Free All These Condemned by John D. MacDonald Page A

back into the fold. And I wished that I had never clambered into that nine-foot bed of hers, because all it had done was use up a weapon that might have come in handy this week end. Wilma is the sort you do not gain ascendancy over by pouncing on. Her only involvement, ept though it may be, is physical. All you lose is your dignity, and all you gain is the responsibility of coming on the run should she crook her finger again. Much the same loss that Dotty had suffered with me.
    I ate a late lunch on the road, a heavy lunch to put a good base under the drinks that would be flowing. I arrived a bit early and thought I might be the first. But the Hesses’ car was there, between Wilma’s and the station wagon. Just as I got out of my car, Judy Jonah came boiling down the drive in that Jag of hers. She swung in beside me.
    She got out of the car and put her fists on her hips and stared at the house. “Wow!” she said.
    “First time you’ve seen it?”
    “Uh-huh. Looks edible, doesn’t it? How are you doing, Steve?”
    “Medium. Did Willy say anything to you yet about that Millison thing?”
    “It sounds great,” she said with a look of disgust. “He’ll have something real gay lined up. Like catching a custard pie in the puss. Something subtle like that.”
    “A thousand-dollar pie, my lamb.”
    “Not by the time I get it, it isn’t.”
    “He’s a replacement. They’ve got the hell budgeted out of him. That’s all he can do.”
    José carne out to get our luggage. For once he seemed almost mildly glad to see me.
    “Don’t think I’m not grateful, Steve. Willy told me that you found out about it and sicked him onto it.” She smiled at me but there was a little bit of frost behind it. We used to get along a lot better. And then I made a mistake. One of those things. It wasn’t even very important to me. All she had to do was say no. But she said no and, at the same time, gave me a wicked smack across the mouth. It cut my lip and I came within a tenth of a second of really hanging one on her, I was so mad. She told me she would stay on as a client merely because she thought I knew my business, but my professional services were the only ones she required, or would ever require. Hence the little suggestion of coolness.
    “Where is Willy, by the way? Come on, we go around this way.”
    “Absent by request. Wilma says this is social.”
    “Wilma says.”
    She gave me an oblique look, a quick flash of those expressive blue eyes. “I should have at least brought a writer, I guess.”
    “I’ll feed you some lines.”
    “Brother, this is really a place.”
    Wilma and the Hesses and Gilman Hayes were on the big terrace just outside the lounge. Hayes was dressed for the water, standing, talking to them, and I wondered why he didn’t have spangles on his trunks. He said hello to Judy in a bored way and gave me the shallowest possible nod. Wilma did her normal amount of gushing. Randy gave me a nervous cold hand and Noel smiled. Judy was in a rush to get her suit on while there was still sunshine. I was in a rush toget Randy off in a corner somehow, but I couldn’t be obvious about it. Wilma said she’d given me the same room as last time. I told José what I wanted as soon as he came out to the terrace bar again. Hayes went down the steps and out onto the big dock. I hate the big arrogant muscular son-of-a-bitch. I made him and I hate him. I would like to unmake him. Do a reverse PR job on him. But he’s Wilma’s playmate, and if I want to cut my throat I can borrow a straight razor someplace.
    Judy came hurrying out in her yalla swimsuit and went running down and out the left-hand side of the dock and off in a flat dive. The next time I looked down they were both spread out in the late sun. I didn’t get my chance to cut Randy out of the herd until after the Dockertys arrived and Wilma took them in to show them their room.
    “Let’s take us a walk, kid,” I said to Randy.
    He looked uneasy, “Sure,