Sofia guessed. “I’m sure Fast Eddie told you something about me.”
“Yes.”
“Then you can tell me what I have to know,” Sofia said. “I’m not simply being curious. Dr. Sawyer asked me to give my opinion and the more I learn about Mr. Crane, the more I can help him.”
Mae didn’t meet her eyes. She looked down at the tiled bathroom floor. “Mr. Crane has about three girls come over from the mainland each week. They usually stay a night or two and then they go back.”
“The same girls all the time?”
“No,” Mae said. “Always different. No girl ever comes back again.”
Sofia was silent for a moment. “And did he give this style of dress to each one of them?”
Mae nodded.
“Color?”
“Always white, all the same. They come from Paris. Two dozen at a time.”
Sofia was silent.
“You won’t say anything about what I told you, ma’am?” Mae asked.
“Not to anyone,” Sofia said. She slipped the straps from her shoulder and began to move the dress down to the floor, then stepped out of it. She picked it up and handed it to Mae.
“Then you’re not going to wear it?” the maid asked.
Sofia looked at her. “You press it,” she said. “I’ll decide later after I’ve had a bath and relaxed. I’ll call you.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Sofia put on her robe as the maid left the room. She thought for a moment and then opened the middle drawer of the dresser. The vial was exactly where Fast Eddie said it would be. She felt her head clear after the cocaine.
She picked up the card that had come with the dress. She looked down at Judd’s handwriting. It was strange. Why should he lie to her? There was no reason to say anything about the dress except that he wanted her to wear it. Sawyer was right. Judd had changed. Before, he could never lie—not to her, not to anyone.
She sat thoughtfully on the side of the bed. Slowly she went through the steps of the treatments that Judd had undergone. There were so many of them. Any one of them could have fucked up his head. She reached for a cigarette and lit it. She let out the smoke slowly. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t know. And perhaps no one would ever know. Not even Judd himself.
***
The house was a geodesic dome faceted like an enormous diamond, reflecting light into the dark of night. The limousine slowly came to a stop, then Max turned off the motor. Sofia called to him from the back seat. “I don’t see the entrance.”
“It’s there, all right, Doctor,” Max said respectfully. “You’ll see.”
A moment later, the hum of a motor came from underneath the car. Through the driver’s window, she saw two giant glass doors slide open; she realized the car was moving slowly toward the open doors. “An electrical driveway?” she asked Max.
“Yes, Doctor,” Max answered. “Really a turntable. So automobile emissions don’t get into the air filter system.”
She watched the glass doors close behind the car and the turntable stop before an inside doorway. Max got out of the car and opened the passenger door for her. She stepped out. The doorway slid open and Fast Eddie came down the three steps to meet her.
He smiled at her. “Rested a little, Doctor?”
“A little,” she nodded.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll take you up to Mr. Crane’s apartment.”
“What time should Max return for me?” she asked.
“That’s no problem,” Fast Eddie replied. “We always have cars and drivers on duty.”
The entrance hall was a large, white-walled round room. The floor was white marble, the receptionist’s desk stood on stainless steel supports, also topped with white marble. The man behind the desk wore a white mess jacket and white slacks. She noted the bulge under his left shoulder that covered his gun. She thought she caught a curious glance in his eyes before he turned to the desk and pressed a button on the panel built into the desk. She heard the door behind her close.
There were three more glass-paneled doors in the room, one on each side of the receptionist, and one behind him. They were all one-way glass so she could not see through them. There were two statues between each of the doors. Almost life-size, white marble on stainless steel bases, Apollo and Venus, or perhaps Adam and Eve, they stood looking toward each other over the eternity of time.
Fast Eddie guided her to the door on the right. He nodded to the receptionist, who pushed another button and the doors opened to an elevator. Fast Eddie followed her into the elevator and pressed a sensor button. The doors closed and the elevator began to rise. She could look down at the receptionist until he was lost below the floor.
She turned to Fast Eddie. “Do I look peculiar?” she asked. “I thought that the receptionist gave me a strangely curious glance.”
“It was your sari,” he answered. “He was surprised by all the colors. Usually everyone wears white here.”
She looked at him. Even he was wearing a white mess jacket and slacks. “What’s the reason?”
“Mr. Crane likes it. It’s clean and sanitary. And he also feels that if we all wear the same color and the same style, it prevents ego competition among the personnel.”
“And the visitors?” she asked. “Is that why he sent the white dress to me?”
“I didn’t know that he sent you anything,” he answered.
But she knew that he was not prepared to answer all her questions. She looked through the glass doors at the next floor. There was a receptionist seated there also. “What floor is this?” she asked.
“Communications, business administration offices and the computers.” He continued. “The main floor where you entered has the personnel apartments and living quarters. The theaters and recreation rooms are on the first basement level, the second basement level is the clinic, the final basement level is all the power equipment to maintain the building. Mr. Crane’s apartment is on the top floor, the third. He has everything there. Bedroom, bathroom, gymnasium, living room, dining room, kitchen, bar and library, and his own private office.”
