by Stuart Woods
“But don’t worry, the mustache goes when we leave Santa Fe.”
“You’re taking a lot for granted, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Well, you’re coming with me, aren’t you?”
“What would you do if I didn’t?”
“I’d throw a sack over your head and lock you in the trunk of the car.”
She laughed. “Well,” she said, “I guess I don’t have a choice.” She kissed him. “Maybe the French have got something there.”
• • •
ED AND SUSANNAH EAGLE pulled up in front of Dax Baxter’s new house and gave their car to a valet parker. “Well,” Ed said, regarding the house, “the lighting guy did a good job.”
The house stood out against the landscape, which was burned red by the setting sun.
“He did, didn’t he?” Susannah said. “Let’s go check out the inside.”
“After that can we leave?” Ed asked plaintively.
“We’ll see,” she replied. She took his hand and towed him in through a very large set of weathered antique doors. The sounds of a mariachi band came from a corner of the enormous living room.
“The band was predictable, wasn’t it?” Ed asked.
“Shut up and look at this place,” Susannah said.
An enormous fireplace hosted a pile of burning piñon logs, sending out their pungent scent.
“Fit for a medieval castle,” Ed muttered.
“But right in scale with the room,” Susannah said. “It must be thirty by fifty feet.”
“Come to think of it,” Ed said, “I’ve never seen this many sofas in one place, outside a hotel lobby.”
The room was half filled with people in Western outfits and more were arriving.
“They must be casting a musical number in a Roy Rogers movie,” Ed said, looking over the crowd.
They passed through the living room, pausing to shake the hand of an acquaintance here and there.
“There,” Susannah said, pointing to a clot of people surrounding a short, balding man crammed into a cowboy outfit. “That’s Drake Shelbourne, the production designer,” she said. “I have to speak to him.”
Ed allowed himself to be maneuvered through the crowd.
“Susannah!” Shelbourne cried, as if she had come to rescue him.
“Hello, Drake,” Susannah said, leaning down and allowing herself to be kissed on both cheeks. “This place looks fabulous! It’s the only reason we’re here.”
Shelbourne broke up. “Me, too!” Susannah introduced him to her husband.
“I picked him out of the crowd,” Shelbourne said, reaching up to shake his hand. “He’s what, seven feet tall?”
“Only six-foot-eight,” Susannah replied.
Ed sighed and shook the man’s hand. “It was the only way I could get a college basketball scholarship. Nice job on the house, Drake. It was dreadful, before you came along.”
“That’s the God’s truth,” Shelbourne said. “I stripped it to the plaster everywhere. Now it at least looks as if a human being lives here—or maybe a dozen human beings. Check out the patio.” He pointed to another set of double doors across the room.
They moved in that direction, stopping at the bar to acquire refreshments. The patio was large, with a pile of rocks making a water feature, a jazz trio playing, and, in one corner, one of Dan Ostermiller’s wonderful bear sculptures, a bronze of a full-sized animal climbing a tree.
“I saw that at Nedra Matteucci’s gallery,” Ed said, “and I wanted it, but it cost more than my car.”
“You can probably buy it from Dax Baxter for half that after the party. The word is, he’s strapped for cash, and I have a feeling that everything here will be for sale tomorrow.”
• • •
TEDDY AND SALLY made their entrance to the party a few minutes later and had much the same reaction to the house as had the Eagles.
“This place is the size of a sound stage,” Teddy commented.
“I was going to say a high school gymnasium,” Sally replied, “but I’ll buy sound stage.”
They had been there for less than a minute when Teddy spotted the Russian.
20
DIMITRI KASOV STOOD, immobile, scanning the crowd. He had apparently not spotted Teddy yet.
Teddy stepped behind Sally.
“Are you about to pinch my ass?” she asked.
“A good idea,” he replied, “but not at the moment. I’m using you for cover.”
“Cover from what?”
“Do you see the short, thickset guy standing by the fireplace in a black hat?”
“Yes, what about him?”
“The black hat is appropriate. He’s a Russian from L.A. called Dimitri Kasov. There was a rumor going around this afternoon that Dax had sent for him.”
“I didn’t hear the rumor. Is he some sort of post-production expert? Who is he and what does he do?”
“As Dan put it to me, he makes people disappear.”
“So he’s a magician, here for the floor show?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what do you mean, he makes people disappear?”
Teddy didn’t answer that. “Let’s move to our left, out to the patio, and keep yourself between me and the Russian.”
“Ted, ah, Billy, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain it on the patio.” They maneuvered outside, and the air was cool and crisp.
“You’re starting to alarm me,” Sally said.
“I don’t mean to, I’m just being cautious.”
“Good evening, Ted,” a deep voice behind them said.
Teddy turned to find Dax Baxter standing there, wearing a buckskin suit, like Buffalo Bill, and a ten-gallon Stetson.
“Good evening, Dax,” Teddy said. “Wonderful party, and the house is beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Dax said.
“Did you really get this done in just a few days?”
