That, of course, was my call. But when I met with Sabrina she told me she was seeing the last of the Mohegans that evening so the assignation was set before yesterday. “That was me,” I admitted. “I had a drink with her yesterday afternoon.”
“Thanks for sharing, but we already know,” Al said.
“The husband told us she saw you yesterday afternoon.”
“Did you think I wasn’t going to tell you? That hurts, Al.”
“It hurts me, too, Archy, but we have to know where we stand. It’s my job.”
That made me feel better about holding out on Al. It was my job, too.
“Was anything taken?” I wondered aloud.
“This is strictly confidential,” Al said. “Her purse was emptied and she was stripped of her jewelry. According to her husband, she wore a diamond and sapphire necklace and matching earrings that night as well as her engagement and wedding rings, but she wasn’t done in for the loot. We ain’t got no highway robbers on Island Road.”
I littered the Publix parking lot with the butt end of my English Oval, at which point Al reverted to character and reached into his shirt pocket to bring out his adult pacifier. The stub of a chewed-up cigar.
“By the way, Archy, even if the husband didn’t tell us she met with you yesterday, we would have known.”
“Really? How?”
“Rumor was, she was having drinks at the Leopard Lounge with a guy in a safari jacket. So who would wear a safari jacket to the Leopard Lounge but Archy McNally?”
“I have imagination, Al.”
“You have a pair, Archy, that’s what you have. So what did you and the lady talk about?”
“Off the record?”
“Way off.”
I took a deep breath and resisted lighting up again. “You know Lady Cynthia Horowitz, Connie’s boss.”
“I know her only too well, Archy. What has she got to do with this?”
“Nothing. She’s thinking of writing her memoirs and she wanted to meet with Sabrina Wright to get some pointers from a bestselling author.
Lady Cynthia heard I was in contact with Sabrina Wright, and she asked Connie if I would put in a word for her. As a favor to Connie I tried, but got no place.”
Al took the stub out of his mouth. “When you write your memoirs, Archy, leave me out, okay?”
“Your wish is my command, Sergeant.”
“Now scram. I gotta get washed and head back to the palace.”
“Before we part can you tell me what the family was doing while Sabrina went driving under the stars?”
He thumbed his notes once again. “They had dinner downstairs at The Florentine. Bet it cost a week’s salary. After, they all went to their own rooms. Sabrina left and Silvester read. There was a ball game on the TV. Mets from New York, I believe, and Ward wanted to see it but the girl, Gillian, didn’t. She stayed in her room and watched a film instead. They didn’t get together until Silvester called about his missing wife. Why do you want to know?”
“Curious, that’s all. Thanks, Al. Did you enjoy your pancakes yesterday?”
“No. Between your boy and Bianca the Palm has become a battle zone.
Mrs. Brewster thinks the management should keep a nurse on call. I think a nursemaid would be a better idea. I hear Bianca introduced you to Tony Gilbert. What did you think of him?”
“More your type than mine, Al.”
“Screw you, Archy. Now vamoose, I gotta go.”
I had the car door opened before I remembered my promise to Simon Pettibone. “One more thing, Al. Henry Peavey. Anything turn up?”
“Who?”
“Henry Peavey. Mrs. Pettibone’s mysterious cousin in California. You said you would see if you could get a line on him.”
Al tapped his forehead with one finger. “Sorry, pal. Forgot all about it, and right now I can’t say when I’ll get to it.”
“Get some rest,” I told him. “Henry Peavey can wait.”
Twenty-Two
It was Christinas in July. For Ursi there was perfume by Chanel. For Jamie, a cardigan sweater in loden cashmere. For Hobo, a leather collar tooled with banana trees. For Archy, a lemon-yellow sports jacket in raw silk.
“Your mother spotted it,” father said, ‘and insisted it was made for you. I wonder why?”
“And look what I got,” mother exclaimed, holding out her hand to display a lovely tennis bracelet circled with brilliants. “It was very expensive but your father insisted.”
“It was her reward for being such a good sailor,” father told us. “I had chronic mal de mer while her team won the shuffleboard championship. Mother also managed to win a few hearts. The gentlemen were very attentive and their wives furious.”
“Don’t believe him,” mother said with a shy smile.
There was no doubt but that the trip was a rousing success, the voyagers returning rested and in good spirits. Mother’s florid complexion, which kept us so concerned, had not disappeared but it was less evident thanks to a very healthy-looking tan. The dispenser of all this largesse had not left himself off the receiving end. Jamie had to unpack as many fancy liqueurs as one could legally purchase at their duty-free ports of call.
Mother inspected her garden and pronounced her begonias alive but little else. “I don’t think Martha talked to them,” she complained of the woman who had attended the plants. “Oh, she did a good job, but they do enjoy being spoken to. Tomorrow they will know I’ve returned.”
Tomorrow the begonias would be begging for earplugs.
By cocktail time things had calmed down and the McNally family was back to their familiar routine. We gathered in the den where father poured and stirred and served as mother smiled approvingly, and I raised my glass in a toast. “The best present you brought us is yourselves, back home safe and sound.”
“Why, Archy, how lovely,” mother applauded.
“Thank you, Archy,” father said unbending as far as the Chairman of the Board would ever unbend. “I trust you’re not going out tonight as I’d like to confer with you after dinner.”
“I thought as much, sir, and made no plans.”
Being on the ship-to-shore with Mrs. Trelawney daily, it was not office matters father needed to be advised of. Jamie had apparently had a chance to tell him of my involvement with Sabrina Wright. They say thoughts have wings and ours must have touched down on mother’s shoulder.
“Did you hear about the writer Sabrina Wright?” she exclaimed. “It was all the talk at breakfast. The ship’s newspaper put out a special edition to make the announcement. I can’t tell you how many of the ladies had brought her latest book along for leisure reading. What have you heard, Archy?”
We tend to keep the more harrowing aspects of my business from mother as it only aggravates her hypertension. However, rather then lie to her, which would be undignified, we simply soften the rough edges or omit the more sordid details. In keeping with this edict I readily admitted, “I met Sabrina Wright shortly after she arrived here.”
“Really, Archy? How exciting. Was it at a book signing?”
“I would be more interested in hearing about Binky’s housewarming party,” father insisted. “Did he like my gift and how many more did he receive?”
Always amiable to forgo a celebrity for a friend, mother started in her chair, “Oh, yes. Mrs. Trelawney told us Binky now has his own apartment. Tell us all about it, Archy.”
I regaled them with life at the Palm Court until Ursi announced dinner.
It had been a long day for the travelers who were looking forward to retiring early in a bed not bolted to the
