Oh, please.
Dies Saturni, or Saturn’s day, but there was no rest for Archy. I awoke to the sound of a drip, drip, drip, and knew it was a rainy Saturday morn. Good for the merchants on Worth Avenue, bad for the bikini watchers on the beach. I showered vigorously, hot, cold, hot, cold; shampooed my hair and wrapped myself in my hooded white terry robe. Last night, after returning from the Pelican Club, I added an addendum to the last two addenda in my journal, bringing it up to date.
First, “The Man That Got Away,”
second, “The Man That Wouldn’t Go Away third, “And Baby Makes Five.”
After recording in detail my visit to Casa Gran, I had written that Appleton, Cranston, and Schuyler would not rest easy until Sabrina and her daughter departed Palm Beach and disappeared from their lives. In the gray light of a rainy morning I added that this would be only a temporary reprieve, at best. When Sabrina had confided to Gillian the circumstances of her birth she had opened the closet door, exposing the skeleton. It was only a matter of time before someone fleshed out the bones and added a face.
The men would never rest easy until those who could identify Mr. Bones were silenced. Namely, Sabrina and Archy. The kooky part was that neither one of us could make a positive ID. Was it time the men knew this?
I went down to breakfast in shorts and polo shirt. “Do we own a waffle iron?” I asked Ursi.
“I know there’s one someplace, but if that’s what you’re craving this morning, Archy, I don’t have the batter.”
“No, Ursi. I was just wondering. For some reason I woke up with waffles on my mind. Must have been something I ate last night.”
Seeing as the mater and pater were due to dock tomorrow I thought it politic not to mention the number of martinis I had also ingested last night followed by several dark lagers. Before getting into my chariot I had tested my driving capabilities by reciting aloud: Amidst the mists and coldest frosts, with stoutest wrists and loudest boasts, he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghost.
Needless to say I did not miss a beat, flub a word, or wet my chin, therefore I was not hors de combat. I also drew an admiring crowd in the parking lot and remember hearing Reggie Winetroub call out, “How boss.”
Ursi served me a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and tempted me with, “A cheddar cheese omelet is what I had in mind, Archy, with a helping of chilled honey dew to get you started. Just ripened and sweet as sugar, this one is.”
“I’m in your hands,” I surrendered. “Anything new to report on our visiting novelist and her brood?”
“They say she was at the Club Colette last night with her husband and daughter and her daughter’s beau. They say she looked like a million bucks.”
“They’ was Ursi’s version of ‘a reliable source’ and Club Colette was Palm Beach’s version of New York’s El Morocco in the golden days of cafe society. Sabrina didn’t seem to have any qualms about parading her troops on grounds where an Appleton, a Cranston, or a Schuyler might very well be sampling the bill of fare at the next table, but then restraint was not Ms Wright’s forte. It was time to sit down with the lady and shout in her native tongue, “Enough already.”
“A million bucks? In this town, Ursi, that makes her an also-ran.”
“They say her daughter is very plain,” Ursi gossiped while serving my honey dew.
“Her mother casts a long shadow, Ursi. It must be hard for the girl to find her place in the sun.”
Slicing a thick slab of cheddar and breaking eggs, Ursi sighed, “Poor thing. I hope she finds her true mother?”
The trouble was, she had. Ascertaining that Ursi had nothing new to report on the comings and goings of Sabrina Wright and Co.” I inquired after Jamie to divert her from asking me questions regarding the affair I was loath to answer. I learned that, in anticipation of picking up the seafarers in Ft Lauderdale tomorrow, he had taken father’s Lexus to the car wash for a bit of sprucing up. With the rain now falling, Ursi feared it would all be in vain.
“If they give it a good coat of wax,” I said, ‘it will keep its shine.
What time are they docking?”
“Noon, and I’ll be so glad to see them. I miss your mother, Archy.”
“Not more than I do, I’m sure.” The seigneur was also missed, but as he discouraged overt signs of affection you wouldn’t hear it from us.
