shoulders.
“Come down for a rest, Mike boy,” Mike said wearily. “Just slop around in the sun.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are talking to me of course because I am gentle and honest and strong, and very attractive to young women. They are dazzled by the gleam of my very high forehead. It goes way back. And my athletic structure—just like Alfred Hitchcock’s. I’m a father image.”
“What?” Raines said blankly.
“I’m touched the way people up and tell me things. All my life people up and tell me things. Along comes some flack to my desk on the paper and tells me very confidential that Miss Bumpy Grind is staying at the West Hudson Hotel with a cheetah. With a gold collar. So I am very impressed, of course, and I am about to send over a throng of legmen, like covering an execution, when all of a sudden it begins to look to me like maybe he is talking to me because he has an angle.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Robert, one chugs along through life and maybe picks up one or two survival ideas here and there. I’ve got one. The bastards come at you from all directions, and there’s no wall to put your back against. There is a footnote to this one, at the bottom of the page, in six-point Caslon, saying everybody keeps his powder dry.”
“Mr. Rodenska, you sound as if you think I was trying to work… some kind of an angle. I’ve told you all this… I’ve been frank with you because—”
“I’m easy to talk to?”
“Because Troy is in a jam and—”
“You’d hate to see me lose my money because I’m such a nice guy. Naive, but nice. Thanks, Rob. Thanks a lot.”
“Are you a little tight, Mike?”
“I’m just down here for a rest.”
Rob stood up. He looked uncertain. “Well… I better see if I can find Debbie Ann.”
“You’re a lawyer. Lawyers have to maneuver people. I’ll give you a message. When anybody looks directly at me, right into my eyes, which isn’t normal, and doesn’t do any fidgeting, which again isn’t normal, and drops their voice level about a half octave and gets real grammatical, I just lay back and wait for them to bring out the three walnut shells and the rubber pea.”
“Mr. Rodenska, you don’t…”
“You go find Debbie Ann, and when you get a chance, you play poker. Play every night. Better stick to small stakes at first. They ought to teach it in every law school. You had a deuce down and an ace up, and you were convincing me you had aces back to back. Go find your girl.”
Raines hesitated, and then left quickly. He looked back once. His leaving had the flavor of flight. Mike spat the tip of a cigar over the railing and lighted it. He wondered how many cigars he had gone through during this long day. He felt vaguely guilty, and out of that guilt came the great seventh wave again, rolling his heart among the stones. There was no one to chide him about the cigars. No one to give a damn how many he smoked. Nobody to keep count and lecture him.
When Mary appeared below him and looked up at the porch and said, “Is that you, Mike?” he had to wait two long seconds before he could trust his voice and answer her.
She came up the steps and said, her voice too casual, “I just found out Troy was on Tim Gosnell’s boat for a long time. Tim says he was a little more sober when he left, so maybe he got home somehow. We might as well leave, if you’re ready. There’s always the chance he’s taking a nap in a dark corner somewhere, but I’m through looking. If so, he’ll wake up at daylight and walk home up the beach. It’s nearly five miles, but it won’t hurt him any.”
“I’m ready. How about your daughter?”
“She just left with Rob. There’s some sort of party down in Gulfway.”
They walked to the parking lot. She gave him the keys, a spare set she carried. He drove the Chrysler north, through the area near the public beach where the cars sat dark in starlight outside the silent motels, and where a few neoned beer
“Come down for a rest, Mike boy,” Mike said wearily. “Just slop around in the sun.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are talking to me of course because I am gentle and honest and strong, and very attractive to young women. They are dazzled by the gleam of my very high forehead. It goes way back. And my athletic structure—just like Alfred Hitchcock’s. I’m a father image.”
“What?” Raines said blankly.
“I’m touched the way people up and tell me things. All my life people up and tell me things. Along comes some flack to my desk on the paper and tells me very confidential that Miss Bumpy Grind is staying at the West Hudson Hotel with a cheetah. With a gold collar. So I am very impressed, of course, and I am about to send over a throng of legmen, like covering an execution, when all of a sudden it begins to look to me like maybe he is talking to me because he has an angle.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Robert, one chugs along through life and maybe picks up one or two survival ideas here and there. I’ve got one. The bastards come at you from all directions, and there’s no wall to put your back against. There is a footnote to this one, at the bottom of the page, in six-point Caslon, saying everybody keeps his powder dry.”
“Mr. Rodenska, you sound as if you think I was trying to work… some kind of an angle. I’ve told you all this… I’ve been frank with you because—”
“I’m easy to talk to?”
“Because Troy is in a jam and—”
“You’d hate to see me lose my money because I’m such a nice guy. Naive, but nice. Thanks, Rob. Thanks a lot.”
“Are you a little tight, Mike?”
“I’m just down here for a rest.”
Rob stood up. He looked uncertain. “Well… I better see if I can find Debbie Ann.”
“You’re a lawyer. Lawyers have to maneuver people. I’ll give you a message. When anybody looks directly at me, right into my eyes, which isn’t normal, and doesn’t do any fidgeting, which again isn’t normal, and drops their voice level about a half octave and gets real grammatical, I just lay back and wait for them to bring out the three walnut shells and the rubber pea.”
“Mr. Rodenska, you don’t…”
“You go find Debbie Ann, and when you get a chance, you play poker. Play every night. Better stick to small stakes at first. They ought to teach it in every law school. You had a deuce down and an ace up, and you were convincing me you had aces back to back. Go find your girl.”
Raines hesitated, and then left quickly. He looked back once. His leaving had the flavor of flight. Mike spat the tip of a cigar over the railing and lighted it. He wondered how many cigars he had gone through during this long day. He felt vaguely guilty, and out of that guilt came the great seventh wave again, rolling his heart among the stones. There was no one to chide him about the cigars. No one to give a damn how many he smoked. Nobody to keep count and lecture him.
When Mary appeared below him and looked up at the porch and said, “Is that you, Mike?” he had to wait two long seconds before he could trust his voice and answer her.
She came up the steps and said, her voice too casual, “I just found out Troy was on Tim Gosnell’s boat for a long time. Tim says he was a little more sober when he left, so maybe he got home somehow. We might as well leave, if you’re ready. There’s always the chance he’s taking a nap in a dark corner somewhere, but I’m through looking. If so, he’ll wake up at daylight and walk home up the beach. It’s nearly five miles, but it won’t hurt him any.”
“I’m ready. How about your daughter?”
“She just left with Rob. There’s some sort of party down in Gulfway.”
They walked to the parking lot. She gave him the keys, a spare set she carried. He drove the Chrysler north, through the area near the public beach where the cars sat dark in starlight outside the silent motels, and where a few neoned beer
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