“Well, Griselda,” he began.
She asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you were in California.”
He sighed, “It’s simply nauseous. More than I can bear, really. Inspector Tobin wouldn’t let me go.”
He walked away from the door and she and the twins followed. Then she saw Con. He was in pajamas, comfortable, lounging in a chair by the open window; of course, a glass in his hand. Seeing him, she knew she had been wrong. She shouldn’t have brought the twins here, risked Con’s safety in this way. Not that he seemed frightened; he didn’t even look interested in anything but his drink. He greeted her casually, “So you came back home, baby. Tobin’s been looking for you.”
Danny’s laugh was almost gay again. “Maybe this was supposed to be a trap. We don’t trap easily.”
“It wasn’t…” But the buzz of the door broke her words. She was frozen. She hadn’t heard the elevator. The twins had sticks sharply in their hands. She whispered, “What shall I do?” her eyes frightened.
David said, “I’ll answer it.”
“I’ll hang my coat.” Danny backed into the closet. There was the killer’s smile on his lips.
She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t call out desperately, “Go away.” She must let Tobin walk into this. And he and Con would try to keep the twins from getting away with the marble. She knew it. They wouldn’t be afraid; they didn’t know what the twins were really like.
David opened the door, shielding himself behind it. She stood watching the opening with sick, paralyzed eyes. And then she breathed. Only Gig.
David bowed. “Come in. We didn’t expect you. We’re about to have a drink. I’ll fix them, Con.”
Con waved his glass agreeably.
Gig looked different. She realized what it was. He was wearing his top coat and he didn’t remove his hat. It was as if he were going away.
He asked David with little curiosity, “What happened to your face?”
“I believe I cut myself shaving.” The smile flickered, went out. “Yes, that was it.”
Jasper was testy. He turned on Danny. “I suppose you cut yourself, too.”
He replied evenly, “I suppose I did.”
David passed Griselda on his way to the kitchen cupboard. “Hadn’t you better get what you came for? Then Danny and I can be on our way. After all, we weren’t invited to this party.”
Danny spoke. “We don’t like to crash it, as you say.”
“I’ll get it,” she said bluntly, but waited for Con to speak. But he said nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard.
“The Normandie sails at midnight, I believe. We can make it.”
Jasper didn’t understand any of this. “You can’t sail without luggage and reservations.”
Danny laughed at him soundlessly. “We can. We have.”
Griselda went to the bedroom. She closed her eyes for an instant. She had been wrong, but she wasn’t wrong now. She must ask for time. She mustn’t give Con a chance to do anything about it This must be done before Tobin came, before he and Con were together. Nothing would stop the twins now. Not if they had to kill everyone in the room. They should have the marble and go, go quietly, forever.
She took it from her bag, closed it into the hot palm of her hand and returned to the living room.
Con still lounged in the chair, still drinking. She looked at him, asking mute forgiveness for what she was about to do, what she must do. But he didn’t understand. He only pantomimed the glasses on her nose as if he hadn’t noticed before.
“So you were here Saturday.”
She said, “Yes.” He must have seen Irish before she had. Of course, Tobin with him. It didn’t matter now. The police had her but she didn’t care. After she gave the twins the blue marble they would go, the horror of them would be gone. She could endure whatever came after that.
David and Danny stood in the room between the others and the door. Their sticks were still under their arms carelessly, held by their elbows against their sides, but quicker than sound they could be touched. Gig was on the piano bench, his hands in his coat pockets.
She walked to David. “Here it is.”
He held out his hand and she put the tiny ball, so round, so exquisitely blue, into his palm. He spoke with a certain exaltation, “The blue marble!” He touched it with one finger almost reverently and it fell apart. So it did open if you knew how. She could see the filigree etching of a map.
Gig’s voice sounded. “You will have to take much care that the marble isn’t stolen from you or that you aren’t murdered by someone who wants it.”
Everyone, save Jasper who was bored, looked at him, curious not at his words but that he should speak then. And he went on, “Need I say that if you move or attempt to touch your canes you will die, even as I am speaking. You know that. That is why you have not made the move. The same applies to all of you, even to Griselda.” The revolver in his hand covered the room.
He spoke to the twins again, “If you will release your elbows-that is right.” The sticks clattered to the floor. “Don’t make any move with your feet. I know there is a gas pocket. You used it on me once, you recall. Griselda, please kick their sticks into the fireplace. No, don’t pick them up, use your feet. Now, Griselda, if you will stand in front of the fireplace, your back to it That is right”
She obeyed, feeling like Alice. It grew curiouser and curiouser. Gig now.
Gig said, “You, Mr. Coldwater, will extract Mr. Satterlee’s artillery. Just keep your hands high, Mr. Satterlee, while he does it. Don’t be afraid, Mr. Coldwater. I shan’t hurt you, unless you should decide to try to use the guns. Just drop them at my feet.”
David spoke. “You too have been after the marble?”
Gig smiled. “Yes. For many years. But it pleased me that you should acquire it for me, save me the- messy work-or much of it. Of course, I did have a few touches.”
