She is. But maybe he is, too.” I hesitated, then decided to tell her what had been worrying me. “Do you remember hearing or reading about the woman who was murdered a few days ago?”
“Yes,” she said, her mahogany skin growing suddenly pale. “It was just awful. She had had her . . . ”
“Throat cut,” I finished. “She was the friend of a friend of mine. He says she wasn’t involved with Sir Conan. I’m beginning to suspect otherwise.”
“But Jimmy . . . Jimmy is no murderer!”
“You don’t know that, Dia. How long did you say you’ve known him? Only a few months?”
She nodded.
“Was he ever . . . unusually rough with you? Did he ever seem to enjoy hurting you?”
“Dusky, that’s very embarrassing . . . me telling you about the way it was with him.”
I put my arm around her. “I know. But believe me when I say it doesn’t matter. I need to know.”
She thought for a moment. “There were times when he seemed to go a bit far. But I . . . I . . . ” She turned her head away from me. “You know, I rather like it that way sometimes.”
“No, Dia. There’s fun. And then there’s cruelty.”
She wiped at her forehead. “Now that I think about it, it seems he had been getting a little more extreme—but only lately. I had to ask him to be gentler a few times. And then the way he talked to me the other night while you were here. That seemed very unlike him.” She looked at me quickly. “But Dusky! You don’t really think Jimmy killed that poor woman, do you?”
“The police have no suspects, Dia. He’s the only one who even comes close.”
“But what could that possibly have to do with the kidnapping?”
“I don’t know. Nothing is making any sense. I do know that under no circumstances should you let Sir James into your apartment again. Understand?”
She nodded, close to tears. “To think . . . ”
“Do you have a weapon? A gun around the apartment?”
“Why, no. I’ve always hated the things. Don’t even know how to operate one.”
I went outside to the Fiat and got the Walther O’Davis had given me. With the clip out, I showed her how to use it. I made her fire a dozen dry rounds. Then I demonstrated how to arm it.
And when I stood to leave, she fell into my arms. “Dusky, stay. Please stay. I’m so frightened. . . . ”
I kissed her softly on the forehead. “I can’t. Not tonight.”
She wrapped her small hands in my hair and pulled my face down to hers. Her lips parted, tongue searching, delicately exploring.
“I need you,” she whispered.
The buttons of her blouse strained as my right hand moved up her ribs, cupping the weight of her.
“But I can’t.”
Her hands began to move. There was the slow metallic sound of a zipper.
“I won’t keep you. Not for long. If you say you have business, I believe you. And if you say you escaped Lady James, I believe that too.” She moaned softly. “Why is it I believe everything you say?”
My left hand stroked her hair. I turned my wrist and checked the Rolex. It was ten twenty-three. I was supposed to meet O’Davis at eleven.
“Must be my honest face.”
She tugged at my belt, and the khaki pants began to slide toward the floor.
“Oh,” she whispered, “look what’s happening.”
“I have to leave in a half hour. I mean that. No matter what.”
“Then we had better hurry, Dusky darling,” she said huskily. “I moved some cushions out onto the patio. There’s a party going on down in the harbor, and we’ll be able to see the lights and hear the music from the patio. Hurry, Dusky. Please. We don’t have much time. . . . ”
10
As planned, I met the Irishman in Hell.
But despite my promise, I was twenty minutes late. Diacona Ebanks had a way of making you forget time. With boat lights throwing yellow paths across the night harbor, we had joined again in a frenzy of love and wanting. She was the best of lovers: a woman whose reserve fell away with her clothes.
“Oh, Dusky, that was
“Yes,” she said, her mahogany skin growing suddenly pale. “It was just awful. She had had her . . . ”
“Throat cut,” I finished. “She was the friend of a friend of mine. He says she wasn’t involved with Sir Conan. I’m beginning to suspect otherwise.”
“But Jimmy . . . Jimmy is no murderer!”
“You don’t know that, Dia. How long did you say you’ve known him? Only a few months?”
She nodded.
“Was he ever . . . unusually rough with you? Did he ever seem to enjoy hurting you?”
“Dusky, that’s very embarrassing . . . me telling you about the way it was with him.”
I put my arm around her. “I know. But believe me when I say it doesn’t matter. I need to know.”
She thought for a moment. “There were times when he seemed to go a bit far. But I . . . I . . . ” She turned her head away from me. “You know, I rather like it that way sometimes.”
“No, Dia. There’s fun. And then there’s cruelty.”
She wiped at her forehead. “Now that I think about it, it seems he had been getting a little more extreme—but only lately. I had to ask him to be gentler a few times. And then the way he talked to me the other night while you were here. That seemed very unlike him.” She looked at me quickly. “But Dusky! You don’t really think Jimmy killed that poor woman, do you?”
“The police have no suspects, Dia. He’s the only one who even comes close.”
“But what could that possibly have to do with the kidnapping?”
“I don’t know. Nothing is making any sense. I do know that under no circumstances should you let Sir James into your apartment again. Understand?”
She nodded, close to tears. “To think . . . ”
“Do you have a weapon? A gun around the apartment?”
“Why, no. I’ve always hated the things. Don’t even know how to operate one.”
I went outside to the Fiat and got the Walther O’Davis had given me. With the clip out, I showed her how to use it. I made her fire a dozen dry rounds. Then I demonstrated how to arm it.
And when I stood to leave, she fell into my arms. “Dusky, stay. Please stay. I’m so frightened. . . . ”
I kissed her softly on the forehead. “I can’t. Not tonight.”
She wrapped her small hands in my hair and pulled my face down to hers. Her lips parted, tongue searching, delicately exploring.
“I need you,” she whispered.
The buttons of her blouse strained as my right hand moved up her ribs, cupping the weight of her.
“But I can’t.”
Her hands began to move. There was the slow metallic sound of a zipper.
“I won’t keep you. Not for long. If you say you have business, I believe you. And if you say you escaped Lady James, I believe that too.” She moaned softly. “Why is it I believe everything you say?”
My left hand stroked her hair. I turned my wrist and checked the Rolex. It was ten twenty-three. I was supposed to meet O’Davis at eleven.
“Must be my honest face.”
She tugged at my belt, and the khaki pants began to slide toward the floor.
“Oh,” she whispered, “look what’s happening.”
“I have to leave in a half hour. I mean that. No matter what.”
“Then we had better hurry, Dusky darling,” she said huskily. “I moved some cushions out onto the patio. There’s a party going on down in the harbor, and we’ll be able to see the lights and hear the music from the patio. Hurry, Dusky. Please. We don’t have much time. . . . ”
10
As planned, I met the Irishman in Hell.
But despite my promise, I was twenty minutes late. Diacona Ebanks had a way of making you forget time. With boat lights throwing yellow paths across the night harbor, we had joined again in a frenzy of love and wanting. She was the best of lovers: a woman whose reserve fell away with her clothes.
“Oh, Dusky, that was
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