Free Heaven Is High by Kate Wilhelm Page B

smile. Probably mid-fifties, she guessed. Presumptuous, but not aggressively forward, and meanwhile he seemed to know the menu, and he certainly knew the waiter. Henry was laughing quietly with a chagrined expression, waiting for her decision.
    â€œI’ll have what the gentleman suggested,” she said. “Thank you,” she added, nodding at the man still standing by her table.
    â€œMay I join you?” he asked. “Share a bottle of wine?”
    Her hesitation was brief. “Of course,” she said.
    â€œGood. And, Henry, a platter of sizzling shrimp and empanadas.”
    Barbara picked up the short bar menu, which did not include shrimp.
    â€œHe can see that it happens,” her companion said lightly. “Can’t you, Henry?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Henry said. “Will there be anything else?”
    Barbara shook her head, and so did her new companion.
    â€œGabe Newhouse,” he said, extending his hand. “Fellow American.”
    She said her name and shook his hand.
    â€œNow we’re officially introduced,” Newhouse said. “Excuse me a second, I left a few things on my table.” He went to the other table and returned with some pieces of mail that he put down before pulling out a chair and sitting to the right of her, in such a way that they could both look out over the waterfront.
    â€œYou live here?” Barbara asked, nodding toward the mail.
    â€œNo. Just a mail drop. Actually I live out there.” He pointed to the bay. “Third boat from the left.” The boat he pointed to was a yacht at anchor. “I make it a point to put in here frequently to pick up mail, provision the boat, buy a book or two, just spend a little time on land to remind myself why I prefer to be out there. If I ever decide I want to be a landlubber again, someplace like Belize would be my first choice, however. Quiet, laid-back, not overrun by tourists or gambling casinos. One major drawback. It’s hurricane-prone. And the bouncing broncos most likely will eradicate the other attractions, if they have their way.”
    â€œThat’s too fast for me,” Barbara said in protest. “What are the bouncing broncos?”
    Henry arrived then with a wine bucket and opened the wine. He offered Newhouse a sample for his approval, poured for them both. “The shrimp will be along in a minute or two,” he said.
    â€œThe broncos are one of the reasons I’ve delayed my departure past time,” Newhouse said. “That and provisioning the boat. Who was it who said she wasn’t ready to die yet because she wanted to see how it all came out? Tallulah Bankhead? Dorothy Parker? I forget. The broncos are very enthusiastic young men with too much time on their hands, and with very rich daddies. At least two of them qualify as such. The third one is a working stiff, a photographer they hired. They have an agenda to develop one of the offshore islands as a tourist destination playland, a water wonder world. That’s the first delaying playlet.
    â€œAlso,” he continued, “there’s an amusing little scandal going on, involving a government official, his mistress, his wife, and a former mistress who is demanding money she claims he promised her. Every day I change my mind about who will win that one.
    â€œAnd finally, there’s a real Shakespearean drama coming to a head soon. I want to see how they all end.”
    â€œOh, my,” Barbara said. “I understand about the development. California, here we come. And lovers and philandering government officials hardly even make the tabloids any longer. But what drama?”
    â€œIt has all the right elements for great drama,” Newhouse said. “Brothers who were bitter enemies until one was murdered. Gunned down on the road on his way home. A fortune in land and holdings of various sorts. A beautiful princess. Her uncle has seized the property to which she is the legitimate