“Bette!” Griselda gasped.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But nothing serious, Griselda. Only that she wouldn’t recognize me. She interrupted my search here.” He smiled again. “And now, Mr. Coldwater, you will take the marble from David and bring it to me.” The gun did not waver as Jasper gingerly obeyed, plucking it from David’s palm, hurrying across the room to lay it in Gig’s. The tiny marble, but so very blue.
And again the buzzer sounded. Griselda’s knees slumped. She held to the mantelpiece for support.
Con said, without moving, without concern, “It’s probably Toby. Somebody better let him in or he may think something is wrong.”
Jasper tittered.
Con said, “I mean we don’t want him calling some dumb cops to bust in the door on us, do we? Edwin Booth, make yourself useful and open the door.”
Jasper asked with some hauteur, “Are you speaking to me?”
“Yeah, you.”
Gig’s gun was steady. He said, “Yes, Mr. Coldwater, you had best open it.”
Jasper sighed. His face showed that he wasn’t used to being ordered around like one of his own servants. But he didn’t like that pointed gun. He scurried like a rabbit, let Tobin in.
Gig stated, “Mr. Coldwater will take your gun, Inspector Tobin.”
“Never carry one.” Tobin walked on into the room as if none of this were happening. “Looks like I’m a little late, Con.”
“Looks like it,” Con replied. “Moore with you?”
“He came up the back way.”
Griselda turned her head. Moore was there, lounging in the bedroom doorway. She heard him say, “Look quick, Toby! Give Griselda a hand.”
She had known she couldn’t stand there much longer. She was beginning to weave like a buoy. Tobin caught her, dropped her without ado into a chair. Danny asked, “Shall I get whiskey?”
Gig answered, “Stay where you are. I still have the gun pointed, you see.”
Con drawled, “You might as well put it down, Zcrsky. I filled it up with blanks today while you were down seeing about a passport.�
�
Gig looked first puzzled, then incredulous.
Con lit a cigarette. “My God, didn’t you know we’ve had a tail on you for weeks?”
Tobin put in his word. “And if any of the rest of you have any bright ideas about retrieving your artillery, just skip it. Moore’s got more medals than anybody on the force for target practice. Quick on the draw, too, aren’t you, Cowboy?”
Moore looked embarrassed, thumbs in his belt, but he nodded.
Tobin said, “There’s some X-men downstairs. Garth’s on his way now from Washington. And is he tickled to have you twins safe at last.”
David bowed slightly. “Why does he want us? We’ve done nothing.”
“He might ask a few questions about how you happened to get hold of the blue marble.”
David smiled. “We don’t have the blue marble, Inspector. Herr Gigland-or is it Zcrsky?-has it.”
Con said, “Zcrsky’s the name, and by the way, Zcrsk, I found where you’d hidden Gig. That’s one reason I’ve been so tied up, babe.” This was to Griselda.
Tobin said, “Marble or no marble, twins, you’ll get yours. The X is handling and they’ve finally got enough against you to put you both away for good.”
Con added, “We’ve even got your pilot that forced my plane down and took Irish away so you could kill him.”
The twins did not speak. Gig did. He laid the emasculated gun carefully on the piano bench. “You will let me go, please. I have done nothing wrong. I am not a killer, as these.”
Con said, “Garth’s been looking for you too, you know, Zcrsky.” He unfolded himself from the chair and started across to him. “You might as well hand back the marble. It won’t do you any good now.”
Gig’s calm was frenzy immediately. He backed nearer the window. He shrilled, “I won’t give you the marble! I won’t! I’ve waited too long for it! It’s mine!” Con took another step towards him and Gig screamed in his fury, “Don’t touch me! This is mine, mine!” He wasn’t normal; he knew he was cornered. He thrust his hand behind him out of Con’s reach, but he had forgotten the open window. He stumbled against it, grasped at the ledge to keep from falling-and the marble slipped from his palm. He whirled, clawing for it, but it rolled away, over the edge, down, down, four stories to the street below. There was no sound in the room but Gig’s sobbing, Danny’s quick intake of breath.
David drew back. “It will not be found. It will be a thousand years before it comes to light again.”
His black eyes, unseeing eyes, turned again to the room. “It has all been a waste.” He buttoned his coat, adjusted his scarf, his hat. He took one of the gold monogrammed cigarettes from his case, lighted it with deliberation. Every eye watched him, watched the match burn evenly, his intake of smoke, the trickle that came from his mouth. Every eye watched Danny follow the same motions, as if synchronized with his brother.
Danny repeated, “It has all been a waste.”
They turned together, moved steadily to the door. David said, “Goodnight, Griselda,” and Danny smiled, “It’s been fun seeing you.” It was the same as it had been too many times before, save that now there were no sticks beneath their arms. They opened the door, went out, closing it behind them.
Griselda was laughing and crying, her arms about Jasper of all that room; Jasper, because he alone was undisturbed, only terribly annoyed. He was not playing the lead tonight.
Tobin said, “They can’t get away. The X are waiting for them below.”
Griselda whispered, but everyone heard her. “They won’t be taken. They can do things no human people can do.” She believed it.
Con shook himself, wiped his forehead. “For God’s sake, let’s have a drink.”