“I’m an impatient person, so I got it done in a hurry.”
“Beautiful job,” Sally said.
“Thank you, Sally,” Dax replied. “You did a good job for me. You’ll find my gratitude expressed in your final paycheck.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“Excuse me,” Dax said. “I have to speak to someone.” He went back into the house.
“No need to hide from the Russian now,” Teddy said.
“What’s changed?” Sally asked.
“Dax is telling him where I am right now. I guess this is as good a place as any,” he said, looking around the patio. “Sally, I’d appreciate it very much if, instead of asking questions, you’d just go and get into the truck.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” she said.
“All right. Dax has hired the Russian to either kill me or hurt me very badly. He’s on the way out here to do one of those things right now.”
“I’ll wait in the truck,” she said, “unless you’d like me to throw myself between you.”
“No, I wouldn’t like that. Please go now. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I’m going to call the cops,” she said.
“If you do, they’ll arrest me, instead of the Russian,” Teddy said. “Now get out of here.” He slapped her on the ass, propelling her toward the front of the house.
Teddy looked around. Ed and Susannah Eagle, who had been looking at a bronze bear, were on their way back into the house, leaving him alone on the patio. He went and stood by the tree the bear was climbing.
Dimitri Kasov appeared in the doorway, stopped, and had a look around.
Teddy bent down and retrieved the switchblade from his ankle. “I believe you’re looking for me,” he said across the expanse of the patio.
“Ah,�
� Kasov said. “You’ve heard.”
“Everybody has heard, Mr. Kasov. When we’re done here, one of us will leave in an ambulance, the other with the police. You get to choose which one you want to be.”
Kasov’s right hand went behind him to the small of his back.
Teddy hoped it wouldn’t come out holding a gun; a knife, he had reason to know, wasn’t much use in a gunfight.
Kasov’s hand emerged holding a straight knife with about an eight-inch blade. “You were expecting a gun, maybe?”
“No.” Teddy flicked open the switchblade but kept it at his side.
“It won’t hurt much,” Kasov said, taking a step forward. Then, instead of using the knife, he aimed a kick at Teddy’s head.
Teddy moved his head enough for the kick to miss, then grabbed Kasov by the ankle and made a swift cut through his jeans and the back of his calf. Then he shoved Kasov backward while holding onto his ankle. Kasov fell to the stone floor.
“You were wrong,” Teddy said. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
Kasov crawled out of reach, spider-like. He took off his belt and wrapped it around his thigh above the knee, then jerked it tight. “If you’re going to kill me, do it at the throat,” he said.
“I haven’t decided,” Teddy said, “but I’ll tell you this for a fact. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you. Now, your best move is to get yourself to your car, drive back to highway 284, then to St. Francis Drive and follow the signs to the hospital. Do you think you can manage that without causing a disturbance?”
“I can manage,” Kasov said, getting awkwardly to his feet and hobbling toward the outdoor exit from the patio, while holding tightly to the end of his belt.
Teddy watched him go, then he wiped his blade with a tissue, folded it, and stuck it back into his boot.
Kasov stopped at the edge of the patio. “If I see you again,” he called back, “you won’t see me until it’s too late.”
Teddy watched him disappear around the corner of the house, then he walked back into the living room where Dax stood, talking to some men in suits. He walked over. “Excuse me, Dax,” he said, “I’m leaving now, and I wanted to thank you for your kind invitation. It’s an impressive house.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, your Russian friend wasn’t feeling well, and I think he’s on the way to the hospital now. Good night.”
Dax blinked rapidly. “What?”
Teddy walked out of the house without answering, and before he could give his ticket to the valet, Sally drove up in the truck, and he got in.
“I saw the Russian leave the house, limping badly,” she said. “He got into a car and left.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Teddy replied.
“Did you have anything to do with that?” she asked.
“I guess you could say I helped,” Teddy replied.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“How about a bite at El Nido, then my place?”
“Sounds good to me.” She put the truck in gear and drove away from the house.
“Tomorrow, we’ll get an early start,” Teddy said. “We’ll stop for the night in Phoenix, then make L.A. the following day.”
“Does the Russian live in L.A.?”
“We won’t be seeing him again,” Teddy replied.
21
TEDDY DROVE DOWN the Pacific Coast Highway and, just before the turn to Malibu Colony, turned into his short drive and opened the garage door with his clicker. His wife’s Mercedes station wagon was parked next to him.
“Whose car?” Sally asked sleepily. It had been a long drive from Phoenix.
“Yours,” he said. He reached into the glove box, extracted a plain key ring and handed it to her. “That’s the key and the house key. The garage door works on a button at the bottom of the rearview mirror.”
He opened the trunk and emptied it of their things, then unlocked the door to the house and ushered her in. They walked into the living room and she stopped, staring at the broad view of the spectacular sunset over the Pacific. “And I thought we had great sunsets in Santa Fe,” she said.
