Montgomery walked over to the bookcase and pushed against it. One part of it quietly popped open and he swung it back like a door.
"Gentlemen." He ushered them through. Carter didn't move, so I didn't either.
When everyone else had entered the room behind the bookshelf, Montgomery said, "Would you like a demonstration of what we do here?"
Carter put his hand on my neck and said, "After what I saw tonight, I don't know that I have anything to learn." This was not what I was expecting him to say.
Montgomery seemed surprised as well. He grinned his awful grin and looked down at me. "I see. Well, I hope we haven't wasted your time."
I looked down, playing the submissive.
Carter replied, "Not a waste of time. Just think I have mine trained better than any of those little puppies I just saw. If you'd like for me to show them a thing or two, I'd be happy to."
This made Montgomery furious. "I don't think we can learn anything from a country hick. You may think you know how to be violent and exact obedience, but I wonder if you know how to take a man to the edge and then leave him there, wanting more?"
The was a tense silence. Finally, Carter asked, "Do you ever play with revolvers?"
I kept my head down.
"From time to time."
"Russian roulette?"
Montgomery didn't immediately answer.
"No. Not with loaded chambers, at least."
"More fun with just one." I assumed Carter meant one bullet. I wondered where he got that twisted idea from.
Montgomery was silent. His face took on a pious quality, as though he was venerating a saint. "Perhaps I underestimated you."
"Maybe you did."
Carter pushed me forward. Hard. I stumbled and found myself prostate right in front of Montgomery. Carter put his right foot on top of my back. "Lick," he commanded.
I assumed he meant Montgomery's brightly polished shoe. I gave it a shot.
"See. That's how this works." Carter said, with that slow southern drawl.
Montgomery said nothing. But he didn't move either. I ran my tongue over the patent leather, trying not to gag.
After a moment, Carter removed his foot from my back. I felt his hand pull at my collar. He lifted me up and stood me up. I looked down again, as I'd done earlier.
"He's well trained. I wonder--"
Carter said, "Maybe another time." He pushed me forward a bit and said, "Thank the man."
I put out my hand. Montgomery shook it again. This time he put more pressure in it. His grip was more possessive. I looked and saw that he was excited.
"Come on." Carter barked.
I walked towards the door, following the guidance of his hand. We walked down the hallway in the same way. When we got to the door, he reached around me and opened it, pushing me out into the night, and pulling the door closed behind him.
I stood there for a moment. He pushed me, very gently, and I walked past the parked cars to the curb. I raised my hand to hail a cab. He pulled it down and raised his own, aggressively stepping into the evening traffic, and doing the kind of whistle that he liked to call a "hog call." A cab stopped right in front of him, like magic. He opened the door and pushed me inside. I moved over to let him in. Carter got inside, pulled the door closed and said, very quietly, "I'm sorry."
Chapter 22
Paramount Steakhouse
Wednesday, June 2, 1953
After 10 in the evening
Before we'd left the hotel, we had pre-arranged to meet up with Runson at the same restaurant on 17th Street where we'd eaten the night before.
When we walked in, Runson was seated at a table talking with Veronica.
I walked up and Runson glanced at me, surprised. "That was fast."
I nodded. Veronica looked at me and said, "Well, hello there. So nice to see you both again, and so soon. I guess I'm just a lucky girl, aren't I?" She batted her eyes flirtatiously. I laughed.
Runson said, "Time to take a hike, Veronica."
She stood up. She was wearing a very slinky and very tight dress and carried a tiny purse. "I have my work to do. I guess I'll go on over and beat the rush." She looked up at Carter. "I still feel faint."
Carter was ready for her this time. He reached over and pulled her close to his chest. As he did, I saw him slip a folded hundred I'd given him into her left hand.
She stood there a moment. They swayed to the sound of Jo Stafford singing about autumn leaves on the jukebox. Finally, Veronica pulled away and very discreetly put the hundred in her tiny purse.
"Goodbye, boys. Thanks for everything." She sauntered to the door, stopping to talk to some kids at a table near the front. She looked back at me and winked before walking out into the night.
Carter and I once again squeezed in together across the table from Runson.
"Did you give her money?" he asked Carter.
"Not I," replied Carter truthfully.
"You're just gonna spoil her."
I smiled. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Now, do you wanna hear all about it?"
Runson leaned forward and said, "Yes. How depraved was it?"
Carter and I both laughed. I said, "The rest of the group were just playing some sort of game. But Montgomery is the real thing. Kinda looks like a monster."
Runson nodded. He looked at Carter. "Did you play your role?"
Carter nodded. "Ask Nick."
Runson looked at me questioningly.
"He did. Very well. Had me licking Montgomery's shoe. Which, by the way, was coated in shoe polish. Where's Diego? I need a glass of water and then a double Martini."
Runson and Carter laughed at that.
. . .
We gave Runson the full run-down on the evening's non-eventful event.
Runson said, "So, you basically promised to loan out Nick?"
