The sleek silver plane banked and swooped down onto the airstrip and rolled to a stop almost where the reporter was waiting. Dax climbed down from the cabin and walked over. “I’m Xenos,” he said, his white teeth flashing in his tanned face.
“Stillwell, Harper’s Bazaar,” the reporter replied. They shook hands. “I didn’t know whether your car would be at the airport. If it isn’t we can call a taxi.”
Dax smiled. “I called Sue Ann from the plane. The speedboat should be waiting for us at the dock at the end of the airport.”
Sue Ann waved at them from the cockpit. “Have a good flight?” she called. “I thought I’d come over and pick you up myself.”
“Pretty good.” Dax jumped easily down into the cockpit and kissed her. “This is Mr. Stillwell.”
“Hi. There are cold drinks on the bar.”
Sue Ann climbed up and expertly snapped off the bowline. Carefully she began to coil it around the small stanchion. Then she walked around and did the same for the stern line. “Sit down,” she said, going to the wheel, “we’re ready to go.” She pressed the ignition switch and the big motor started with a roar.
“Mr. Xenos,” the reporter shouted over the noise, “don’t you sometimes feel like a male Cinderella, being married to the richest girl in the world?”
Dax stared at him for a moment as if he could not believe his ears. Then his face darkened, and he walked over to him as the boat began slowly to move away from the dock. “Of all the stupid questions I’ve ever been asked,” he said angrily, “that’s the stupidest!” Then he picked up the reporter and, holding him out over the side of the boat, dropped him into the water.
The reporter thrashed about and yelled and finally began to swim back to the dock. He climbed up and stood there waving his arms at them.
“What on earth did you do that for?” Sue Ann asked.
“Did you hear the damn fool’s question?” Dax yelled, repeating it.
Sue Ann stared into his angry face and suddenly began to laugh. “I was wondering when it would get around to you. They’ve asked that of every one of my husbands!”
163
“Is it O.K. if I use the plane to go up to Atlanta today?”
Dax rolled over and looked up. Sue Ann was standing next to the bed, already fully dressed. “Sure,” he said sleepily, “want me to fly you up?”
“You don’t have to. Why the hell should you have to hang around all day waiting for me? I’ll get Bill Grady.”
Bill Grady was the man they hired to take care of the plane and act as copilot. A former airlines pilot who had retired because of his age, he welcomed the job.
“O.K.,” Dax said. He sat up in bed. “What do they want this time?”
“I don’t know,” Sue Ann answered vaguely. “I never know what they want. But they keep telling me that since I’m the principal stockholder I have to be there when certain decisions have to be made.”
“Pretty rough being rich,” Dax teased. “Some people think you have nothing to do but lie around and have a good time.”
“Go back to sleep.” Sue Ann stopped for a moment in the doorway. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
The door closed behind her and Dax reached for a cigarette. This was the fourth time in less than three weeks Sue Ann had gone to Atlanta. He lit the cigarette and leaned back against the pillow.
Whichever lawyer her father had hired to establish the trust had been very clever. Written into it was the proviso that Sue Ann had to appear in person at the company’s headquarters in Atlanta whenever summoned in order to maintain continuation of her equity. In that way her father had made sure of her presence in the country at least part of the time.
Dax ground out the cigarette and got out of bed. He went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Thoughtfully he rubbed the stubble of his beard. No need to shave today; there wouldn’t be anyone to see him. He reached for a pair of swim trunks.
Fat Cat was waiting on the terrace when he came up out of the water. “The two men el Presidente sent are here again.”
“What for?” Dax asked. “I gave them my answer. What I did in Monte Carlo was done only as a favor.”
Fat Cat shrugged. “They merely said it was important that they see you.”
Dax hesitated. “All right. Tell them I’ll see them as soon as I get dressed. Take them into the breakfast room.”
The two men stood up and bowed formally when he came into the room a little later. “Señor Xenos.”
“Señor Prieto. Señor Hoyos.” Dax returned their bow, speaking in Spanish. “Please be seated. Would you like some coffee?”
“Gracias.”
They sat there silently while Fat Cat filled their cups and went away. Dax noticed the service door was slightly ajar and smiled to himself. Fat Cat was up to his old tricks. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked politely.
The older man glanced at the other, then back at Dax. “El Presidente asked Señor Hoyos and myself to come here once more to try to prevail upon you to change your mind.”
“I see. You explained my position to el Presidente?”
“We have done so,” the younger man, Señor Hoyos, said quickly.
“Yes,” Prieto continued, “but his excellency says that such personal reasons cannot be allowed to interfere at a time like this. He asked us to explain again that Corteguay needs you. The bandoleros in the mountains are being welded together by Communists from the outside and unless steps are taken the country may soon be inundated by another bloody civil war. El Presidente is prepared to offer you the important post of ambassador at large, in addition to appointing you representative to the United Nations. He believes that only you can prevent the catastrophe that threatens our country.”
Dax studied the two of them. Silently he lifted his coffee cup, then slowly returned it to the saucer. “El Presidente is the only man who can prevent that,” he said quietly. “If he had given the people freedom to elect their own representatives, as he promised a long time ago, this might never have happened.”
