not like them. You would shrivel and die up there on executive suite.
I've got to find it, Mitzi. It's got to be out there somewhere. David
came out of the bath, his body glowing dull red-brown from the scalding
water and steam rising from him in light tendrils. He pulled on a Terry
robe as he talked and the two girls followed him through to the bedroom
and sat side by side on the edge of the bed, eagerly nodding their
encouragement as David Morgan made his formal declaration of
independence. Mitzi spoiled it, however.
What are you going to tell Daddy? she asked. The question halted
David's flow of rhetoric, and he scratched the hair on his chest as he
considered it. The girls waited attentively.
He's not going to let you get away again, Mitzi warned. Not without a
stand-up, knock-down, drag-emout fight. In this moment of crisis
David's courage deserted him. I've told him once, I don't have to tell
him again. 'You just going to cut and run? Mitzi asked.
I'm not running, David replied with frosty dignity as he picked up the
pigskin folder which held his thick sheaf of credit cards from the
bedside table. I am merely reserving the right to determine my own
future. He crossed to the telephone and began dialling. Who are you
calling? 'The airline. 'Where are you heading? 'The same place as
their first flight out. I'll cover for you, declared Mitzi loyally,
you're doing the right thing, warrior. You bet I am, David agreed. My
way and screw the rest of them.
Do you have time for that? Mitzi giggled, and the dark-haired girl
spoke for the first time in a husky intense voice without once taking
her eyes off David. I don't know about the rest of them, but may I be
first, please? With the telephone receiver to his ear David glanced at
her, and realized with only mild surprise that she was in deadly
earnest.
David came out into the impersonal concrete and glass arrivals hall of
Schipol Airport, and he paused to gloat on his escape and to revel at
this sense of anonymity in the uncaring crowd. There was a touch at his
elbow, and he turned to find a tall, smiling Dutchman quizzing him
through rimless spectacles.
Mr. David Morgan, I think? and David gaped at him.
I am Frederick van Gent of Holland and Indonesian Stevedoring. We have
the honour to act on behalf of Morgan Shipping Lines in Holland. It is
a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. God, no! David whispered
wearily.
Please? No. I'm sorry. It's nice to meet you. David shook the hand
with resignation.
I have two urgent telex messages for you, Mr. Morgan. Van Gent produced
them with a flourish. I I have driven out from Amsterdam especially to
deliver same. The first was from Mitzi who had sworn to cover for him.
Abject apologies your whereabouts extracted with rack and thumbscrew
stop be brave as a lion stop be -ferocious as an eagle Love Mitzi.
David said, Traitorous bitch! and opened the second envelope.
Your doubts understood, your action condoned stop confident your good
sense will lead you eventually on to path of duty stop your place here
