"How about contacts?"
"I can't adjust to the hard ones. You can't get bifocals in soft lenses.
I wear them to see close, and then I'd have to take them out to see across the room or drive my car or cross the street. Or wear glasses for distance when I was wearing them."
"Oh."
"Jane says the only thing faster than light is me whipping my glasses off when a customer comes in. I know it's silly. I think my husband made me sort of supersensitive about them."
"How?"
"I shouldn't mention him because I don't like answering questions about him, and so I hardly ever do."
"No questions."
"Thanks. We better order, maybe?"
We ordered. After the food came, I said, "I know you didn't find out until this morning, but you must have some idea of how it was done."
"I can't believe it really happened. I keep thinking Hirsh has to be wrong. He's really old. Don't old people get weird ideas sometimes?"
"That would be a pretty complicated fantasy."
"But for me it's easier to believe."
"Why do you say that?"
"Look, it's the detail, the volume. If I had no interruptions and everything right there, it would take a long time to take the good items out and put the bad items in. There are thirty-six double-sided pages in that stock book. Seventy-two pages and about ten to go. Okay, that means about ten items per page. I'm pretty quick with my hands.
They're kind of big but quick. So I have to take an item out of the horizontal strip and put it aside and then select the item that goes there and put it where it should be. Ten seconds to switch one? Fair guess? So six hundred single stamps, pairs, blocks and plate blocks all in mounts would take six thousand seconds, or one hundred minutes, or an hour and forty minutes. And if I could get very whippy and do it in five seconds, it would still take ten minutes less than an hour.
Just exactly how am I going to do that sitting practically touching two men at a little table under a bright light? The goodies have to be right there in that book! Or the bank is crooked. Take your choice."
"Would you be able to remember the arrangement, the way you put the items in the book?"
"Sure."
"And you could see well enough to "
"I'm not that bund. I found the Barbados page, and it was too full to take the ones we'd brought that day, even if I'd moved the items closer together. And I like to arrange the stamps on the pages. You know.
Spaced to look nice.
It doesn't matter to Sprenger. He wouldn't care if we put them in a cigar box, I guess. But they are nice, and they represent a lot of money, and it is sort of... a response to the quality and the money to arrange them nicely."
"Do you think if you had your glasses on that day In the bank, you would have seen something was wrong?" "From what Hirsh said this morning I should hope so!
Bad centering. Stains and toning and fading. But not in every case."
"Why not?"
"Well... take Barbados for example. Scott 53, the four-penny rose is worth about fifty dollars unused, for a real good one. But Scott 53b in the same condition is worth fifteen hundred dollars anyway. Know what the silly difference is? Well, 53 is perf fourteen on all sides, and 53b is perf twelve and a half on the sides."
"What do those numbers mean?"
"Like fourteen. Those little holes so you can tear the stamps apart, it means there are fourteen holes in a space two centimeters long. You use a gauge to measure, something with the different gauges all printed on it. So you couldn't look in the stock book and tell with the naked eye if you had the ordinary 1875 four-penny rose or the special one.
The special one is worth so much more because there were so few of them printed."
"And you certainly have one fantastic memory, Mary Alice."
She laughed.
"I'm showing off. My memory isn't so great. I remember that one because I found one. Hirsh bought a collection of Colonials. It was so neat and orderly and well-labeled and mounted that we sort of took for granted the collector had really studied them. Well, it was just sort of luck. I took an ordinary one we had in stock and put it beside the one in the collection because I wanted to see which one was really best, for a customer.
And the perforations didn't look right. I used the one stamp to measure the other. After the customer left, I used a gauge. Then, on my own, I sent it off to the Philatelic Foundation in New York, with a fee in advance, and in six weeks it came back with the certification it was 53b. So I put it on Hirsh's desk as a surprise. He put it in Sprenger's investment collection, and he gave me a hundred-dollar bonus. It's really fun to find something like that, you know? Like mining for gold, I guess."
Though I had no empathy for her excitement, I liked the expression on her face, the look of enthusiasm. To each his own. I wondered why some man hadn't made a lot of extra effort to keep hold of this girl, The special, bonus size. A lifelong supply of goodies. But she had warned me nicely about asking questions.