She was silent for a moment. “In a kind of way,” she said, “it’s very much like the plane, only bigger.”
“Something like that,” he nodded. He looked at her.
“Care for a toot?”
She met his eyes. “Think I need it?”
“It can’t hurt,” he said. He held the vial out to her and watched her lift the spoon to her nose. “Take a good one,” he urged. “This is a strange world you’re entering.”
She returned the vial to him, and the doors opened before she could question what he meant.
4
The sound of a sitar echoed softly through the apartment as they emerged from the elevator. Fast Eddie led her to the library bar. Two small-cushioned couches were separated by a cocktail table. He gestured toward one of the couches and walked to the bar. A few moments later he returned with a large silver tray and placed it on the table before her. She looked down. A kilo can of caviar was surrounded by shaved ice. To one side of the caviar was an open bottle of Cristale, next to an open bottle of Starka vodka frozen in ice; on the other side were all the trimmings—thin toast, onions, white and yellow chopped egg, sour cream, butter. He looked down at her.
“Vodka,” she said.
The thin glass was also iced. Quickly he filled it. He placed it on the table before her. “Mr. Crane will be with you in a few moments,” he said, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She looked out the windows before her. A white full moon painted a sparkling path along the ocean. It was beautiful. So beautiful it didn’t seem real. She picked up her glass of vodka.
“Nasdrovya.” His voice echoed through the speakers.
“Nasdrovya,” she replied almost automatically, swallowing her drink. Then she looked around the room. It was still empty. “Do you hear me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s been a long time,�
� she said. “I would like to see you.”
“I can see you.”
“That’s not fair,” she said. “I can’t see you.”
“Why didn’t you wear the dress I sent?”
“It was too small, I couldn’t fit into it,” she said. “Perhaps three years ago I might have, but not now.”
He was silent.
“Will you be long?” she asked.
“Not long,” he said. “There are buttons beside your chair for the television set.”
“I don’t need it,” she said. “The moonlight on the sea is beautiful to look at. I’ll wait.”
A click came through the speakers and the music of the sitar began playing. She filled her glass once more and sipped it. Suddenly she felt hungry, so she began to help herself to the caviar and toast. She finished four slices of toast and had three more vodkas before he came into the room.
She rose from the couch. Her head felt light. “I think I’m slightly drunk,” she said.
He smiled at her and kissed her, then held her elbow. “In that case,” he said, “you’d better sit down again.”
“What’s in that vodka?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Nothing,” he answered. “You’ll feel better once you have some food.”
“You’re looking very well,” she said. His dark full hair was shot through with gray, his dark cobalt eyes shone in his deeply tanned face. He wore a white silk open-throat shirt, white slacks and moccasins.
“You look well, too,” he said.
“I’ve gained some weight,” she said. “More carbohydrates than protein in my diet. But that’s because you can’t get much variety in Bangladesh. Everything is basically a rice dish.” She spread caviar over another slice of toast. “Not quite like this.”
He smiled, sitting opposite her. “I imagine.”
“May I help you?” she asked.
“No, thank you. Too much salt for me,” he answered.
“I’m curious,” she asked. “How did you find me in Bangladesh?”
“Simple,” he answered. “Your name came up on a hospital order from Bangladesh where you work. All the hospital orders to Crane Pharmaceuticals are put on the computer. All names are then cross-indexed. They get transferred to my personal file if the name is connected.”
“I though you checked with the KGB,” she said.
“No. Nothing as complicated as that.”
“Why did you want to see me?” she asked.
“The files,” he said. “Dr. Zabiski had given me only part of them. I have none of her records before 1953.”
Sofia was silent for a moment. “I don’t understand it. I spoke to her the day before she died and she told me that she had given everything to you.”
“Then she left something out,” he said. “We still don’t have the answer.”
“She said that to me, too. What she told me was that she gave you all the tools. She said that you were going to have to find the answers.”
“I’ve gone over everything with all the experts,” he said. “Zero.”
She took a deep breath. “The old bitch!” she said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s had all of us. You, me, even Andropov. She’s laughing at us from her grave.” She looked at him. “Don’t you see it yet? She intended for us to meet again. After all, I’m the only expert left for you to work with.”
He looked at her silently.
“You sent for me, didn’t you?” she asked. She didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s back to square one. We’ll have to begin all over again.”
“Is that why you went to Bangladesh?” he asked.
“Part of it,” she said. “But also because Andropov wanted me out of Russia and Yugoslavia.”
“Because Brezhnev died just as Mao had?” he guessed.
Her eyes met his evenly. “I had nothing to do with the death of either of them.”
“But does Andropov know that? Mao died. You were his attending physician. Brezhnev died. Again, you were his attending physician. Now, according to our information, Andropov is ill. But he does not call on you for himself as he did for the others. Perhaps he has lost faith in you.”
