Descent from Xanadu

by Harold Robbins

  “I’m pleased to see you, Fast Eddie,” she smiled, opening the envelope with the flowers.

  The card was in Judd’s handwriting. “Welcome home, Barbara. Love, Judd.”

  She held the roses in her arms. Fast Eddie introduced the young man. “This is Marcus Merlin, Judd’s personal assistant,” he said.

  “I’m honored, Mrs. Crane.”

  Barbara shook his hand. “My pleasure, Mr. Merlin.”

  “We have arranged courtesy of the port for you, Mrs. Crane,” Merlin said. “If you’ll give me your passport and baggage checks, I’ll transfer you directly to the helicopter.”

  Barbara nodded, and Merlin led her to a side door down a staircase to the field where a limousine waited. The customs official took her passport and baggage checks and turned away. A chauffeur held the door open and she stepped into the car. Fast Eddie quickly opened a bottle of champagne and filled a glass for her.

  “Your favorite,” he said. “Cristale.”

  “Thank you for remembering.”

  “It was Mr. Crane who remembered,” Fast Eddie smiled. “You’re lookin’ real good, Mrs. Crane.”

  She smiled back. “I feel real good, Fast Eddie.” She sipped at the champagne. “And how is Judd?”

  “He’s also real good, ma’am,” he said. “But he’s like his father, always very busy.”

  Merlin came toward the open door. “Six Louis Vuitton bags?”

  “That’s right.”

  He waved to the customs official. The chauffeur and Fast Eddie placed the luggage in the trunk of the limousine. Fast Eddie got into the front seat with the chauffeur. Merlin looked in at her. “May I join you, Mrs. Crane?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  The car began to move away. “The helicopter is at the far end of the airport,” Merlin said. “I think you’ll like it. It’s our newest passenger model. Carries twenty-four passengers and crew. The newest Hughes model carries only fourteen.”

  Barbara nodded.

  “The flight will take only twenty-five minutes,” Merlin said. “That’s less time than it takes to drive to downtown San Francisco.”

  “From what I hear, Judd has built a whole city,” she said.

  “That’s right, Mrs. Crane,” Merlin said. “Six hundred apartments, one hundred private homes and twelve office buildings. Of course, there are schools, malls, shopping centers and, needless to say, a hospital.”

  Barbara looked at him. “But why here?” she asked. “The company headquarters has always been in New York.”

  “Yes,” Merlin answered. “But if you remember, ten years ago sixty percent of manufacturing was in the East and South. Now forty-five percent is in the West, and only fifteen percent East and South. Microchips and computers grow like weeds in Silicon Valley. We make more wine in Northern California than Italy and France. Aerospace manufacturers are all around the states of Washington, California, Nevada, and Colorado. Projections show us in another ten years our growth will be up five hundred percent.”

  “But a whole city?” she asked.

  “That was an idea Mr. Crane lifted from the Japanese. He saw that all the big Japanese companies—Mitsubishi, Nissan, Asahi, National, Panasonic and Sony—weld their production to their labor by guaranteeing lifetime security from the cradle on.”

  “I wonder if Americans will feel the same way,” she said.

  “We’ll see,” Merlin replied. “But as Mr. Crane says, it’s only an experiment.”

  The car stopped. Merlin stepped out and held out his hand to her. His other hand gestured to the helicopter. “There it is,” he said. “Mr. Crane said that the first one should be named for you.”

  Barbara stood there for a moment. The tears sparkled at the sight of the silver-colored helicopter. The letters were bold across the side: BARBARA ONE.

  9

  “It seems like a college campus,” she said. “They all look like children. I think not a one of them is over thirty.”

  Judd smiled. “Except me.”

  She laughed. “Excuse me.” She took out the plastic card that served as the key to her suite. “Come in for a nightcap.”

  He nodded.

  She opened the door and he followed her. The door closed automatically. She led him to the bar in the living room. “Scotch on the rocks?”