I decided abruptly that I was going to take the lady at her own valuation. It is a process of logic, I guess. If she had the art, the style, the exquisite ability to project a total plausibility regardless of what stress I'd put on her, then she would not have spent five years in a funny little stamp store in Miami. Pretense requires vast expenditures of energy. That much guile would have sought better stalking places Besides, I liked the neat little creases at the corners of her mouth. I liked that tricky blue shade of her Iris. I liked the genuine big-girl hunger with which she stashed away the medium-adequate meal. I liked the way the black hair had a coarse, healthy gloss and the way she tossed and swung it back out of her way.
"Okay," I said, "you are no longer on the suspect list."
"Are you sure you want to do me such a big favor?" "I know how im you must be."
"Are you suspicious of practically everybody?"
"Practically."
"That must be a hell of a way to go through life, fellow."
"It's only when I'm working. The rest of the time I'm an amiable, trusting, innocent slob."
"Isn't it steady work?"
"It could be, but I don't let it. When I get a few bucks ahead, I retire. Retirement is more fun at my age than it would be later."
"You've got a point. Also, you don't look married.
Which makes it easier, huh?"
"Just one thing about you raises a question."
"Such as?"
"You have a sedentary job, Mary Alice, and from what you said, I guess you work at home too. But I know good conditioning when I see it. You walk around on springs."
She grinned, clenched her fist, and made a muscle. At her invitation I reached over and prodded it with a thumb.
"Very substantial," I said.
"I have to live with it, Trav, or give up. big, and I've got good coordination. I ran with a pack of boys from the time I could run. I played all their games and all the girl-games too. I can win canes and boxes of taffy at those weight-guessing places. What would you guess me at?
Don't try to flatter me."
"Hmmm. Between a hundred and thirty-five and a hundred and forty?"
"One fifty-six this morning, stripped, on my very good scales. I've got big heavy bones, and I grew a lot of muscle tissue at all the games. So I'm in training always, because if I let things go, they really go. The muscles turn to lard, and everything starts to sag and wobble around, very nasty. I do the Canadian thing. And I make all my points men's points, by the way every week of my life.
I've done it so long, I love it."
"I dog it. I get soft enough so that it bothers me, and then I have to go to work on it."
"You look in real good shape, you know?"
"I've been working on it."
We looked at each other. The blue eyes seemed to get bigger, just big enough to let me in. I had the feeling I was reaching down into that blueness, to where something had gone click, startling both of us. I heard her breath catch
, and then she took a deep deep breath, looking away as she did so, breaking the unexpected contact. I signaled the waiter, making a writing motion in the palm of my hand.
He nodded and came toward the table, sorting through his checks.
We walked back side by side and about twenty inches apart.
"Thank you for a very nice lunch, Travis."
"You are most welcome, Mary Alice." "Like Hirsh said, I want to help you any way I can."
"You've been a lot of help."
"Have I?"
"That estimate of the time it would take to change the items in the stock book was useful. It helps me see the whole picture."
"I'm glad."
"Perhaps when we get back to the store, you can let me inspect one of those books."
"Of course."
"My car is over there in that lot. Would you like to look at it?"
She stopped and frowned at me.
"Why should I want to look at your car?"
"Maybe because it is older than you are."
"It is?"
"It's a pickup truck."
"Really?"
"Do you want to look at it?"
"Why not?"
As we neared it, I pointed it out.
"Yecht," she said, "what a frightful shade of blue." And then she said, "But it's a home-made pickup truck!" And then she said, "My God, it's a Rolls-Royce." Then she braced herself against it and laughed.
No silvery little tinkly giggle. Haw ho haw hah haw. Oh God. Oh ho haw!
A bray. A contralto bugling.
"If you think this is funny, you should see my house boat, where I live."
"Whu-whu-whu-what's funny about that!"
"I can't explain it. I have to show you."
"Yuh-yuh-you do that. Oh dear." She found her kleenex and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. We headed for the office.
"Is it really that funny?"
"No. I hurt your feelings or something?"
"No."
"It... it was relief, kind of. When you said look at your car I thought, Oh God, another of those. You know.
You'd have some kind of nasty little thing about two feet high and ten feet wide and twenty feet long, with fifty dials and a speedometer that goes up to two hundred. And I'd have to admire the ugly damn childish thing or even ride in it if you insisted. Then you'd show me your key that fits every Playboy Club in America and overseas, and then you'd try to do the old magic trick."
"What old magic trick."
"You know. All of a sudden you turn into a motel."
"And you laughed because none of that is going to happen?"
"And because that Miss. Agnes is a very dear automobile," she said, pushing open the door to the shop.
Seven.
On Friday morning I cleaned up after my breakfast, took a couple of overdue loads to the laundromat and sat and peaceably watched some women get their loads whiter than mine. I was not torn with jealousy.