“El Presidente has authorized us to tell you that elections will be held as soon as stability has returned to the country.”
“That is the same promise he made to my father almost thirty years ago.”
“It would be foolish to hold elections today, señor. The Communists would only take over without a struggle.” He glanced at his companion. “I agree with you, señor, that elections should have been held many years ago. But now they would only serve to retard the cause of freedom.”
Dax looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. In the time that has passed since el Presidente dismissed me from my country’s services I have managed to make a new life for myself. I feel it only justice that my wife and I continue it.”
“Your country is above all considerations, personal or otherwise,” Prieto answered quickly.
“My love of Corteguay is unchanged. I repeat that my reasons are personal.”
“In that case you leave us no alternative,” Hoyos said. “It is with the greatest personal regrets we must give you this.” He reached into his inside breast pocket.
Behind him Dax saw the serving door open. Fat Cat stared silently through it, a revolver in his hand. But at the same instant Hoyos’ hand emerged from his pocket with a white envelope. Dax nodded imperceptibly as Hoyos held it.
The door closed silently behind Fat Cat. Dax took the envelope. “What is this?”
“Open it and see.”
Dax ripped open the envelope and a number of contact photographs fell into his hand. There were about a dozen showing Sue Ann and another man in one frantic naked posture after another. He looked up.
“I am sorry, señor,” Hoyos said. Neither of the two men would meet his eyes. “They were taken in Atlanta just last week with an infrared camera. Apparently your wife does not have the same high regard for your marriage that you do.”
Dax looked down at the photographs again. For a moment he felt his a
nger rising, then it was gone as quickly as it came. He kept his face impassive as he spoke. “I am sorry, too, gentlemen. You have gone to all this trouble unnecessarily. My position remains unchanged.”
Hoyos started to speak but the older man silenced him. “We will be at our hotel in Miami until the weekend,” he said. “Should you change your mind, señor, call us there.”
They bowed as Fat Cat came into the room and ushered them to the door. Dax stared after them for a moment, then went over to the small desk in the corner and threw the envelope into it. Silently he locked the drawer and put the key in his pocket. He was still standing there when Fat Cat came back into the room.
“Some breakfast?”
Dax shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
Dax was sitting on the terrace watching the sun go down when the telephone call came. The maid brought out the phone and plugged it into the jack. He picked it up.
“Hello, darling?”
“Yes.”
“I’m terribly sorry, darling,” Sue Ann said breathlessly, “but something just came up at the last minute and I’ll have to stay over.”
“I’ll bet,” he said dryly.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow in time for dinner.”
“O.K.”
“Darling, what are you doing? You sound so distant.”
“I’m just sitting on the terrace. Perhaps I’ll go over to the club for dinner later.”
“Do that,” Sue Ann said, “it’s better than sitting around in that big dump all by yourself. Bye now.”
“Good-bye.” Dax stared down at the telephone for a moment, then went inside to get changed.
164
Dax was standing alone at the bar when Harry Owens came over. As usual he was half-drunk. “Dax, ol’ boy,” he said happily, slapping him on the shoulder. “What’re you doin’ here?”
Dax smiled. He liked Harry. Harry was a gentle harmless sort of drunk. “Sue Ann’s in Atlanta, so I thought I’d come over for dinner.”
“Wonderful. Then you can join me and Sam. Our cook just up and quit. Sam’ll be here in a minute. She stopped off you know where.” Harry turned to the bar and picked up the martini the bartender had automatically set before him. “Haven’t seen much of you lately, Dax.”
“I’ve been sort of laying around.”
“Laying around. That’s very good!” Harry chortled, emptying his drink and reaching for another without even looking to see if another was there. It was and he picked it up. “Know just what you mean.”
Simple Sam came up, her long red hair falling almost to her shoulders. “Dax.” She smiled. “Where’s Sue Ann?”
Harry answered before he could. “Dax is having dinner with us. Sue Ann’s in Atlanta.”
“Oh, lovely. I just ran into Mary Jane and asked her to join us. Ralph’s in Washington again.” Ralph was Mary Jane’s husband, a tax lawyer who spent most of his time away from home.
Simple Sam turned as Mary Jane came up to them. “I’ve managed to get you the most divine dinner date, darling!”
Mary Jane looked at Dax. “This is a surprise,” she said sarcastically. “Where’s Sue Ann?”
“In Atlanta.” Dax was getting tired of the question. It seemed to him that was all he had heard since he’d got to the club. “Shall we sit down? I’m hungry.”
By dessert time Harry could hardly manage to keep erect. Dax had already danced once with Simple Sam; now he got up to dance with Mary Jane. As they walked onto the floor the orchestra went into a samba. Mary Jane was surprisingly light on her feet.
“You do the samba very well.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Dax smiled. “Where I come from it’s almost our native dance. You’re very good too.”
Mary Jane looked up at him. “It’s rather a coincidence that you should come here the moment Sue Ann’s away.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” she said snidely. “I saw the way you were looking at Simple Sam.”
