Then there was the night he’d invited me to his house for dinner—all that food and those hors d’oeuvres—keeping me there long enough for Solarin to slip into my apartment and leave that note! It was Harry who, very casually at that same dinner, had let his maid Valerie know I was headed for Algiers—Valerie, whose own mother was Therese, the telephone operator who’d worked for Kamel’s father in Algiers; whose little brother Wahad lived in the Casbah and guarded the Black Queen!
It was Harry Saul had double-crossed by working for Blanche and Llewellyn. And maybe also Harry who’d dumped Saul’s body in the East River so it looked like a simple mugging—perhaps not just to deceive the police, but to fool his own in-laws, too!
It was Harry, not Mordecai, who’d sent Lily to Algiers. Once he learned she’d been at that chess match, she was in danger not only from Hermanold—who was probably just a pawn—but from her own mother and uncle!
But finally, it was Harry who’d married Blanche—the White Queen—just as Mireille had persuaded Talleyrand to marry the Woman from India. But Talleyrand was only a Bishop!
“Harry,” I said in shock, “you’re the Black King!”
“Darling,” he said placatingly over the line. I could almost see his droopy St. Bernard’s face, his sad eyes. “Forgive me for keeping you in the dark like this. But now you understand the situation. If Lily’s not with you …”
“I’ll call you back,” I told him. “I have to get off the phone.”
I hung up and grabbed Nim, who was standing beside me, an expression of real fear on his face. “Dial your computer,” I snapped. “I think I know where she went—but she said she’d leave a message if anything went wrong. I hope she hasn’t done something rash.”
Nim dialed the number, slapping on the modem switch when he got the connection. I clung to the receiver and in a few moments got the digitally reproduced voice of Lily provided by modern technology.
“I’m at the Palm Court at the Plaza.” It was my imagination, but I thought I could hear the binary reproduction shaking like a real voice. “I went to my place to pick up the car keys we keep in that secretary in the living room. But my God—” The voice broke off. I could sense panic coming through the line. “You know that hideous lacquered desk of Llewellyn’s with the brass handles? They’re not brass knobs—those are the pieces! Six of them, embedded in the cabinet. The bases project like knobs, but the pieces themselves—the top parts—are built into false panels in the drawers! Those drawers are always jammed, but I never thought—So I used a letter knife to open one, then got a hammer from the kitchen and smashed the panel apart. I got two pieces out, then I heard someone coming into the apartment. So I ran out the back and took the service elevator. My God, you’ve got to come at once. I can’t go back there alone.…”
She hung up with a click. I waited for another message, but there wasn’t any, so I threw the phone down.
“We’ve got to go,” I told Nim and Solarin, who stood there anxiously. “I’ll explain on the way.”
“What about Harry?” said Nim as I stuffed Minnie’s unread letter in my pocket and raced over to grab the pieces.
“I’ll call him and tell him to meet us at the Plaza,” I said. “You get the car started. Lily’s found another cache of pieces.”
It seemed like forever, slaloming along freeways and barreling through Manhattan traffic, before Nim’s green Morgan screeched up in front of the Plaza, startling the pigeons that scattered in our path. I ran inside and searched the Palm Court, but Lily wasn’t there. Harry had said he’d wait for us, but no one was in sight—I even checked the powder room.
I went running back outside, waving my arms, and jumped into the car.
“Something’s wrong,” I told the two of them. “The only reason Harry wouldn’t have waited is if Lily wasn’t here.”
“Or someone else was,” muttered Nim. “Someone was coming into the apartment just as she fled. They’d have seen she discovered the pieces, maybe they trailed her. They’d surely have left a greeting committee for Harry.…” He revved the engine in frustration. “Where would they go first—Mordecai’s for the other nine pieces? Or the apartment?”
“Let’s try the apartment,” I urged. “It’s closer. Besides, when I spoke to Harry before we left, I found I could set up a little greeting committee of my own.” Nim looked at me in surprise. “Kamel Kader’s in town,” I said. Solarin squeezed my shoulder.