Like children unattended for too long, we would all be pleased to get back to the familiar and comforting routine of life with father, and I had much to report to his nibs.
“Would you like a toasted bagel?” Ursi asked, expertly flipping the cheddar omelet in its pan.
“I think not,” I declined. “One piece of rye toast for me. I’m watching my diet.”
“Dry or buttered?”
Dry rye toast was indistinguishable from cardboard. “Buttered, please.
This honeydew is good,” I complimented, ‘and make it two slices of rye toast, Ursi, both buttered.”
Back in my room, and far from Ursi’s gaze, I lit an English Oval and inhaled deeply. My first and last of the day barring unforeseen circumstances that would cause me to seek solace from the winsome weed.
Speaking of which, I dialed The Breakers and asked for Mr. Silvester’s suite.
Sabrina picked up after one ring. Did she monitor all incoming calls personally? I believe she did because there was no telling when she would be assailed by an irate voice from the past imploring her to scram.
“Archy McNally here.”
After a long pause she welcomed me with, “I thought we had concluded our business, Mr. McNally.”
“So did I, Ms Wright, but circumstances require that we meet again one rainy Saturday afternoon. May I suggest the Leopard Lounge at the Chesterfield, say high noon?”
“You may suggest it, Mr. McNally, and you may go to the Leopard Lounge some rainy Saturday at high noon, but I won’t be there. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Don’t hang up, Ms Wright. This is important. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry in town is talking about Gillian’s hankering for knowledge of things past. Did you hear me? Every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” We shared another poignant moment of silence. She came back on the line with,
“You are a snooping bastard, Mr. McNally.” “And you are a liar, a cheat, and a con artist, Ms Wright.” She must have liked that because she laughed. “Seeing as we understand each other, I will meet you at the Leopard Lounge, but make it a little later. Only mad dogs and Archy McNally go out in the noonday sun.” “It’s raining out there, in case you haven’t noticed.” “I know it is, but I never let reality come between me and a good line. It’s the secret of my success. One o’clock, give or take, Mr. McNally, and now I must run, a marvelous young man is coming to do my hair. He’s all the rage down here and it’s rumored he was discovered by Virginia Cranston. I just love sharing with Ginny Cranston, Mr. McNally I just love it.” She rang off with a titter and had me grinning like a school boy. Sabrina Wright, you may be a liar, a cheat, and a con artist, but you are irresistible. However, I would suggest she temper her arrogance with caution. The boys of summer were not in a frolicking mood -but Archy was. I called Connie to see what we could get up to on a rainy Saturday night. “Archy,” Connie cried, “I was just on my way out.”
“Not working today, are you?” “No. I’m driving down to Miami to see my cousin. She just had a baby.”
That was strange, I thought, and said as much. “Another? Didn’t she have one a few weeks ago?”
“That was my cousin on the Garcia side,” Connie said. “This is a Mendez cousin, on my mother’s side. She had a boy.”
“How many cousins do you have, Connie?”
“Well, my father was one of nine and my mother has three brothers and three sisters, so I have…”
“I’m sorry I asked,” I broke in. Connie could not only name them all, but tell you their birthdays as well. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”
“No way, Archy. I’
m having dinner with my cousins. They’re all coming to see the new baby.”
“Both sides?” I exclaimed.
“No, only the Mendez cousins. Would you like to come, Archy? You know you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, Connie, but I’ll pass.” Being jostled by two dozen Cubans on a buffet line was not my idea of a romantic evening. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. Why not? I dialed Bianca Courtney.
“Archy here. How were the waffles?”
“Oh, Archy. A disaster. We never had them.”
This was encouraging. “Do tell, Bianca.”
“Well,” she said, ‘we bought a packaged batter and had to mix in eggs and milk. That was okay because Binky now has an electric mixer. It came with a bowl. We heated the iron and poured in the batter, but we must have put in too much because it began to ooze out. Binky went to wipe it up and burned his hand.