For no reason at all Dax felt himself growing annoyed. “There’s a lot to look at,” he said, knowing it would only infuriate Mary Jane more.
“You’d look at any woman who wore her dress cut down to her navel,” Mary Jane replied coldly.
Dax looked down at the small breasts pushing against her dress, then up at her face. “I don’t know. It would all depend.”
He felt her grow stiff in his arms and miss a step. “I think you deliberately planned the whole thing. So will Sue Ann when I tell her.”
“You do that. She’ll believe it about as much as she did the last lie you told her.”
Angrily Mary Jane pulled out of his arms and went back to the table. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll be going home.”
“So soon?” Simple Sam said, her quick eyes noting Mary Jane’s anger. “I thought we’d sit around and have a few drinks.”
“No, thanks.”
“I’ll drive you home,” Dax volunteered politely.
“Don’t bother,” she replied icily. “I have my own car.”
“Now what’s eating her?” Simple Sam asked, looking speculatively.
“She—”
“Don’t tell me now,” Sam said, placing a finger over his lips. “Tell me on the dance floor. You know how I love to rumba.”
She pressed herself into his arms, her body moving sensuously against him. He had never danced a rumba so closely to anyone before. The warmth from her body came through the thin dress. He felt the thrust of her hips writhing against his and without thinking he responded.
She looked up at him with a half-smile. “I was beginning to think all those stories I’d heard about you weren’t true.”
Dax returned her smile, holding her now so that she could not move away from him even if she had wanted to. “And I’m beginning to believe that all those stories I heard about you are.”
Sam looked up into his face. “Well, what are we going to do about it? Just talk?”
Dax glanced over his shoulder at their table. Harry was pouring himself another drink. “He’ll pass out in another few minutes,” she said callously.
“Then I’ll drive you both home.”
“No, I have a better idea. I’ll meet you down at your boathouse in about half an hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dax followed her back to the table and watched as she picked up her wrap and purse. “Come, Harry,” she said, turning to her husband, “it’s time for beddy-bye.”
Once he thought he heard a sound outside and he walked out on the deck and around the boathouse but there was no one there. He went back inside and looked at his watch. Almost an hour had passed. Perhaps Sam wasn’t coming. He went outside again and sat down on the bench looking out at the water. The yellow Florida moon danced on the waves. He lit a cigarette.
“Light one for me too.” Sam’s voice came from directly behind him.
Silently Dax gave her his cigarette and lit another for himself. “I was about to give you up.”
She smiled in the glow of the cigarette. “I had to get laughing boy into bed. Sometimes that’s not so easy.”
Dax turned as she crossed in front of him to the doorway. He heard the metallic slide of a zipper and by the time he looked up she was standing naked in the doorway. “Do all you Latin lovers talk so much?”
It was almost an hour later and they were lying on the huge couch smoking when the door opened. Dax sat up with a curse and Sam was grabbing for something to cover herself with when the light from the flashlight caught them.
Dax shielded his eyes with his arm, trying to see who was holding the light. He had just recognized Mary Jane when she spoke. “I suppose you still think I should believe that you met here by accident?”
“Don’t be a damn fool, Mary Jane,” he said harshly. “Put out that light before you wake the whole damn neighborhood.”
She laughed. “It would serve you bo
th right if I did.” She stared at them. “See if Sue Ann won’t believe this!”
“Put out that light,” he repeated, walking toward her.
Mary Jane backed away slightly, lowering the light. “My my!” She laughed mockingly. “It doesn’t look so big now, does it?” Then her voice faded as she kept backing away. She was still holding the light on him when her back came up against the wall and she could go no farther. Dax reached out and took the flashlight.
He threw it into a corner and pulled her away from the wall. “There’s only one thing that will satisfy you, isn’t there?” he asked angrily.
Mary Jane stared up into his face. Suddenly she began to twist in his grasp, her hands trying to beat at his face. “Let me go!”
Dax caught her hands and held them. With a sudden motion he ripped away her dress, exposing her small white breasts. He pushed her down on the floor and straddled her with both knees.
“Hold her hands!” he commanded Simple Sam harshly. “I know what she needs to keep her quiet!”
It was at breakfast two mornings later that the other photographs arrived. The envelope was addressed to Sue Ann. She opened it and the photographs spilled out onto the table. Sue Ann took one look at them and threw them angrily at Dax. “So this is what you do the moment my back is turned!”
He looked down at the photographs. There were all three of them. Simple Sam, Mary Jane, and himself. They were probably taken by the same camera. El Presidente hadn’t missed a trick.
Dax looked at Sue Ann. “Before you get too angry,” he said quietly, “perhaps you’d better take a look at these.”
Sue Ann watched him cross to the little desk and, taking the key from his pocket, open the drawer. He came back to her with an envelope very much like the one that lay before her. He shook the photographs out on the table in front of her.
Sue Ann picked them up and looked at them silently. Then she looked over at him and the anger had gone out of her face. “Touché. When did you get these?”
“The day you went to Atlanta and didn’t come home; the day before these were taken.”
Harold Robbins Thriller Collection Page 153