Carter said, "I just followed my gut. I'm not sure what he thinks I promised. I teased him, which he got off on. He's like Tom. I think he could easily be turned, like you two did with Tom last night."
Runson shook his head. "Like Nick did. That was all him." He looked over at me. "Was that playacting? Or was it real?"
I replied, "It was real. I wanted to do the same thing tonight. There was a point when I could tell they were all just playing at this. And that they would all fall in line with someone with real authority."
Carter said, "Yeah. That's right. I don't think it would be hard."
Runson shook his head again, "Not Montgomery. Like you said, he's the real deal."
"What do you know about him?" I asked.
"Grew up in Philadelphia. On the Main Line. Wealthy family who've written him off. Has enough money to live comfortably. But not a lot." He paused dramatically. "Went to Penn." He grinned at me.
"Where he lettered in something like long-distance running?"
Runson pointed his finger at me and said, "Bingo."
"So, how many suspects are we up to?"
Runson said, "The senator, Tom, and, Montgomery."
"But, we don't know why." That was Carter.
Runson replied, "This is a crime of passion the way I see it. Either it was the senator's passion for his job and, maybe, becoming President some day. Or it was love for Tom. Or lust for Montgomery."
I shook my head. "I don't buy the senator. At all. Sending his son off to Europe would be more his style."
Runson said, "I don't rule anything out. All we have to go on is an open skylight, some pebbles on the floor, and a handy fire escape. All three are physically capable."
"Do you think what Michael said about running into Montgomery on the street was true?"
Runson grinned at me. "No."
"No?"
"At least I don't think it was a coincidence. This isn't Montgomery's kind of neighborhood. I don't think he would be wandering around 17th Street any more than he would be wandering around Georgetown."
I nodded. I didn't know enough about the city to know what he meant, but I got the gist of it.
> "So, you think he was following Michael?"
"Yes. If that's the way it happened."
Carter said, "That sounds like something he would do. Montgomery is creepy. Besides that, he's..." He reached for a word. "Unstable."
I nodded. "He is. This little group of his isn't fun and games. What he's doing is like a personality trait for him. And it ain't pretty."
I turned in my seat to look at Carter and smiled up at him. "But I think Carter could have him eating out of his hand if he tried."
Runson looked at Carter. "Well?"
"Well, what?" Carter looked vaguely uncomfortable.
"Would you try to get him to confess?"
Carter lifted up both hands. "Whoa. I'm not a cop. I don't--"
"Oh, I'd be there. We three would go in together." For a moment, I thought that Runson looked a little too eager at the thought. Then it seemed to pass.
. . .
When we got back to the suite, had undressed, and were in bed I asked Carter the question that had been teasing me all evening.
"Did you get excited by that?"
Carter was quiet for a minute.
"Yes and no."
I paused. I knew how to wait to get a full answer out of a feverish mind.
He turned on his side and looked at me. The room was dark, but the lights from the city made it bright enough to see his face.
"It's like this. There was a kind of, I dunno, camaraderie between you and me tonight as it all happened. That's the first time I can remember you and me, as a couple, talking about sex stuff. With other people."
I waited.
"But I don't like pushing you around."
"You do it well enough when we--"
"Yeah. I know. But this is different. It's mental. I don't like that."
"But you tease me all the time. Like when you talk about how all the waiters in town love me. Isn't that the same?"
He thought for a moment.
"No. That's admiration, pure and simple. I love how generous you are. You know how I used to count every penny. I was afraid. Now I'm not afraid."
"You'll never have to be afraid again, as far as I'm concerned."
"I know that, Nick." He sounded a little put out when he said that.
"What?"
"I know you have bequeathed me your worldly goods and all that. You don't have to keep reminding me."
"Wait. One minute you're saying how I changed your life. The next minute... What gives?"
Carter sighed. "I guess this still rubs me the wrong way sometimes. Now you're paying for everything--"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa buddy. Let's remember exactly what went down. I'm on a ship, taking care of sailors--"
"And, how," snickered Carter.
I ignored that. "When I get a radiogram--"
"Yeah, yeah. I know the story."
"The point is that it ain't my dough, really. And maybe we'd be better off I just gave away all of it, instead of just half of it like I did."
Carter sighed again. "That's not what I mean. Hell..."
I waited. I wasn't sure what it was.
"It was that house," Carter finally said.
Now I understood.
"They were so pompous and arrogant."
"I know."
"And I don't think it was playacting. That arrogance was real."
"Yeah," was all I could say. I was used to it. I added, "Those men were all different versions of my evil father. And they did the same thing with you that he did. Once you stood up to them, they backed off. Or, at least, Montgomery did."
He took a deep breath. Then another question popped into my mind.
"What was all that about Russian roulette?"
"I dunno. It just came to me to ask him."
"And the thing about one bullet?"
"I was trying to think of all the twisted stories I've heard over the years. I guess I knew someone who did that or talked about doing it. I don't know."
Carter looked at me for a long moment. He pulled me in close for a long and passionate kiss.
. . .
