Part 5 (2/2)
”Goodby.”
I walked the hundred feet to the entrance to the path. When I turned and looked back at her, she shook her fist at me and yelled, ”You ask that Patty M'Gruder why she kept locking me up! You just ask that G.o.ddam b.i.t.c.h!”
Halfway back to the compound I stopped in the path and leaned against a tree. My knees felt strange. I lit a cigarette, took one drag and threw it away. Stan Burley was in the small office talking to Dana. He got up and brought me some iced tea and said, ”How did it go?”
”I don't know. Her memory was pretty good. It d.a.m.ned near broke my heart listening to her trying to call him father. What's the matter with that son of a b.i.t.c.h? He threw her away. He threw away a pretty good person, I think.”
”Was she any help?”
”I don't know. I have to check it out. Stan, she made a h.e.l.l of a direct pa.s.s at me.”
He raised his ridged monkey brows. ”Little early for that. I'll start keeping a close watch on her. Thanks.”
”What's the prognosis?”
He wiped his hand across his face. ”I don't know. The highs don't seem to get any higher, but the periods of apathy seem deeper and seem to last a little longer. And when she comes up out of them I have the feeling... there's a little less of her. She's lost some songs she knew a month ago. She's getting a little more awkward and untidy feeding herself and caring for herself. I... I guess we'll keep her here as long as we can. She loves the beach so. She hates to be locked in. This place has the illusion of freedom. Maybe a big inst.i.tution could arrest it, even improve her a little, but never enough to let her out into the world. She isn't dangerous to anyone. She's a victim. He made her a victim.”
”What happened to her mother?”
”She died in a hotel fire when Nancy was seven. She was with a lover at the time. Nancy has a strong body. I am afraid it will keep going long after the brain is gone. Maybe for an other forty years or more. There is a brother. Older, and from all reports, extremely righteous. Nice to see you again, Trav. Nice to talk to you, Miss Holtzer. It's a strange world, you know. We can defend ourselves from our enemies, and even from our friends, but never from our family. That tyke was sent to boarding school at age seven. She had lovers at fourteen, alcoholic dementia in a mild form at fifteen, and her first shock treatments at sixteen. I am off to paint chairs. My cure for depression and indignation. Come by any time, either of you.”
We stopped at a fish house in town for lunch. We had the privacy of a corner booth. I told her about the dead one. Sonny Catton. I told her about the eight pictures, the slap, the hostility toward the M'Gruders, her final strange comment.
”From the way you look it was rough, Travis.”
”I guess so. I don't know why it rocked me so. I guess because she looks so fresh and clean and bright. I guess a man gets the feeling... a lovely mixed-up girl, if you could take her along, love her, treat her well, she'd shape up. But you know you can't. Maybe the last one to be in a position to do anything was Catton, but he wasn't the type for it. I guess she got handed around quite a bit, with none of them doing her much good.”
I told her about Carl Abelle. The corners of her strong mouth turned downward in an ironic smile. ”The Galahad of the slopes. I met him once. I'd been working for her just a matter of weeks. It was quite a while later they went off to stay in that Chipmann house. He was pretty gorgeous. Dark blond curly hair, huge shoulders, bronzed face, custom sports coat, silk ascot, and a little faky German accent. Hair a little much over the ears. You know. A little wave there too. Lots of huge white teeth, and a very Continental handshake. The almost too typical Hollywood stud.”
”Smart enough to rig a blackmail thing on Lee?”
”Oh, I doubt it. I doubt it very much. It couldn't have been his idea in any case. Somebody could have bullied him into it. I think he would shatter quite easily under pressure. Only a d.a.m.n fool would have tried to use him that way. He would crack too easily. And it wasn't a fool who arranged it all.”
”Have any ideas?”
”Who there had money or reputation or something to lose? Lee, and the architect's daughter, and the M'Gruders. Ca.s.s apparently, and Sonny and Whippy and the college boys and Carl would be very small fry, not worth the effort compared to the others.”
”Agreed. Keep going.”
She shrugged. ”There's nowhere else to go. We know that two out of the three were contacted. Lee paid off. Mr. Abbott apparently didn't. And we'll know about the M'Gruders later on. We should go to San Francisco, I imagine. After Abelle or before?”
”After.”
”Tomorrow?” I nodded. She slid out of the booth. ”I'd better do some phoning right now then.” She walked to the cas.h.i.+er for change.
When we got back to the boat, Dana checked her copy of Lysa Dean's promo schedule and found that Lysa would be starting a rest hour in about another fifteen minutes. She waited twenty minutes and phoned her on a private line that did not go through the hotel board. They talked together for about fifteen minutes. Then Dana called to me, holding the phone with her palm over the mouthpiece.
”She wants to talk to you. I've caught her up to date on all of it.”
When I spoke to her, Lee said in a lazy drawl, ”Sweetie, how do you like the little giftie I sent you?”
”I beg your pardon?”
”The highly efficient tragic figger, stupid.”
”Oh fine, just fine.”
”She'll keep you honest and keep you scrambling, dear. I miss her already. Little things are starting to get fouled up. So don't keep her too long.”
”I didn't make any request, you know.”
”Oh, don't be stuffy! And by the way, McGee, don't waste your time in any idle hopes. She's quite something in a sort of swarthy hearty way. The look of banked fires or something. Some of the greatest experts in the industry have taken their Sunday hack at that, dear, and wandered gla.s.sily away with icicles forming on their whatsis. It is sort of an in-group joke.”
”I'm laughing myself sick.”
”You are really a wretched chap, aren't you? Why do I still like you? I understand the Abbot girl is out of the ball park.”
”Did she seem odd to you at the time?”
”Not particularly. She kept belting herself pretty good, so who expected too much sense? And she was pretty rowdy now and again. Roughhousing into other people's little games. She kept talking about her dear daddy. And singing that song at very strange moments. My Heart Belongs to and so forth. When you see Carl, dear, grasp his hand, smile, give him my love, and kick him solidly in the jewels. I would pay a small bonus for that.”
”Just one thing. Is that little accent of his genuine?”
”G.o.d, no! It's for the ski trade.”
”Are you getting good protection?”
”So far it looks fine. Take care of yourself. Dana will keep me informed.”
”Want to speak to her again?”
”Goodby and love to you both. Happy hunting.”
I hung up and said, ”You plan to keep her informed?”
She had taken the check book from the desk drawer to post the cash deposit she had made. She looked over at me, one dark eyebrow lifting slightly. ”In that business, she's so used to intrigue. Everybody watches everybody. And if you work for somebody you have to be at a certain established level, a pecking order. She's just trying to fit you into the ranks, Travis, somewhere between a script writer and an a.s.sociate producer. She doesn't know it won't work, but there's no point in... in making a point of it. I'll tell her what she should know, and enough to keep her happy, and no more or less than that. Ok?”
”Divided loyalty?”
”Not really. You are both after the same thing, aren't you?”
”Should that be a question?”
”Mr. Burley told me about a girl named Marianne. I don't have as many questions about you as I used to.”
”I'm reasonably honest, Dana, in my own way. That's about as far as I can go with it. Maybe I have a price. n.o.body's come up with just the right amount yet. But maybe next time. Let's see how quick you can get us out of here, Efficient Girl.”
<script>