We all knew what it meant. Nine pieces at Mordecai’s, the eight in my bag, and the six Lily said she’d seen at the apartment. That was enough to control the Game—and maybe to decipher the formula as well. Whoever won this round would have it cinched.
Nim pulled up before the apartment, jumped over the side, and tossed his keys to the astonished doorman. The three of us barreled inside without a word. I pushed the button for the elevator. The doorman was running after us.
“Has Mr. Rad come in yet?” I called over my shoulder as the doors swished open.
The doorman looked at me in surprise, then nodded.
“About ten minutes ago,” he said. “With his brother-in-law.…”
That did it. We jumped into the elevator before he could speak further and were about to start up when something caught the corner of my eye. I put my hand out fast and stopped the doors. A little ball of fluff came barreling in. As I bent over to pick it up, I saw Lily plowing just behind across the lobby. I grabbed her and dragged her in. The doors closed, and we started up.
“They didn’t get you!” I cried.
“No, but they got Harry,” she said. “I was afraid to stay at the Palm Court, so I went outside with Carioca and waited near the park across the street. Harry was an idiot—he left his car at the apartment and walked down here to find me. It was him they followed, not me. I saw Llewellyn and Hermanold just behind him. They went right past me—looked right through me. They didn’t recognize me!” she said in amazement. “I had Carioca stuffed in my bag with the two pieces I got. They’re here.” She patted her bag. My God, we were walking into this with all our ammunition. “I followed them back here and stayed across the street, not knowing what to do when they took him inside. Llewellyn was so close to Harry—maybe he had a gun.”
The doors swished open, and we went down the hall, Carioca first. Lily was pulling out her key when the door opened and Blanche stood there in a shimmering white cocktail dress, still wearing that cool blond smile. She was holding a glass of champagne.
“Well, here we are—all together,” she said smoothly, offering me her porcelain cheek to be pecked. I ignored it, so she turned to Lily. “Pick up that dog and put him in the study,” she said coldly. “I think we’ve had enough incidents for one day.”
“Just a minute,” I said as Lily bent to pick up her dog. “We’re not here for cocktails. What have you done with Harry?” I brushed past Blanche into the apartment I hadn’t seen in six months. It hadn’t changed, but now I saw it differently—the marble floor of the foyer laid out in checkered squares. The end game, I thought.
“He’s fine,” Blanche said, following me toward the wide marble steps that led down to the living room as Solarin, Nim, and Lily trooped in behind. Across the room Llewellyn knelt beside the lacquered red secretary, pulling apart the drawers Lily hadn’t gotten to, extracting the remaining four pieces. There were chunks of wood lying all over the floor. He looked up as I crossed the vast room.
“Hello, my darling,” said Llewellyn, rising to greet me. “I’m delighted to hear you got the pieces as I asked—only you haven’t played the Game quite as one might have hoped. I understand you’ve switched sides. How sad. And I’d always been so fond of you.”
“I was never on your side, Llewellyn,” I said in disgust. “I want to see Harry. You’re not leaving until I do. I know Hermanold’s here, but we still outnumber you.
“Not really,” said Blanche from the far side of the room, pouring herself more champagne. She tossed a glance at Lily, who was glaring at her, Carioca in
her arms, then she came over to regard me with cold blue eyes. “There are a few friends of yours in the back—Mister Brodski of the KGB, who works in fact for me. And Sharrif—whom El-Marad was kind enough to fly over at my behest. They’ve been waiting ever so long for you to arrive here from Algiers, watching the house night and day. It seems you took the scenic route.”
I shot a glance at Solarin and Nim. We should have expected something like this.
“What have you done with my father?” yelled Lily, coming up to Blanche with gritted teeth as Carioca growled at Llewellyn from his perch in her arms.
“He’s tied up in a back room,” Blanche said, toying with her ever-present strands of pearls. “He’s perfectly safe, and will remain so if you all just listen to reason. I want the pieces. There’s been enough violence—I’m sure we’re all weary of it. Nothing will happen to anyone, if you just turn over the pieces to me.”
Llewellyn extracted a gun from his jacket. “Not quite enough violence for me,” he said calmly. “Why don’t you let that little monster loose so I can do what I’ve always wished?”