I wished them well. On the way back a fat man on a rackety little trail bike nearly ran me down, then yelled out his estimate of my ancestry and lineage. I smiled and nodded and wished him well. I remembered vaguely that the city fathers had put the roust on me. Move off your boat or leave town. I wished them well too. Nourish yourself well at that public trough, boys. Gobble any goodies which happen to float by.
Meyer was sitting on the dock, legs swinging, waiting for me. He came aboard. He stood behind me as I stowed the laundry.
"How did you make out?" he asked.
"Beautiful."
"What?"
"This is the best time of year. Right?"
"I stayed and talked to Hirsh for a while. By the time I got around to calling the shop, you were gone."
"We left early. Mary Alice and me."
"Turn around, Travis."
"What?"
"Turn around a minute and look at me."
"Sure."
He stared and nodded.
"I see."
"What do you see?"
"That you're going to try to help Hirsh Fedderman."
"What? Oh, sure. That's right. As right as... "
"Rain?"
"Whatever you say, old buddy."
When my chores were done, we had a talk. I pulled my wandering attention in from somewhere out beyond left field and tried to settle down to the task at hand. I remembered what Mary Alice had said about how long the switch would take and how incredible it seemed to her, how she wondered if any switch had really taken place at all. I tried her approach on Meyer.
"I have to believe Hirsh," Meyer said.
"If he saw it, he saw it. His mind is very quick and keen."
"She really knows all that stuff."
"What?"
"Ah1 that stamp stuff."
"I would think it would be more remarkable if, after five years, she didn't know all about it."
"What?"
"Never mind. Good God!"
"I wanted to give her a ride in Miss. Agnes. It was a slow afternoon.
Jane told us to take off. I followed Mary Alice to her place, in her old yellow Toyota. We had a drink in Homestead and dinner in Naples."
"Naples?!"
"I know. We were just drifting along, talking about this and that, and Naples seemed like the closest place. So we came back across Alligator Alley and came here, and I showed her the Flush. It knocked her out, like Agnes did.
I like the way she laughs."
"You like the way she laughs." "That's what I said. So then I drove her home and by then it was too late to even stop in for a nightcap."
"How late is too late?"
"Quarter past five."
"No wonder your face looks blurred."
"Meyer, the whole twelve hours seemed like twenty or thirty minutes. We just hit the edges of all the things there are to talk about."
"Are you going to be able to think about Hirsh Fedderman's problem?"
"Whose what?"
He went away, shaking his head, making big arm gestures at the empty space ahead of him. If he had come back, I would have told him that I had almost decided that there was no problem at all, that Fedderman had been mistaken. If there is no way at all for something to have happened, the best initial assumption is that it didn't happen.
On that Friday I arrived at the store at closing time and drove Jane Lawson back to her place, a so-called garden apartment in a huge development of yesteryear, about a half-hour bus ride from Fedderman's store.
She sat erect on the edge of the seat and said, "Our gal was pretty punchy all day, Trav."
"I haven't been exactly alert,"
"Now turn left again and here we are.
I hate that miserable bus, but it would be a worse bus ride for Linda."
She had already told me that Linda was the elder of her two, a scholarship freshman at the University of Miami in Coral Gables. Judy was a junior in high school. Sixteen and eighteen. I had noticed she talked about Linda quite a lot and had very little to say about Judy.
She tried the door and then got out her keys and said, "Excuse the way the place will probably look. Working mother and two teen gals. I've tried. But they have a tendency to hang their clothes up in mid-air."
The living room was small and oven-hot. She hurried over to a great big window unit and turned it on high-high, and then raised her voice to carry over the thunder of compressor and fan.
"The house rule is the last one out turns the beast off. It eats electricity. But it will chill this place fast, and then I can turn it down to where we can hear ourselves think. Isn't it terrible? Fix you a drink?"
"If there's a beer?"
"There could be. Let me look."
She came smiling back with a cold bottle of beer and a tall glass and excused herself to change out of her working clothes. There was too much furniture in the room. The fireplace was fake. There was a double frame on the mantel, and in one side of it was an incongruously young man with a nice grin, Air Force uniform, lieutenant bars, pilot
wings. In the other half was a picture of the same lieutenant in civilian clothes, sports jacket and slacks. He was holding a baby and looking down into its invisible face while a Jane Lawson, eighteen years younger, stood by him, no higher than his shoulder, smiling up at him.
The Scarlet Ruse Page 7