I went ballistic and pulled the plug, only I yanked too hard and sent the waffle iron smack into Binky’s groin. Oh, Archy, it was horrible.
Binky was covered with batter and the iron landed on his foot.”
“Are you telling me you killed Binky?”
“No. No. I stuck his hand in cold water and ran to get Sergeant Rogoff.”
“You went to get Al?” I gasped. “Good Lord, what for?”
“He’s a cop, isn’t he? I figured he would know how to treat burns and someone had to get the glop off Binky. It was in an awkward place, if you know what I mean.”
I suddenly remembered that the only job Binky had never held was that of short-order cook. The gods were kind to that boy, in spite of it all. “Did Al help?” I asked.
“Yes. And Mrs. Brewster from across the street. She saw me running for Al and came right over. She put butter on Binky’s hand.”
One hoped that was the only place she put the butter. “A little salt and pepper and you could have had Binky for breakfast.”
“We’re all going to Patty’s Pancake Palace for breakfast. Sergeant Rogoff is driving.”
The episode gave new meaning to the term trailer trash, and Ma Perkins’s Pancake Palace had to be a pit stop for semis. I must remember to tell Binky not to go snoozing when the waffle iron is oozing.
“You certainly had a morning, Bianca. Would you like to step out with me tonight? A movie, perhaps? Dinner? A midnight stroll on the beach?”
“No, thanks, Archy. I’m seeing Brandon tonight.”
And just who is Brandon?” I demanded.
“The basketball player. Remember? A mile high and an inch wide. He’s driving up from Coral Gables just to see me.”
“What happened to the girl who pulled the winning straw?”
“That was over ages ago. I have to go, Archy; Sergeant Rogoff is beeping for us.”
If at first you don’t succeed…
I went back downstairs and asked Ursi, “What are you doing tonight, Ursi?”
“Nothing much, Archy. Just getting ready for the homecoming. Are you going out?”
“No, Ursi, I am not. I decided to stay home and thought we might celebrate our last evening alone. If you prepare the feast, I’ll raid the master’s wine cellar.”
Tine, and how good of you to give up a Saturday night, Archy.”
“My pleasure, Ursi. My pleasure.”
Twenty
The Leopard Lounge afforded me a chance to don khakis and a safari jacket I had purchased from Abercrombie & Fitch before they broke camp on Madison Avenue. I eschewed my pith helmet on the grounds that the jacket said it all and wore instead a more serviceable waterproof tan porkpie.
Sabrina came dressed as a celebrity incognito. Kerchief, enormous dark glasses, and a Burberry trench. Consequently, she was instantly recognized by the lounge lizards. “Did you expect to shoot a leopard, Mr. McNally?” she said as she joined me.
In spite of the flippancy it was clear that the events of the past week had left their mark on the lady. She wore no makeup. Her mouth was drawn, her flawless complexion pallid, and when she removed the glasses I could detect fine lines around those dark eyes, which seemed to have lost their luster. Gone, too, were the theatrical trappings that had so impressed me at our first meeting. The Pink Lady became a Bloody Mary and the exotic black-tipped cigarette was replaced with a Marlboro sans the foot-long onyx holder.
The lady was here on business and she lost no time in getting down to the nitty-gritty. “So you know,” she said when we were served our tomato and vodka.
“More than I care to,” I answered.
“This mess is a result of my hiring you, isn’t it?”
“I beg your pardon, Ms Wright, but this mess is a result of you baring your soul to your daughter and her determination to come down here looking for her father.”
“But had I not contacted you, no one would know what Gillian is up to.”
I didn’t like the accusation and set the record straight. “The wheels were set in motion before I met you. The day before, to be exact. That line in Lolly Spindrift’s column saying you were down here looking for the man that got away was the catalyst. I even suspected you of giving Lolly the lead.”