Lily glared at him in horror. I put my hand on her arm as I glanced at Nim and Solarin, who’d moved out toward the walls in preparation. I thought I’d wasted enough time—my pieces were all in place.
“You obviously haven’t been following the Game too closely,” I told Blanche. “I have nineteen pieces. With the four you’re about to give me, that makes twenty-three—enough to solve the formula and win.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Nim smiling and nodding at me from across the room. Blanche stared at me in disbelief.
“You must be mad,” she said abruptly. “My brother has a gun trained on you. My beloved husband—the Black King—is held hostage by three men in the other room. That’s the object of the game—to pin the King.”
“Not this Game,” I told her as I started across the room toward the bar where Solarin stood. “You may as well resign. You don’t know the objectives, the moves—or even the players. You aren’t the only one who’s planted a pawn—like Saul—inside your own household. You aren’t the only one with allies in Russia and Algiers.…” I stood on the steps with my hand on the champagne bottle as I smiled at Blanche. Her normally pale skin had bled stark white. Llewellyn’s gun was pointed at a part of my body I hoped would go on ticking, but I didn’t think he’d pull the trigger until he heard the end. Solarin squeezed my elbow from behind.
“What are you saying?” said Blanche, biting her lip.
“When I called Harry and told him to go to the Plaza, he wasn’t alone. He was with Mordecai—and Kamel Kader—and Valerie, your faithful maid, who works for us. They didn’t go to the Plaza with Harry. They came here, through the service entrance. Why don’t you have a look?”
Just then, all hell broke loose. Lily dropped Carioca on the floor, and he headed for Llewellyn, who wavered a second too long between Nim and the fuzzy dog. I grabbed the champagne bottle and hurled it across the room at Llewellyn’s head just as he pulled the trigger and Nim doubled over. Then I was across the room, grabbing Llewellyn’s hair and dragging him to the ground with all my weight.
As I wrestled with Llewellyn, from the corner of my eye I saw Hermanold come barreling into the room and Solarin trip him. I sank my teeth into Llewellyn’s shoulder as Carioca did the same with his leg. I could hear Nim moaning on the floor a few inches away as Llewellyn struggled toward the gun. I grabbed the champagne bottle and smashed it down on his hand as I brought my knee up into his groin. He screamed, and I came up for air for a second. Blanche was headed for the marble steps, but Lily caught up with her, grabbed her by the pearl ropes, and gave them a good hard twist as Blanche struggled to claw her back. Her face turned dark.
Solarin grabbed Hermanold by the shirtfront, pulled him to his feet, and socked him in the jaw with a punch I didn’t know chess players possessed. I caught all this in a flash, then I turned to dive for the gun as Llewellyn rolled about clutching his groin.
Gun in hand, I bent over Nim as Solarin raced across the room. “I’m fine,” Nim gasped as Solarin touched his hip wound where a dark stain was forming. “Go to Harry!”
“You stay here,” Solarin told me, pressing my shoulder. “I’ll go back there.” With a grave look at his brother, he sprinted across the room and up the stairs.
Hermanold lay sprawled across the steps, out cold. Llewellyn, a few feet from me, writhed screaming, clutching himself as Carioca still attacked his ankles, shredding the argyle socks. I was kneeling beside Nim, who was gasping heavily, holding his hand to the wet place on his hip where dark blood formed an ever-widening stain. Lily still wrestled with Blanche, whose broken pearls were scattered across the carpeting.
Noises and banging were coming from the back rooms as I bent over Nim.
“You’d better live,” I told him under my breath. “After all you’ve put me through, I’d hate to lose you now before I can retaliate.” His wound was small and deep, just a thin channel of flesh torn away from the side of his upper thigh.
Nim looked up at me and tried to smile. “Are you in love with Sascha?” he said.
I rolled my eyes at the ceiling and let out a sigh. “You’ve recovered,” I told him, pulling him up to a sitting position and handing him the gun. “I think I’d better go make sure he’s still alive.”
I crossed the room on the double, grabbed Blanche by the hair, pulled her off Lily, and pointed to the gun in Nim’s hand. “He’ll use it,” I explained.