  “No, thanks. I’d prefer a cherry Coke.”

  She looked at him. “That’s something new.”

  “Yes. Alcohol doesn’t do it for me.”

  “But Coca-Cola does?” she asked. “Caffeine and sugar?”

  “Something more,” he said.

  She glanced at him.

  “Cocaine,” he said.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Living is dangerous for your health,” he said. “But the combination keeps me on the qui vive.”

  “I don’t know,” she said questioningly. “I’ve never done it.”

  “I don’t recommend it,” he said. “Just that it works for me. I checked it with my doctor and he said that it’s no worse than alcohol abuse. The idea is to use it carefully.”

  “How do you know when you overdo it?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Your nose falls off.”

  She grimaced. “That sounds terrible.”

  He laughed again. “Okay, then. I’ll have the Scotch.”

  She put the ice cubes into the tumblers and splashed some Scotch over them. He took his glass. “Cheers,” she said.

  “Cheers.” She looked at him. “You’ve taken other drugs?”

  “Of course,” he said. “You have to understand. This is the age of dope and chemicals. Just as my father’s age was the age of beer and alcohol.”

  “You’ve been doing it long?”

  “Since prep school and college.”

  “Funny,” she said. “We never knew it.”

  “I was never at home very much.”

  He crossed to a chair and sank into it. “Tell me about yourself,” he said. “It’s been about two years.”

  “It’s been different,” she said. She sat opposite him. “I’m different.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Do you like what you see?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I now feel you’re yourself. Before, you were a satellite turning around Father.”

  “I didn’t mind,” she said quietly. “I loved him.”

  “I know that,” he answered. He sipped at his drink. His dark-blue eyes looked into hers. “I suppose you’re wondering why I called for you?”

  She nodded silently.

  “It’s time you came back to work,” he said. “I need you.”

  “Need me? Aren’t I a little over age for you?”

  He laughed. “Touché.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Tell me what’s on your mind?”

  “The Vietnam War has Johnson in a box. It will escalate until it blows up in his face. In the meantime there’s a lot of money being made.”

  “I still don’t know what that has to do with me.”

  “General Connally,” he said.

  She was silent for a moment. “Willie?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “I’ve heard they’re bringing him back from NATO and putting him in charge of procuring all weaponry for the Defense Department.”

  “I still don’t know what that has to do with me.”

  Suddenly there was no expression in his eyes. “You’ve been fucking him,” he said. “Pillow talk has sold more weapons than bribery.”

  “He wants to divorce his wife and marry me,” she said.

  “Don’t let him do it,” he said quickly. “That would blow his career out of the box.”

  “And we’d get nothing out of it,” she added.

  “You learn fast,” he said.

  She went to the bar and refilled their glasses. “Just for your information,” she said, returning his glass, “I hadn’t planned to marry him.”

  Judd was silent.

  “Exactly what kind of material are you intere
sted in?” she asked.

  “Armed carrier helicopters. Hughes and Bell are already preparing bids. Armored personnel land carriers. Chrysler and General Motors are working on them. Shallow-draft river craft powered by jet instead of propeller. Jacuzzi and Piaggio are both shipping a few under test conditions.”

  “And that can come to a lot of money?” she asked.

  “Could be several billion dollars.”

  She was silent and had almost finished her drink. “Several billion dollars! That’s good whore’s wages.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “What happened to your ideals?” she asked. “The dreams about immortality?”

  “I still have them,” he said. “But I also have a business that I have inherited and still have to nourish.”

  She took a deep breath. “If your father had asked me I wouldn’t have hesitated because I loved him. And I wouldn’t feel like a whore.”

  “We’re all whores in our own way for our own reasons,” he said. “Power, money, sex, ideals. The commodities of life.”

  “You really believe that?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “You’re wrong,” she said softly. “You forgot the most important thing of all.”

  “What’s that?”

  Tears began to spill from her eyes. “Love.”

