him?”
“Things don’t get hidden so easily around here.”
“Linton’s been a burial ground of big secrets for a long time, Tod.”
“Not anymore.”
“I told you,” I said, “it was just a friendly visit.”
Tod scowled, trying hard to believe me. “So why bother?”
“You got to keep looking for the leverage, Tod.”
He nodded as if he understood, then capped the can of polish and put it under the bar. I finished my beer while he washed his hands and when he walked back again he held a folded sheet of notepaper and handed it to me. “Stanley Cramer said to give this to you.”
The note was brief, a simple “Stop by and see me,” signed with his initials.
“He say what this was about?” I asked him.
“Nope. Said to bring the little lady too.”
I rolled the note up and dropped it in the ashtray. “She’s in the city.”
“ ’S okay. Stan’s outa town too. Said he’ll be back in a few days. Looking up a couple of his old buddies, I think. The kid’s father used to work with him.” He looked up for confirmation.
“A long time ago.”
“Funny bunch, those old-timers. Good company men. Be nice if things work out around here.”
“They will, Tod.” I said. I picked up my hat and dropped my change in my pocket. “Incidentally, did Sharon Cass ever go with anybody from around here?”
Once again I got that quizzical look and his mouth thinned out. “Don’t all girls?”
“She’s been in New York quite awhile.”
“First she lived here.”
“The other day you said you heard something.”
His mouth tightened again. “She’s engaged.”
“So she told me.”
“You figuring to break up the engagement?”
“Maybe I don’t want that to happen.”
Tod stood there leaning on the bar. After a moment he nodded sagely. “You’re a big boy now, kiddo. You look like you’ve been takin’ care of a lot of problems and a lot of answers up till now, so you just keep right on doin’ that and you can never blame anybody else for giving you bad advice.”
My face cracked into a grin. “Okay, philosopher.” I put on my hat.
“Just don’t hurt her,” he added.
“Hell, she’s still a virgin.”
“That’s what I hear,” he said. He wasn’t grim anymore. He reminded me of a schoolteacher I once had.
Alfred and Dennison weren’t good listeners. Their guts had been churning ever since I had arrived and now they sat tight-lipped with untasted drinks while I told them what they were going to do.
The funny part was that I didn’t even have to lay it all on the line. Their three sisters had picked up the pace the minute I made the statement and were bubbling over with enthusiasm about having a motion picture made in Linton with the Barrin complex an integral part of the background. There was absolutely no doubt about which way they wanted things to go and from the indirect looks Al and Dennie were exchanging the message was loud and clear. Either they’d have to indulge their sisters’ whims or find themselves possibly bucked in laying their hands on the Barrin stocks they thought the girls still owned. Somebody had clued Lucella in and she played the game with school-girl anticipation, except that with her the humor of the situation seemed more real. Ever since she had divorced Fred Simon she had been put down in the family and now she was finally one up on them, not having been made to pull a nudie in her own front room.
But the only one really enjoying the situation was Pam’s husband. Marvin Gates had to hide his laughter behind a constantly uptilted Martini glass and when it got too much for him he excused himself to get a cigar.
I wondered how he hao found out.
My cousins had the escape harch opened for them when I dropped in the bit about the public-spirit angle. There were others who would benefit with movie company pay-checks and the publicity would smother any adverse criticism the unions might give the press.
But they couldn’t give a quick affirmative. There had to be some show of strength and after a forty-minute private conference they came back to the library and agreed that as long as nothing interfered with factory operation they didn’t see why it couldn’t be done.
Very grandiosely Alfred managed to add, “It’s nice to see you taking an interest, Dogeron.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said.
“Although it has little or nothing to do with our previous situation.”
“None at all,” I stated. I tasted my drink and put it down again. I never did like Martinis.
“You might be interested to know I have uncovered certain information about your past,” he continued.
“Oh?”
“There was a woman of nobility in Europe..
“There were two,” I interrupted calmly, “although you’d hardly get them to admit to it.”
“Certain evidence is in existence.”
“I heard about those photos. I also heard that the guy who took them is dead. A hunting accident with the husband of the countess he tried to shake down. The husband insists the woman in the photo is not his wife.”
Alfred’s mouth had the upturned comers of a rattlesnake smile. “There are other things.”
“Perseverance. That’s what I like about you, Alfie boy.” I picked the olive out of the Martini, ate it and got up.
“You’ll be hearing about the movie details in a day or so. Should be fun.”
Nobody bothered to say good-bye when I left. Only Marvin Gates rose to walk me out. Somehow he still looked like one of those old-time directors, his eyes a little bleary now, his walk unsteady.
Harvey, the butler, met us in the foyer and held out my coat and hat, then retreated to the pantry. Marvin gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder and let the big smile he had suppressed all evening come through. “Good show, old man. It’s a great thing to see them on the run. The ladies have changed considerably since your last visit.”
“Who put you wise, buddy?”
One eye crinkled in a wink. “We drinkers exchange confidences out of sheer boredom. Seems like Lucella awoke to hear voices and came downstairs to catch the play. Needless to say, she hurried back up again at the final curtain and seemed to find it all very amusing. As a matter of fact, I’m sorry I missed it. That night I was ... ah, engaged myself. Not
hing quite as exciting as your scene though.”
“Now everybody’s got a secret,” I said.
“Indeed we have. A lovely one to be let out at the proper moment.”
“When will that be?”
“After it has been savored to the last. Ah, yes. I have the distinct impression that everybody is sitting on a time bomb.”
“Enjoy yourself,” I told him.
“Totally,” he said.
I heard the cough from the bushes just as I reached the car and spun, dropping to the ground on one knee with the .45 in my hand. The voice had a note of sudden fear when it said, “It’s me, sir. Harvey.”
“What a way to get yourself killed,” I told him.
He came out of the shrubbery while I stuck the gun back, a little shaken by what he had seen. “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean ... but I thought you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Have you anybody waiting for you, sir?”
“No. Why?”
“A car has circled the grounds several times. Right now it is parked about fifty yards south of the main gate drawn back into the trees. The occupant is across the road watching the house.”
“How’d you spot him?”
“I didn’t, sir. It was my nephew.” He fidgeted a moment, then: “Well, his family is rather impoverished. Every week I manage to see that he gets a supply of groceries to take home.”
“Toting privileges?”
“Something like that, sir, if you don’t mind.”
“No sweat.”
“He saw the car and thinking it was the police, waited to see what was happening. The person never left so he came in the old way.”
“Why bother telling me about it?”
I saw his eyes drop to where I had put the gun. “I’m rather glad I did now, sir.”
“The old way out still big enough to get a car through?”
“Possibly. It is pretty well overgrown but the gardener takes the refuse out through there with the small tractor.”
“Okay, Harvey. And thanks.”
“Sir ... will there be any trouble?”
“Not now,” I said.
Sergeant Tobano had glowered through two cups of coffee, listening to me, saying nothing, but never taking his eyes from mine. Outside the all night restaurant the sun was filtering through the heavy air, pressuring the light onto the city. The couple with the jangling hangovers had left and two hippie types took their seats, but not before the counterman had scooped up the change they had left as a tip.
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