to be flown down from Racine. It blew yesterday. Made a noise like a gigantic fart. My dear little captain will not proceed without it. Some sort of fetish, no doubt. It is going to shorten our little cruise, maybe down to no cruise at all. But what the hell. Lovely place here. Not a trace of mal de mer. Of course, it does work out a bit more pricey than a hotel suite. But the two dear little papers I added to the chain last year are churning out money you wouldn't believe. It's almost vulgar what you can make these days out of a monopoly morning paper in a city of forty thousand people, after you really get into automation and electronics and all."
"Jay Gould would have loved her," Meyer said.
"Too," she said. "My taste would have run more to Diamond Jim Brady. Or John Ringling."
"How did you make out?" Meyer asked me.
"The doctor arrived," I said. "With new bride. Blond. With a fantastic pelvis."
Meyer looked startled and then amused. "Not according to Anne's plan at all. So you were the catcher in the awry."
"Please!" Aggie said. "Not when I'm thinking of eating. I'll go down and make sure they are fixing enough for three."
"I can't stay, Aggie. Really."
"Nonsense, dear boy. I would really resent it if you left. Today we are eating Greek. With the feta cheese, the moussaka, the grape leaves, and all. And they always fix tons, so there'll be enough for them too."
She went off belowdecks. I said, "That has really turned into some kind of special lady."
"Always was, had you but the eyes. How is Anne?"
"Recovering from the shock. She really runs one of the better places around. Anyway, I can give you a very quick rundown of the facts and hunches so far. Ellis was hurting badly, refused to admit it. The doctor tried to talk him into one of the hallucinogens to moderate pain. Good chance pain was getting worse. Ellis set up some kind of contact. They called back with a time and place for the meet. He went up there with a batch of Krugerrands to pay for his hash or fix or whatever. Traces found of a heavy motorcycle in the shrubbery. Possibility that the vendor, confronted with an elderly fellow, decided to keep the product and the money both. Or perhaps it was a scam from the beginning. Come to the place alone, Dads. Or no sale. Knowing there would be no sale anyway. Oh, one more thing, which may or may not fit: Josie's boyfriend, since the separation, is one Peter Kesner, weird cinematic genius who made two motorcycle movies on small budgets and got a big reputation. I mention it only because motorcycles have started cropping up. I thought I might go see my friend Blaylock about people who peddle from their bikes. I mean, if it's a common practice or what. I can see the advantages. Nares can stake out street corners, but they can't stake out the countryside."
"Why so far upstate?" Meyer asked.
"That's a question for Blaylock. It might be a territorial thing."
Aggie came back up and said it would be twenty minutes. We fixed another drink from the little rolling bar. It was nice under the awning, watching the pedestrian traffic, laughing at bad puns.
We went below and ate in the alcove off the main lounge, served there by a very skilled Cuban lad. A slightly resinous wine went beautifully with the mountains of Greek groceries. I left in good season, full of resolve. But once I was aboard my houseboat, my knees began to buckle. I nearly dislocated my jaw yawning. I stripped down and fell into my gigantic bed.
The rattlesnake buzz of the bedside phone awakened me and I groped for the phone in the dark, wondering how it had gotten to be night.
"Uh?" I said.
"Well, hi! Were you asleep?"
"Certainly was. What time is it?"
"Little after nine. Missed you, love."
"Me too."
Page 29
"Wondered if you made it back okay. Tell you the truth, I found time for a little nap today myself."
"Good for you."
"I know you will be as upset as I am to know that the bride picked up another dreadful sunburn this morning and is in
Chelsea Camaron, Mj Fields