She still met his eyes. “I don’t know what he thinks,” she said calmly. “He has not taken me into his confidence.”
“A long time ago,” he said, “Zabiski told me that in their time they all die. That there were no guarantees. That all she could do was help the quality of their lives.”
“She told that to me also.”
“Yet she led me to believe,” he began, but his voice trailed off.
Sofia smiled gently. “Maybe she thought that you could succeed where she could not.”
A knock came from the door and Fast Eddie came into the room. “Dinner is served,” he said.
***
The dining room was not large. A thick glass table was supported by clear Lucite legs shaped like thin rectangular blocks of ice. A single spotlight in the ceiling above the center of the table threw facets of color through the glass. The table was round and could seat six but only two places were set. The place mats were rectangular mirrors and the sterling silver serving plate was matched by the silver cutlery. A white linen napkin was held in a silver ring, the glassware was simple but elegant Baccarat. To the right of each place setting a low white candle was held by a Baccarat candlestick. The chairs were framed in stainless steel, the seats and backs of soft comfortable white cloth.
She was seated across from him. She could see the windows behind him and the moonlight still spilling onto the sea. He turned a rheostat next to his seat and the lights dimmed around the room until the only lights left were those on the table reflecting on their faces.
She smiled. “It looks like a movie set.”
He laughed. “It was a set designer who made it. I like the feeling of drama. Usually dining rooms are dull and unexciting, just stalls to ingest food. But there are also other senses that need satisfying.”
“I never thought of that,” she said. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I hope the dinner gives you as much pleasure.”
“I’m sure it will,” she said.
She heard a door behind her open. Two maids came in, each wearing sheer white shirts and short white miniskirts falling just to the top of their thighs, setting a contrast between the black of their skin and long legs. They looked so much alike as to have been twins: long hair flowing over their shoulders, each wearing a small triangle cap, sparkling eyes and white shining teeth. White lace gloves covered their hands. At the same moment, each maid placed the first course in front of them and left the room.
“Pretty girls,” she said.
“Of course,” he answered. “Would you expect anything else?”
“American?” she asked.
“No,” he answered. “They are from Mauritius. My agent there has sent them under a two-year contract. Six of them.”
“They seem very young?”
“Sixteen and seventeen,” he said. “They speak French and English and are very anxious to learn and to please.”
“And when the contract is over what happens?”
“They go back and we bring in others.”
“That’s very good for you,” she said. “But do the girls get anything?”
“Education, knowledge and a respectable sum for their dowry. They are very pleased.”
She smiled. “As they say in America, you have everything organized.” She lifted her fork and tasted the shrimp cocktail. “These are delicious.”
“Baby shrimp, flown from the Gulf of Mexico this morning,” he said. “They’re the best.”
“Everything you have is the best,” she said.
“You’re being sarcastic,” he said evenly.
“No,” she said. “Really, I’m not. I’m just overwhelmed.”
He was silent.
“You have to understand,” she said. “Yesterday I was in Bangladesh, to
day I am here. It’s another world.”
The dinner was very American. Prime rib of beef, medium rare, sliced thin. Mashed potatoes and gravy, peas and salad. The wine was French. Montrachet with the shrimp, Château Margaux with the beef. Dessert was vanilla ice cream topped with a spoonful of crème de menthe.
She looked at him. “I’ve almost forgotten that people could enjoy food so much.” But at the same time she noticed that he had eaten very little; mainly he seemed to be pushing the food around his plate.
“You’re welcome,” he said, rising. “We’ll have coffee and liqueurs in the library.” He came around the table and held the back of her chair, looking down at her. “You’re still a very pretty lady,” he said.
“That, too, I have forgotten,” she said. “I was beginning to feel old next to those beautiful children.”
“That’s something else,” he said. “You’re a woman. Very real and exciting. They’re children playing games.”
5
A silver coffee set stood next to the demitasse cups on the cocktail table as they returned to the library. A smoky bottle of cognac with two snifters was placed between them. Judd looked down at Sofia as she sank into the couch. “Coffee?” he asked.
“Please.”
He poured a cup for her. “Cognac?”
“Would you mind if I stayed with the Starka?”
“Not at all,” he said, snapping his finger. Fast Eddie came into the room. “The Starka,” Judd said.
“And the goodies?” Fast Eddie asked.
Judd looked at her. “We have grass, cocaine, uppers, downers, mind expanders and anything else you can think of.”
“I can’t think of anything,” she said. “The only thing we had in Bangladesh was hashish.”
“I’m sure there was opium,” he said.
“Yes,” she answered. “But that was for dreaming and sleeping. I didn’t care much for it.”
“We have some opiated grass that can really give you a high. It will expand your consciousness almost like acid, but it will be sweet dreams, no bad trips and, most of all, you will be in control and not fall asleep.”
“That sounds interesting,” she said. “How long does it last?”
“As long as you want it to,” he said. “I told you that you would be in control. You can turn it off the moment you want to.”
Descent from Xanadu Page 19
