“I don’t get you.”
“You said you were gone two nights.”
“Did I say that?”
“Where were you the other night?”
“What other night?‘
“You were only gone one night?”
“Ah…”
“If you were only gone one night, how come Sylvia the master bedroom?”
“Um…”
“How come she has it, anyway.”
“Who? Sylvia?”
“Were you sleeping with Sylvia?”
“Who, me?”
“You see, Fletch?”
“See what?”
“Don’t give me a hard time.”
“Did I give you a hard time?”
“About Bart.”
“Oh, yeah, Bart the Woman Slayer.”
“He needed help, Fletch.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You know why his wife left him?”
“I heard rumors.”
“Then this girl he wanted to take to Cagna finally refused to go.”
“I know. I found her body. She should have gone.”
“Bart never killed anybody.”
“Andy, one of three people killed Ruth Fryer. I know I didn’t, and Bart tops the list of the other two candidates.”
“Tell me about Sylvia.”
“Sylvia who?”
“Come on.”
“You must have misunderstood something.”
“I did not. You’ve never lost a battle of the street in your life.”
“I haven’t know many Sylvias.”
“What happened?”
“I was raped.”
“That’s nice.”
“Not bad.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me. I think you’ve figured out she wants the paintings as much as you do.”
“She’s not going to get them, is she?”
“I know what she has to offer. What do you have to offer?”
“You know what I have to offer.”
“You’re skinnier than she is.”
“You like that. Skinny.”
“Did I say that?”
“Once or twice.”
“Was I telling the truth?”
“One never knows.”
“We’re doing an awful lot of talking. For two friends who haven’t seen each other in almost a week.”
“I’m not used to making deals in bed.”
“Oh. Then feel sorry for me.”
“Why should I feel sorry for you?”
“I was raped. I need to got my sexual confidence back.”
“You have it back. I can feel it.”
“See how much good you’ve done already?”
Thirty-four
Fletch went into the den to answer the telephone after a second helping of scrambled eggs and sausage.
It was past ten, and Sylvia apparently had gone out earlier to follow her own investigation, which, Fletch guessed, meant walking through Boston’s private galleries with the list of de Grassi paintings in her hand.
It was finally, a cloudless October day.
At breakfast, Fletch and Andy had decided to spend the day walking the old streets. She said she would show him his American history.
He worried about the moon.
It was Horan.
“Mister Fletcher, I was able to get Mister Cooney on the phone last night, too late to call you back.”
“That was very considerate of you. I did go to bed early.”
“There was little point in rushing to you with the news anyway.”
“Oh?”
“He says he won’t respond to your new offer for the Picasso, either. Contrary to my advice to you, he says you’re not even in the ballpark.”
“Did you remind him he has eight kids to feed?”
“He said he is looking for upwards of a million dollars for the painting.”
“Hungry kids. I thought beef was cheaper in Texas.”
“That’s the lay of the land. I don’t know if you want to go further with this negotiation, but I expect you’ll want to think about it.”
“Would you? I mean, would you go further?”
“I think I would. I think I’d make another offer for it. Of course, I have no idea how much of your resources you want to tie up in a single property.”
“Will you make another offer, if I don’t?”
“Mister Fletcher, I think I made a mistake there—one for which I apologize—an indicating to you I might be interested in purchasing this painting if you don’t. I’m your broker, in this case, and a client should never feel he would be in a position where he must bid against his own broker.”
“I was wondering about that.”
“I was greatly mistaken. What I meant was, if this negotiation between you and Cooney doesn’t work out, after a decent interval of time—and it would be a long, decent interval—I might reopen negotiations with Mister Cooney on my own, or even, conceivably, in behalf of another client.”
“I see.”
“As long as you leave your negotiation with Mister Cooney open, you will not be bidding against me, or any other client of mine, even potentially. I will continue to give you my best advice, to make your negotiation successful.”
“And what’s your advice now?”
“First, I think you should think about it. No reason for being too swift in these matters. After you consider your own resources, and the very real question of how much of those resources you want committed to a single property, I’d make a new offer, if I were so inclined.”
