problem as well as my boyhood indiscretion. I will most likely lose my appointment and the witnesses will have to be interrogated. My sponsor is a prominent family man. Also with us that night was a school teacher and single parent with a child to support. None of us are ashamed of what we are, but we do have our pride. You will be rocking many boats for no reason. Give it some thought, buddy.”
I was giving it so much thought I couldn’t think. Was he bluffing? If I folded and walked away he wins without showing his hand. If I called him and he laid out a royal flush I’m a skunk. Excuse the old cliche, but it does say it all damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
“Will you give me the names of your witnesses?” I said.
“No,” he responded without hesitation. He appeared to be in control of himself for the first time since entering the car. Looking at his cigarette as if wondering what it was doing in his hand, it followed its predecessor out the window. Perhaps the truth does set one free if he was telling the truth. It was a tough confession to make for a man with the conceit of Richard Cranston. Or was he manipulating me? Could I afford to take another chance or had I taken too many already?
“I have to think about it,” I finally said.
“Thanks.”
“For nada. May I say I admire your courage and wish you well in your new life?”
He smiled his best press-conference smile, obliterating the impudent snob. Which one was the real Richard Cranston? “My new life in sobriety or in England?”
“Why not both?” I answered.
“Before I go, tell me if Harry is involved in any of this. You know he’s dying?”
“And therefore he has carte blanche to commit murder. Sorry, but I won’t tell you the nature of my business with Harry Schuyler. Last time we met we talked about the sacrosanct nature of client confidentiality. It applies to all clients.”
“If you go to the police, you’ll be breaking the rule with this client.”
“As they say, Dickey, damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”
“You missed your calling, Archy, you should have gone into politics.”
On the drive back to the McNally Building I regretted that time did now allow me to present father with the perplexity of Cranston’s alibi.
Would Justice tip her scale in favor of the law or compassion for those brave souls striving to make a new life for themselves and trying to help others along the way? Archy leaned toward compassion, but Archy is a soft touch and is the guy telling the truth?
Herb gave me the high sign from his post in our underground garage.
Today, I did not need Mrs. Trelawney to tell me who had called. On the way to the elevator I paused long enough to report, “Binky’s waffles landed in his lap.”
Unconcerned at having presented Binky with a lethal weapon, Herb told me, Two of Binky’s fingers are wrapped in bandages.”
“Burns,” I said.
“No, Archy. The burns were superficial. Seems he nicked himself on his chopping block. Maybe he should go to a cooking school.”
“I think a reform school is the answer. Did he mention his new lady friend?”
“Mention her? He can’t stop talking about her. She bandaged his fingers.”
Binky Watrous was being buttered and bandaged by his neighbors. How nice. But did he know about the basketball player? I couldn’t wait to tell him.
I called Mrs. Trelawney. Mr. Appleton had called and left a number where I could reach him. It was urgent. Al Rogoff had called and said I should contact him regarding setting up an appointment to meet with the lieutenant in charge of the Sabrina Wright case. Nothing from Harry Schuyler.
Appleton picked up on the first ring. “Archy? Thank goodness. Where have you been?”
“Working, Tom. Some of us do, you know.”
“I must see you. You know why, I’m sure. Where can we meet privately?”
“The PB Institute of Contemporary Art?”
“They’re closed on Monday,” he said.
I thought a moment then asked, “Do you know where L’Encantada is now located?”
“Who doesn’t?” Appleton said.
“Meet me at the site in thirty minutes. It’s still a tourist attraction and we’ll pretend to be one of the gawkers.”
“Fine. I’m on my way.”
L’Encantada is an Addison Mizner mansion that has become one of the wonders of Palm Beach. Built in Manalapan in the roaring twenties, it was destined for demolition last winter when the daughter of a local real- estate investor attended a party in the doomed house and begged her father to save it. Recently divorced and wanting to please his little girl with a grand gesture, he bought the mansion for millions and spent even more millions to have it floated to a new site on Seaspray Avenue and South Ocean Boulevard.
Yes, I said, floated. Like Caesar’s Gaul, the twenty-room house was divided into three parts and each section, one weighing in at four hundred twenty tons,
was hoisted on rollers and pulled with cables along the beach and into the ocean, where they were mounted on barges for the short trip north, where the process was reversed and the house put back together on its new lot. Watching the house come ashore was last winter’s most popular spectator sport. In these parts, the gesture has become the standard by which all devoted fathers will be judged.
Sofia Richmond called before I left my office. “I hear you lost a client,” was her opener.
“You win some and you lose some. What do you hear?”
“It would be easier to tell you what I haven’t heard. Sabrina was after one of our elite. Her daughter was doing the legwork and pretending to be looking for her natural mother. Sabrina is her natural mother and the girl’s father is Prince Philip, Porfirio Rubirosa (remember him?), and Frank Sinatra.”
“All three?” I exclaimed.
“No, Archy. One must choose. I understand the ladies who lunch have gotten up a pool.”
And who are you putting your money on?”
Archy McNally, of course. I’m betting he knows all the answers.”
Smart lady, my Sofia. Very smart. “Put a fiver on Porfirio, Sofia, they say he had…”
“Careful, Archy, this call may be monitored for quality purposes. Did you see Lolly’s obit this morning? He links her with every big name in pants, including you.”
“Me?” I would kill Lolly Spindrift.
‘ “When Sabrina Wright arrived in Palm. Beach just a week ago, the first person she contacted was our own most eligible bachelor, and my dear friend, Archy McNally. Stay tuned to these pages for all the latest developments on the popular author’s murder,” unquote.”
The little twerp. Implying that I was going to tell all for him to pass on to his readers. “Wishful thinking,” I said aloud.
“I thought so,” Sofia said. “How much can you tell me?”
Today, nothing. Tomorrow, the world. Now I have to go, Sofia. I’ll catch you later.”
“That’s the story of my life,” she sighed audibly. Take care, Archy.
Someone out there didn’t like Sabrina and Lolly has made you her confidant.”
I wanted to tell her that everyone had made me their confidant and Lolly had nothing to do with it. I rang off with a promise of taking her to lunch before the week was out.
As predicted, there were a few cars parked near the newly planted stucco and tile Mizner dream cottage. I saw Appleton get out of his BMW convertible and after parking, joined him on the street. Given the venue, it was a perfectly natural place to congregate and chat. Thomas Appleton, however, was anything but natural, unless hysteria is your bag.
“What the hell happened?” he stage whispered as I approached.
We were far enough from the two couples who had stopped to see what the tide had dragged in to speak without being heard. “Someone murdered Sabrina, that’s what happened. Any ideas who did it?”
His Santa jowls glowed. “If you think I did, forget it. It must have been a lunatic.”