Lily followed me up the steps and down the back hall, where the sounds had died away and things were suspiciously quiet. We tiptoed toward the study just as Kamel Kader stepped out the door. He saw us and smiled with his golden eyes, then took me by the hand.
“Well done,” he said happily. “It appears the white team has resigned.”
Lily and I pushed past into the study as Kamel went off down the hall toward the living room. There sat Harry, rubbing his head. Behind him stood Mordecai and Valerie the maid, who’d let them into the apartment through the back. Lily raced across the room and threw herself at Harry, weeping with joy. He stroked her hair as Mordecai winked at me across the room.
Glancing around quickly, I saw Solarin tying the last knot in the ropes that bound Sharrif. Brodski, the KGB man from the chess club, lay trussed beside him like a partridge. Solarin pushed the gag into Brodski’s mouth and turned to me, grasping my shoulder.
“My brother?” he whispered.
“He’ll be fine,” I said.
“Cat darling,” Harry called from behind my back, “thank you for saving my daughter’s life.” I turned to him, and Valerie smiled at me.
“I wish my little brozzaire were here to see zis!” she said, looking around. “He will be very sad—he like a good fight himself.” I went over to give her a hug.
“We’ll talk later,” said Harry. “But now I’d like to say good-bye to my wife.”
“I hate her,” said Lily. “I would’ve killed her if Cat hadn’t stopped me.”
“No, you wouldn’t, darling,” said Harry, kissing her on the head. “No matter what else she may be, she’s still your mother. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. Never forget that.” He turned his sad droopy eyes to me. “And in a way, I’m as much to blame,” he added. “I knew what she was when I married her. I married her for the Game.”
He bent his head in sorrow and left the room. Mordecai patted Lily on the shoulder, looking at her through his thick, owlish glasses.
“The Game’s not over yet,” he said quietly. “In a way it’s just begun.”
Solarin had taken me by the arm and dragged me into the enormous kitchen behind the dining room of Harry’s apartment. As the others cleaned up the mess, he pushed me against the gleaming copper table in the middle. His mouth on mine was so fierce and hot it seemed he wished to devour me as his hands moved down my body. All thought of what had passed outside, what was yet to come, had fled as the darkness of his passion filled me. I felt his teeth in my
neck, his hands in my hair, as I struggled with dizziness. His tongue found mine again, and I moaned. At last he pulled away.
“I must return to Russia,” he whispered in my ear. His lips were moving down my throat. “I must get the board. It’s the only way this Game will truly end.…”
“I’m going with you,” I said, drawing back to look him in the eye. He pulled me back into his arms again, kissing my eyes as I clung to him.
“Impossible,” he murmured, his body trembling with the force of his emotion. “I’ll come back—I promise. I swear it with every drop of blood. I shall never let you go.”
Just then I heard the door open a crack, and we both turned, still locked in each other’s embrace. Kamel stood in the doorway, and standing beside him, supported heavily against his shoulder—was Nim. He swayed against Kamel in the doorway, his face expressionless.
“Slava …” Solarin began, still gripping my arm with one hand as he stepped toward his brother.
“The party’s over,” said Nim, smiling a slow smile that contained both understanding and love. Kamel was looking at me with raised eyebrow as if to ask what was going on. “Come Sascha,” Nim said. “It’s time to finish the Game.”
The white team—at least those we’d captured—were bound, trussed, and wrapped in white sheets. We carried them through the kitchen and took them down in the service elevator to Harry’s limousine waiting in the garage. We put them all—Sharrif and Brodski, Hermanold, Llewellyn, and Blanche—in the roomy back compartment. Kamel and Valerie climbed in behind with the gun. Harry got in the driver’s seat and, beside him, Nim. It wasn’t yet dark, but through the tinted windows observers couldn’t see the interior.
“We’re taking them to Nim’s place out on the point,” Harry explained. “Then Kamel will pick up your sailboat and bring it around.”
“We can load them in a rowboat right from my garden.” Nim laughed, still clutching his hip. “No one lives near enough to see anything.”
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