2
As if a fog lifted, the confusion went away. Uniforms came for Gig, departed. Jasper made relieved and determined exit. Only Tobin, Moore, Con and she remained, glasses in hand. She sat close to Con on the couch, so close she could feel the warmth of his arm under his coat sleeve.
Con said, “Sure glad you and Moore got back in time, Toby. I couldn’t have done anything to stop anybody.”
Tobin told Griselda, “We just missed you.”
“Missed me?”
“Con sent us up to Queechy to bring you back. He was getting nervous. We flew up, but you’d already gone. The place was empty, so we flew back in double time.”
She caught her lip in her teeth. “Empty. Missy-”
Con touched her hand.
“There wasn’t anyone there.”
She closed her eyes again, trying to forget that scarlet room. Maybe another spring Missy would be helping the violets and wild roses and little ferns to grow. Maybe she’d be under the water forever. The twins knew ways.
Tobin said, “It would have been just too bad, wouldn’t it, if Zcrsky had examined his artillery before dropping in tonight?”
Con shook his head. “He’d have had to go out for more shells. And the tail would have let me know. I cleaned him out today with Bette watching and she fidgety as a bird.”
Griselda wondered, “Why didn’t Bette tell me Gig wasn’t the real Gig?”
Con said, “I asked her that. She didn’t know you thought he was my Gig. To her any Gigland was rightly called Gig, and he told her the same yarn he told the University about J. Antwerp going off to Persia. He even forged a letter to her-of course, Gig’s letter to Columbia was forgery-warning her about saying anything of J. Antwerp being away, that he was on a very secret mission. He actually needn’t have gone to that trouble. Bette never has been much of a talker.” He put out his cigarette. “He was no more a Gigland than you are, of course.”
Griselda shook her head. “What happens to him? He was good to me.”
“If he hadn’t made the mistake of kidnaping Gig and shutting him up in a hole of a tenement, he’d only be kicked out of the country. But kidnaping’s serious business. Thank God,” he drank, “Gig’s all right. Anyhow he will be when he gets a shave and bath and some sleep.” He drained his glass. “I’m going to have a refill.”
Griselda said she’d have another. He’d have to come back beside her to bring it. If she missed the plane, Jasper would go on anyway. If Tobin and Moore would only leave, maybe Con would realize her. Maybe he’d think her too weak to be setting out this night for California, not know that she was only trembling at his nearness.
She didn’t want to go back to California. She didn’t ever want to go away from him again. But what else could she do when Con was silent, letting Jasper make plans. He had said, “Let’s leave on the next plane, Griselda, get out of this revolting town and go home to Hollywood.”
She had tried to hesitate, give Con a chance to demur, but he had said nothing. He hadn’t even looked at her while Jasper went on spoiling things as carefully as Aunt Charlotte or Ann might spoil them. “You might just as well, you know. My picture goes into production right away and Oppy wants you to design the women’s clothes. He’s expecting you. There’s really no sense of your staying in New York any longer. And the trip is so nauseating alone. I’ll go pack and pick you up, shall I?”
Con silent You couldn’t stay on when you weren’t asked. She had said, not looking at either of them, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
Con might have thought she wanted to go. Even now as close to him as she dared move herself, he might not know. If she were alone with him… But she couldn’t ask the others to get out
She said, “Thank you,” when Con returned, taking the fresh glass. His hand just brushed hers. Her fingers ached to retain the touch.
He began talking again, keeping Tobin and Moore there, “We could have cleaned this up last week, only I had to find Gig. I was afraid of what might have happened to him. Garth helped. He’s been trying to land Zcrsky for a long time. Get him out of the country. He may have been good to you, but he’s wanted under more than one name in more than one place.”
Her fingers just touched his sleeve. “Con, why did you risk keeping the marble here in
the apartment?”
He knew her touch was there. “It wasn’t the real one, baby. It looked like it but it was only a late Renaissance imitation.” Then he guffawed to Toby, “Where do you think she hid it? Sewed inside a kid’s rag doll!”
Her eyes opened wide to his. “You opened my deposit box? You read that letter!”
“Sure,” he said. ”Who do you think I am, Sir Galahad?”
There was silence between them for that swift, startled moment. He must have felt her tremble, the glass in her hand was as in wind. She couldn’t believe. She didn’t dare believe. But his look was as it had been long ago, as if he too wished they were alone to clear up so many things. Her eyes dropped. She could explain later that she was sentimental the night she wrote it and frightened, terribly frightened for him.
Tobin glancing from Con to her suddenly seemed aware. “We’d better hump, Moore. Trouble is soon as one case is out of the way, a new one starts. Morning comes early.”
The sergeant downed his drink. “Sure does.”
Tobin stood up and stretched. “Give you a lift, Griselda?”
She held her breath for one momentous instant. Con answered. “No, she’s staying here.” She didn’t look at him.
He was walking to the door with the men. He was saying, “She came East for a rest and now she’s going to have it. We’re going to spend a week in bed.”
This file was created with BookDesigner program
[email protected]
02.08.2011
The So Blue Marble Page 18