  ***

  Sofia glanced up from the medical computer printout. “There’s nothing in here about whether or not you have ever been married.”

  “I’ve never been married,” Judd said.

  She turned her head to one side. “That’s unusual. Usually a man of your age, by forty-two—”

  He interrupted her. “You said that you were thirty and you hadn’t been married. Do you think that’s also unusual?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I had a reason. My profession is very demanding.”

  “Perhaps mine is too,” he smiled. “But I don’t feel denied. Do you?”

  She paused for a moment. “Sometimes,” she said honestly. “I would have married and had children, but it never worked out that way.”

  “You should have married,” he said. “And not just because you love to fuck. You would have given a great deal to your children.”

  Her eyes fell to the computer printout. “According to this, you are in very good health.”

  “That’s due to dissipation and lack of sleep,” he smiled.

  “That’s in spite of it,” she said seriously. She put down the papers. “We’ll have to find time to bring you into a hospital for three days.”

  “The next weekend in Boca Raton,” he said. “We’re due there anyway.”

  “In the meantime there are several tests I have to perform. They won’t take much time.”

  “You’re the doctor,” he said. The telephone beside his chair rang. He listened for a moment. “Send him up,” he said.

  He turned to Sofia. “That’s Li Chuan, he’s Asian sales manager for Crane Pharmaceuticals.”

  She rose from her chair. “I can return to my stateroom if you want to be alone with him.”

  “Meet him first,” he said. “He gave Ginny a selection of shops to check out when we land in Hong Kong.”

  Li Chuan came into the cabin and Judd made the introductions. Sofia smiled. “Thank you for your courtesy.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” He bowed slightly.

  She looked at Judd. “Will I see you ashore?”

  “I’m sorry,” Judd apologized. “I’ll be very busy.”

  “I understand.” She nodded to Li Chuan and left the cabin. The no smoking and the seat belt signs went on as she entered her stateroom. She slipped into her seat.

  Ginny opened her door and came into the stateroom. She glanced at the seats around her. “Mind if I keep you company?” she asked.

  “Not at all.”

  Ginny took the seat opposite and clipped the belt. “Li Chuan has given me a list of some very interesting shops.”

  “I really don’t want to see any of them,” Sofia said.

  Ginny smiled. “Mr. Crane thinks you ought to collect a complete wardrobe.”

  “His ideas and mine are very different. Clothes are not that important to me.”

  Ginny laughed. “Get them anyway,” she said. “He’s the kind of man who wants his own way.”

  “Is he like that in everything?”

  Ginny nodded.

  Sofia looked out the window. The wheels were beginning to touch the ground. A moment later the big plane was running smoothly along the runway. “I don’t know how the pilot does it,” she said. “You don’t even know it when the plane lands.”

  “That’s one of Mr. Crane’s rules. If he feels the wheels touch, the pilot had better have a damn good excuse or start looking for another job.” Ginny rose from her chair. “Shall we be ready to go in fifteen minutes?”

  “Fine,” Sofia replied.

  ***

  As the door closed behind Sofia, Li Chuan asked, “Your Dr. Ivancich is Yugoslavian?”

  “Yes,” Judd said. “How did you know?”

  “I’ve heard the name. She spent time with Mao Tse-tung until he died. There was also a rumor from his wife and others of the Gang of Four that she killed him.”

  Judd was silent. Then he looked out the window. “We had nothing on her computer checkout about that.” He turned back to Li Chuan. “Think you can find something out about it for me?”

  “I can’t tell yet,” the Asian said. Then he laughed. “In the meantime, don’t let her give you any pills.”

  Judd also laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have any problems about that.”

  10

  Judd looked out the window. Below he saw Sofia and Ginny enter the limousine. The telephone rang again.

  Merlin was on the receiver. “Judson is calling you from San Francisco.”

  “Put him through,” Judd said. There was a click. “How are you, Judson?”