She inhaled deeply and when she exhaled I sneaked a whiff and checked one of the many safari jacket pockets for my English Ovals. I had left them at home. Her Marlboros lay on the table like a temptress in church but, like a good acolyte, I ignored them.
“Me?” she cried. “Why would I do such a foolish thing?”
“I honestly don’t know. It just seemed to me that everything that could go wrong went wrong from the moment you got here. I was looking for the director and your name came up. Who else knew you had arrived at this hotel when you did and asked for your husband?”
“My travel agent in New York knew when I was arriving, and so did everyone at the hotel who saw me arrive and heard me ask for Mr.
Silvester. Let me assure you, I did not make that call. I came down here to prevent what is happening, not encourage it.” Venting her frustration, she extinguished her cigarette with a series of rapid jabs at the ashtray. “The last time we spoke I asked you why Tom Appleton had thought to call you and you refused to tell me. Will you now?”
“First, tell me how you knew it was Appleton. I never mentioned his name.”
With an annoying wave of her hand she said, “Because he was the first to call me and he told me he had just spoken to you.”
“Have they all contacted you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“And have you seen them?”
Two down and one to go.”
“Which one?” I prompted.
“None of your business, Mr. McNally.”
I had talked to Harry Schuyler last night. He admitted calling Sabrina and said she had agreed to meet him. I suddenly realized the ambiguity of the disclosure. It could mean they had yet to meet or had already done so. I had never thought to ask him so now I could not name the single holdout by the process of elimination. Sabrina made no mention of
Harry’s physical condition and I did not volunteer the information. The guy had a right to confide or not to confide in whom he pleased.
So who was it? On that rainy afternoon in the trendy Leopard Lounge it was all a silly guessing game and one I was weary of playing.
“Okay,” I said. “I had no idea how to go about finding your husband, so I passed the word around that I was working on your behalf to locate your daughter. I said you wanted to prevent Gillian from eloping with a guy you had no use for. I figured anyone who knew anything about Gillian or Silvester might get in touch with me.”
“And they did, didn’t they?” she laughed. Amazing, but the lady never lost her sense of humor. It was an enviable trait.
“First there was the item in Lolly’s column which had all your former flames believing you were after them. When I got into the picture they contacted me to find out if it was true.”
“The fools,” she uttered with contempt.
“Thank you for speaking on my behalf, Mr. McNally, and there are no more, take my word for it.”
The waiter was suddenly hovering over us and not until then did I notice Sabrina had made short work of her drink. “We’ll have two more,” I ordered.
Sabrina picked up the pack of cigarettes and offered one to me. I refused but only after a moment’s hesitation. I struck a match and held it for her. “They are very desperate men, Ms Wright.”
“And thirty years ago I was a very desperate young girl from Brooklyn who came down here on spring break looking for a rich husband. Are you shocked?”
“Hardly. This town is full of young women, and young men, aiming for the same thing. Most of them, like you, miss the mark.”
“Miss? I don’t know about that, Mr. McNally. Three shots in the dark and one direct hit ain’t bad where I come from.” She let out that throaty laugh, and what could I do but join in? Sabrina Wright might be down, but she wasn’t out.
“I’ll admit I spread myself rather thin, but when you get the nod from an Appleton, a Cranston, and a Schuyler, you don’t say no. And how those boys flaunted their pedigree and their wealth. Me, me, me, my, my, my, and I, I, I, was the extent of their conversation, but as Larry Hart said, horizontally speaking, they were at their very best. Would you believe it was once around the block for each of them?”
“I believe you, Ms Wright, because there’s an ancient Chinese saying that reminds us that it takes many nails to construct a crib, and one screw to fill it.”
The waiter brought our seconds and Sabrina saluted my retort. “I must remember that one,” she said. “Well, they all made plans to see me again in New York, and each called when he got there. By then I knew I was in the family way, as we used to say in Brooklyn, and passed on the news to my ardent suitors, who suddenly went limp at the news. Pardon the pun.”
McNally's Chance Page 20