The next morning, Carter was in the shower and I was headed that way when the phone rang.
"Yeah?"
"Put him on the phone." It was Montgomery.
"He's not taking calls right now."
"Did he tell you to tell me that?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what? Don't you know how to talk to your betters?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's better. I'm sure he will be very interested to know what you did just then. I wonder what the punishment might be?" He was starting to breath heavy. The line went dead.
I looked at the phone for a moment, wondering what that was all about. After putting it gently on the cradle, as though apologizing to the instrument for having tainted its purity, I walked into the bathroom and stepped into the bathtub with Carter, who was rinsing off.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"Montgomery."
"What did he want?"
"To be pervy on the phone, I think."
Carter laughed.
"He asked for you. I told him you weren't taking calls. I didn't address him correctly. He wondered what kind of punishment you would be giving out. He started breathing heavy. Then he hung up."
Carter was standing behind me. He wrapped his long arms around my chest and pulled me close. He began to kiss my neck. "A thousand kisses."
"What?"
"That's your punishment."
. . .
We were both dressed and Carter was putting on his hat when the phone rang again. This time he answered it.
"Yes?"
There was a brief pause. Carter looked over at me and winked. It must have been Montgomery again.
"I see." He looked up at the ceiling as he listened for a moment or two.
"I don't think so." He dropped the phone on the cradle.
"What was that?" I asked.
"He wants for us all to get together. I said no. He'll call back. He sounds desperate."
"There is something wrong with that man."
"You said it, son."
Carter opened the door of the suite and I walked past him. As I did, I could see Tom Jefferson walking down the hallway towards us.
He smiled and stopped. We walked towards him. As we got closer, I could see that he was perfectly turned out again. Nothing out of place.
We all shook hands without any words. He looked at me and said, "I heard you went to visit Ronnie Montgomery last night."
Without looking at Carter, he added, "And the roles were reversed."
I nodded. "Wanna join us for breakfast, Tom?"
"I've already eaten."
"I didn't ask if you ate. I just wanted to know if you wanted to join us." I don't know if I'd read dialogue like this or seen it in a movie, but it came out just like that.
Tom looked down at the floor.
I asked, “Well?”
He didn’t look up but simply said, "Yes."
"Good. Let's go." I walked towards the elevator. Carter came around in front of me and stopped us both in the little lobby right in front of the elevator door. He stood there, crossed his arms, and looked down at me.
"You know how I feel about manners, Nick."
I nodded. I had no idea where he was going with this. I wondered if he was trying to establish a kind of pecking order that Tom would recognize.
Carter looked behind me at Tom. "You've been rude to me, Tom. Don't you think you should apologize?"
Tom was quiet. I turned around. He had a very strange look on his face.
"Yes, Tom. Don't you?"
Tom simply nodded.
Carter said, "So?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Jones. I have been rude. It won't happen again."
Carter said, "Nick, he's your responsibility. What do you think? Was that good enough?"
I blinked a couple of times as I tried to keep up. I stuck out my chin and looked at Tom, trying to remember the face I'd used the other night
at Michael's house.
"Good enough. Could be better." I abruptly turned around. Carter smiled down at me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Good boy."
All this role-playing was beginning to feel staged. But Tom was taking it in hook, line, and sinker.
. . .
At breakfast, Tom was very compliant. He spoke when spoken to, he deferred to me in anything I said, and he was cautious whenever Carter would move. We had found the lever that got that machine moving in him. I wondered what might happen once he figured out we were acting.
After we were done eating, Carter pushed his chair back and crossed one leg over the other. The toe of his big shoe pointed right at Tom, who suddenly couldn't take his eyes off of it. I thought about the other men we'd known who'd been mesmerized by Carter like this. There were some who had been in love with him. They had wanted to sit in his lap, in particular. That was the dilemma of being tall. Everyone thought you were their daddy.
But this was different. We'd stumbled into some sort of code of behavior. Carter had established who was in charge at the elevator. Tom was now simply following the logic of that.
I turned to Tom and asked, "How is the senator doing?"
He tore away his gaze at Carter and looked at me. "Beg pardon?"
Carter said, in a low voice, "He asked about the senator. You need to pay better attention, boy."
Tom nodded and whispered, "Yes, sir."
I looked around to see if anyone was aware of the little drama unfolding at our table. No one appeared to be. But, I did see Andy sitting at a table nearby. I wondered what he was doing here. He was looking at his newspaper so closely that I knew he was listening to us.
Tom said, "He's fine."
I asked, "What about Michael's mother?"
"Oh, she passed on about ten years ago. There's really no close family. That's why..." He stopped and took a sip of coffee.
"Why what?" I asked Tom with some authority in my voice.
He shrugged. "It's why the senator gave Michael so much."
"How'd you meet Michael?" I asked.
"He came to the office one day. I had seen him in passing. About a year and a half ago he visited the office needing to talk to his father. The senator was on the floor speaking, so we chatted instead. One thing led to another. You know how that goes."
The Sartorial Senator (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 3) Page 15