  “Good, Mr. Crane. I have some information about the steel for the Malaysian bridge.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Mitsubishi Heavy Industries will give you the steel for six million less, but there’s a kicker. They want you to use their shipping line. That will up the cost about eight hundred thousand.”

  “That’s just from one pocket to another,” Judd said. “Do you have any other ideas?”

  “You’re in Hong Kong,” Judson said. “If you could arrange a meeting with S. Yuan Ling. He has the largest cargo shipping line in the world. And most of his ships have been built for him by Mitsubishi. He has the clout to save us a few bucks.”

  “Last I heard,” Judd said, “he was in Mexico working his oil tanker deal with Pemex.”

  “He’s back in Hong Kong now,” Judson said.

  “Okay, I’ll try him,” Judd said. “Anything else?”

  “Nothing that can’t hold,” Judson said.

  “I’ll be in touch then,” Judd said. He turned to Li Chuan. “You get to S. Yuan Ling and tell him I want to meet him this afternoon.”

  “He only works in the morning,” Li Chuan said. “He takes his lunch on his yacht, swims for an hour and afterward sleeps until dinnertime.”

  “I don’t care if he sits on the crapper for an hour. You tell him that I want to see him.”

  “Yes, sir,” Li Chuan said. “Then I’d better get into town right away.”

  “Okay,” Judd said.

  “What about the pharmaceutical deal?” Li Chuan asked on the way out. Despite the impassive Oriental face, he seemed anxious.

  “You heard my decision. If it’s tied to their Quaaludes, I’m not interested.”

  “The Quaaludes are where the money is.”

  “It may be for them,” Judd said. “But not for us. You can tell them I’ll triple the offer for the interferon, though.”

  “I’ll tell them,” Li Chuan said. “I’ll call you from town the minute I hear from S. Yuan Ling.”

  “Thank you,” Judd said. He watched the Asian leave the lounge, then pressed f
or Merlin. Fast Eddie came in before Merlin arrived.

  “Need a lift, boss?”

  Judd nodded. “That’s an idea.”

  “Cherry Coke an’ all the fixin’s?”

  “You got it.”

  The glass of cherry Coke was on the table as Merlin came into the lounge. He waited until Judd spooned the cocaine into the cola drink. Judd emptied the glass. “That’s the way it was made in Atlanta when they did it first.”

  Merlin nodded. He had heard it many times. Caffeine was substituted for the cocaine sometime in 1903—or was it 1912—by the Food and Drug Act.

  Judd looked at him. “Telex Security for more on Dr. Ivancich. Ask them how come they had no information that the doctor spent a year with Mao Tse-tung before he died. Also have them put a blanket on Li Chuan. I have a feeling he may be trying to make the Quaalude deal for himself.”

  Merlin looked at him. “Yes, sir. Anything else?”

  Judd shook his head. “I’m going to get a nap. Wake me up when Li Chuan sets up a meeting with Mr. Ling.”

  ***

  The French salesgirl looked at them haughtily, spoke in snob accent. “We have the latest magazines—L’Officiel, French Vogue and others. We can make anything you select from any photograph in twelve hours.”

  Sofia replied to the girl in French. The salesgirl nodded for a moment, then gestured for two chairs for them and walked away.

  “What did you ask her?” Ginny said.

  “I told her that we were not interested in haute couture. Everything has to be prêt à porter and we’ve only three hours in Hong Kong.”

  The salesgirl returned with another woman who seemed to be the manager. “What exactly would madame be interested in?”

  Sofia replied in English. “Two simple suits, one in wool, and one in lighter fabric. Three afternoon dresses, one cocktail dress, black, and one long dress, also black. Accessories to match and shoes also to match. Three skirts, one white, beige and black. Six silk shirts, all colors. Two pairs of slacks, one navy blue, one black. Three pairs of jeans.”

  “Yes, madame,” the manager said respectfully. “Would you be kind enough to follow me to a dressing room?”