writer of romances.
A few days later, Gillian demanded to know who her father was. Here, Sabrina must have regretted her boasting. She refused to answer Gillian, not only to honor her bargain but also because she didn’t know the answer. When Gillian announced that she was going in search of him Sabrina must have been beside herself with fear. It was a wonder she sat still long enough for Silvester to come down here and try to talk the girl and Zack into returning home.
The waitress brought me my elevenses and it was just what I needed. One cannot think properly on an empty stomach. What I was thinking was that Sabrina should have sat still a little longer before chasing after Silvester. Her meeting with me had precipitated a chain reaction that was taking on all the characteristics of a bedroom farce.
But given the agendas of the concerned parties, this comedy was apt to revert to tragedy before the final curtain. Appleton had the countenance of Santa and Cranston the tolerance of Scrooge, but even Santa was known to deposit coal in a dissident’s stocking, and what wouldn’t Ebenezer do if he learned he had been bamboozled out of a small fortune? Small? Appleton had hinted at how generous he had been. Double it and you’re talking a king’s ransom. But both men would gladly absorb a financial loss if only Sabrina and Co. would go away. And both were hell-bent on not being named father of the year.
Sabrina, for now obvious reasons, was poised to do what she must to keep either man from learning the truth. The situation was a scandal waiting to happen.
My first reaction after leaving Cranston’s mobile office was to call Sabrina and read her the riot act, but now a calmer head and a fuller stomach prevailed. Let the titans do battle while little Archy slipped quietly off into the sunset, body and soul intact. Only Sabrina and Archy knew that Sabrina had played Russian roulette with two loaded pistols, and not even she knew which had fired the blank. But she didn’t know
I knew and I had no intention of telling her I knew. With this crowd, ignorance was not only sublime, it was judicious.
Archy knew too much about these three and Cranston knew too much about Archy. Our government wasn’t the only one to operate on a system of checks and balances.
From this moment on I would be the man that got away and prayed they would never come looking for me. When father returned I would unload my burden; until then I would play the ostrich and bury my head in Bianca Courtney’s sandbox. I paid my check, left a generous tip, and headed for the Palace.
The Palm Beach police headquarters is housed in an edifice that would not be out of place in the hills overlooking the Cote d’Azur. Thus it had been dubbed the Palace by Sgt Rogoff, who labors within the castle walls. The twelve o’clock whistle was about to toot when I parked out front, hoping to catch Al on his way to lunch if he was on desk duty and not patrolling the streets.
Should he emerge with policewoman Tweeny Alvarez I would try to make myself invisible, which is not easy when you’re sitting in a red convertible in front of a police station. Tweeny Alvarez had a thing for Al which I believed was prompted by the fact that he was the only man on the force who could best Tweeny at arm wrestling. I couldn’t tell you if the feeling was mutual because Al wears only his sergeant stripes on his sleeve.
Tweeny is no Tallchief or Callas, but then Al Rogoff is no Nureyev or Domingo, so it was a standoff in the looks and talent department.
However, I didn’t know Tweeny well enough to say who her idols might be. Given Al’s physique and manner, I would take an educated guess that Tweeny’s favorite Hollywood dream boat was either Kong or Godzilla.
Al came out, blinked in the bright sunlight of a Palm Beach summer day, and approached the Miata as if he were about to ticket me for illegal parking. Actually, it’s the way Al approaches everything that gets in his path. “You waiting to be arrested?” he greeted.
“No, sir. It’s take-a-flatfoot-to-lunch day, compliments of the Pelican Club, and your name leaped out of the hopper.”
“That’s what I thought,” he groaned, getting into the car. Al Rogoff getting into my Miata brought to mind the fat lady at the circus squeezing into a girdle. Tell me something, Archy; doesn’t the Grill at the Ambassador Hotel ever have a take-a-cop-to-lunch day?”
“Heavens, no. Besides, you’d be out of place there,” I told him, putting the car into gear and moving off. The Palace and the Ambassador triggered the image of Richard Cranston presenting his credentials to Her Majesty.
“I feel unwanted at the Pelican,” Al complained. “I walk in wearing my uniform and half the guys in the room start looking for the nearest exit. Is the joint a front for a booking parlor?”
“It’s not the uniform, Al, it’s your demeanor. You come on like Eliot Ness entering a speakeasy. Relax. Give the boys a big smile and a friendly wave and see what happens.”
Al folded his arms across his chest and looked at me obliquely. “Screw you, Archy.”
Now the man was sounding more like himself and I took heart. “Tweeny off today?” I ventured cautiously.
“She’s at the range, qualifying,” Al said.
“Is she a good shot?”
“Tweeny? From fifty yards she can knock a flea off a dog’s ear without singeing his fur.”
“Tell me, Al, is there anything Tweeny Alvarez can’t do?”
“Yeah. The dame can’t sit through The Ring of the Nibelung in one take. She gets antsy halfway through Cotter diimmerung.” Al shook his head in disgust.
Poor Tweeny. She probably had been set for a romantic evening with Sinatra singing Mancini and she got Siegfried warbling Wagner. This romance did not bode well.
The Pride of the Pelican, Ms Priscilla, welcomed us with an armful of menus and, “Well, well, the fuzz and the shamus. Are you in hot pursuit or can you stay for lunch?”
“We’ll take the corner table, young lady, and I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head.”
“Oh, cool it, bub, don’t get your Jockeys in a knot. Two malts, as usual?”
“You can.” Sitting, I said to Al, “That girl is a piece of work.”
“You can say that again. I saw the young Lena Home on the tube the other night and she had it all, but you know what? Pris is prettier than Lena.”
“And more sassy.” I picked up one of the menus Priscilla had dropped on our table. “What are you having, Al?”
“I won’t know how much of your money to spend until I know why you got me here.”
I tried to raise one eyebrow as does my august papa and failed.
“Whatever do you mean?”
Archy, we’ve been friends for years and you’ve never invited me to lunch without having me sing for my supper. So what is it you want to know?”
“You really know how to hurt a guy, Al.”
“I hope so.” Al slapped his forehead with the palm of his huge hand.
“Hell’s bells, I forgot to smile and wave. Should I go out and come in again?”
Priscilla arrived with our froth-topped beers in chilled pilsner glasses, perfectly drawn by Mr. Pettibone. With a nod, Al knocked back half the glass, leaving a white mustache on his upper lip, which he carefully shaved off with his tongue. But remember, he can sit through The Ring tetra logy and hum along. How do you figure a guy like this?
“Hamburgers and fries?” Priscilla guessed.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Why not?” Al questioned with indignation.
“Since I all but gave up the weed, I’ve been putting on weight and I have to watch my waistline. Besides, we should be cutting down on red meat. We’re not getting any younger,” I lectured with feeling.
Priscilla let out a chuckle. Take it from me, gentlemen, the bloom is off the rose.”
“That’s not funny,” I told her.
“It wasn’t meant to be.” Remembering her job she recited the afternoon’s special. “Grilled salmon. Very healthy, especially with a tossed green salad.”
I looked across the table at Al who was shaking his head. Man does not live long on hamburgers and fries