Teddy led her upstairs and put her suitcase in what had been his wife’s dressing room. The housekeeper had, on his instructions, removed her clothes and belongings from the dressing room, bedroom, and her bathroom, and she had done a good job. Her jewelry was in the safe in his dressing room.
“My goodness,” Sally said, “all this for one suitcase of jeans and shirts?”
“The shopping is very good in Malibu Village, and when you tire of them there’s always Rodeo Drive.” He went to his bedside table and found two pieces of mail—an envelope from his bank and another from American Express. He removed the Amex and Visa cards from the envelopes and handed them to her with a pen. “Sign the backs,” he said.
“Let me get this straight,” Sally said, “you’re turning me loose on Rodeo Drive with credit cards?”
“Use mine, not yours.”
“I only have a Mastercard, and I owe about two hundred bucks on it.”
“We’ll get a checking account working for you tomorrow, and you can pay that off and any other bills you may have outstanding. Do you have a mortgage on your house?”
“Yes, about ninety thousand.”
“Call the mortgage company, get the exact payoff amount, and send them a check, then you won’t have to worry about making payments.”
Sally sat down on the bed. “Whew! This is all happening very fast.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Teddy said, kissing her on the ear.
“What if I miss Santa Fe?”
“You can go back and visit anytime, and stay for as long as you like. Permanently, if you’re unhappy with me.”
“You’re very smart, Billy. The best way to keep me is to leave the door open.”
“Then I always will,” he said. “Have you thought any more about what you’d like to do out here?”
“Well, I want a job, if that’s what you mean. I’d go nuts sunning myself on the deck every day, though it’s a very nice deck.”
“Just remember it’s the Pacific out there, and it’s colder than it looks. Don’t go swimming without me.”
“Fear not.”
“Are you exhausted? If so, I’ll make us an omelet. We’ll go out, if you feel up to it.”
“Give me an hour’s nap and I’ll be ready to go out. Which is my side of the bed?”
“The one you’re sitting on. Excuse me, I have to unpack.” He grabbed his bags and went into his dressing room.
Sally stretched out on the bed and was asleep in seconds.
• • •
STONE’S PHONE RANG, and he picked it up. “Hello?”
“A Mr. and Mrs. Eagle at the front gate, in a hotel car,” a security guard said.
“Please send them up to the house.” Stone hung up and went to the bathroom door, where Ana was showering. “Ed and Susannah have landed, and they’re on their way to the house.”
“Sure you won’t join me in here?” she asked.
“Joining you would be fun, but later. They’re going to want a drink. We’ll see you downstairs when you’re dry.” He closed the door and went downstairs to greet his guests. Their driver and the butler took their cases upstairs, while Stone took Ed and Susannah into his study and poured everyone a drink. “Ana will be down shortly,” he said. “Well, maybe not shortly. I’m not yet accustomed to how long she takes to get presentable.”
“Not long,” Ana said from the doorway. “Can I have a drink, too?”
“Sit you down, and it will appear.”
Stone sat down opposite the Eagles. “Good flight?” He and Ed flew the same airplane.
“Very good,” Ed replied. “I’m going to miss Santa Monica Airport, if the fanatics ever actually get it closed.”
“They’re talking about shor
tening the runway to thirty-five hundred feet,” Stone said, “just to keep you and me out of there.” The Santa Monica City Council had been trying for years to close the airport.
“I can handle thirty-five hundred feet,” Ed said.
“Yeah, but if they do that, soon they won’t be selling jet fuel.”
“You have a point. I guess it’ll be Burbank if they win.”
“You know,” Stone said, “I could never understand why somebody would buy a house at the end of a runway, then complain about the noise.”
“Go figure,” Ed said. He shifted in his chair and changed the subject. “Have you heard about Teddy?” he asked.
“What is there to hear?”
“A couple of nights ago, Dax Baxter threw his wrap party for the cast and crew of his film, and Teddy showed up there.”
“And why not?” Stone asked.
“The rumor is, Dax thought Teddy was trying to kill him, so he brought in a heavyweight from L.A., a Russian named Kasov.”
“Never heard of him,” Stone said, “but I’ve had my own problems with Russians out here, though not for a couple of years.”
“Well, anyway, Susannah and I were out on the patio, admiring an Ostermiller bear, when Teddy came out with his girlfriend, just as we were going back inside. We saw this guy in a black hat go outside as we were entering the living room.”
“The Russian?”
“One and the same. Next thing you know, there was some sort of commotion out there, and Dax’s people blocked the doors to keep everybody inside. We heard later that Teddy had injured the guy, then left.”
“Then the Russian must have attacked him, and Teddy was prepared. He wouldn’t act without reason.”
“In any case, the guy ended up in surgery to repair the damage from a big cut to his leg.”
“Then he won’t be bothering Teddy for a while.”
“Not ever, if he’s smart.”
“Do you think Dax is done now?”
“Good question,” Ed said. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
22
TEDDY AND SALLY finished a good dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Malibu Village and drove back to the house. He let them in and showed her how the burglar alarm worked.