“I didn’t ask,” she said.
“You never ask.”
He hit the glass with the flat of his hand as if he didn’t care whether it broke or not.
“Enough now, Lynn!” Then he paced to the round fireplace and back. “I want you to cut it out. I want you to shut up about that old and gone business but for good. You know why I’m here and it isn’t you. It was but it won’t be again and you never catch on. Did you hear? I want you to lay off!”
“You want, you want,” she said. It was almost a mumble.
Then she said, “All right, Jackie. I will,” and it looked as if he was rid of her.
“Now back to normal. Remember your friend at Tahoe, that-that Jill whatshername-“
“Jill Timerlane, from Pasadena, Jackie.”
“That’s her. You still friends with her?”
“Of course, Jackie. I wrote-”
“Never mind. You got her phone number?”
“Not here. In the apartment.”
“Can you phone there and get it?”
“Of course, Jackie. Right away.”
She called and the maid answered and she gave Lynn the number.
“Now call up that Jill there. Call her long-distance and tell her about this joke you’re having with a buddy of- with a friend of yours, and that she has to send a telegram for you from L.A. to New York. You got it?”
Lynn nodded.
“Now write this down. The telegram says, ‘Dear President.’ Yeah, yeah, it’s President. All right now, ‘Dear President, sorry about mix-up. L.A. rainy and no smog. Sit tight.’ And sign it ‘Jack Jesso.’ Got that?”
She said yes and read it back to him. He told her to send it to C. Gluck and gave her the address.
He smoked two cigarettes and kept pacing around the crazy fireplace in the middle of the room while Lynn got the connection and tried to break through the small talk. Then she explained about this game she was playing and dictated the telegram. There came more chit-chat and then she hung up. She asked Jesso if she’d done it all right and Jesso said yes, that was fine. She went to the bedroom and lay down. When he looked in a little later she was asleep. He went in and put a blanket over her shoulders. She was asleep so she couldn’t make anything of that.
Jesso went back to the room with the round fireplace and stood by the plate glass. Two more days. He’d look at the bay for two more days and then he’d crawl out of his hole forever. He’d make one more dash, run just once more, and that was going to be the last. Then Renette would be there. The thought of her made the two days seem like standing still forever, but then there would be Renette forever. He had never thought that way before, but he was already used to the thought. Anything else hardly mattered-New York, Lynn, Kator-and if they got in the way, they and their lives would matter little enough.
He held on for the two days, talking little and pacing the room. Then came one more call to Murph, who said the heat was off, mostly, and they were looking for him in L.A. And Lynn. Without saying much, just by looking the way she did, she told him to take her, do anything, and if not she’d always be there. He had nothing to say to her and on the second day the big Stratocruiser barreled off the Idlewild runway and Jesso watched Jamaica Bay shoot by underneath.
Chapter Twenty-two
The room was lit as always, two candelabra and the yellow bulbs over the buffet. It kept the tall ceiling in the dark and made the three figures around the table look like decorations. They ate in silence. In itself, this wasn’t anything unusual, except what they made of it. Kator made a waiting out of it. He’d laid his trap and all he had to do was wait. Jesso would be back, Kator had made sure of that. Jesso would be back because Renette was here and this was Kator’s simple trap. To spring it shut would be even simpler. Kator was on home ground and all he had to do was wait. He chewed his meat, drank his wine. Jesso hadn’t sat at this table more than once, but it almost felt to Kator as if he missed him.
Von Lohe didn’t have a thing to say for once. He sat, not tasting anything and to him the room was like a prison. And Kator had the key. Not Kator, Jesso! If Jesso were here now, then von Lohe would know what to do. Somehow his hate would find direction and all it needed was the moment-and Jesso. It almost felt to von Lohe as if he missed him.
Renette waved at Hofer and had another glass of wine. She tried to pay no attention to the room, the mood, and the two men. It wasn’t really hard. Another fifteen minutes and she would leave. Her plans for the evening had nothing to do with Helmut or with Kator, and both had learned that it didn’t make much difference to her any more what they might say. She still had her old suite behind the bend in the corridor, but that was all. She didn’t live there as von Lohe’s wife and Kator hardly felt that she was still his sister. She looked across the table, past the bouquet, and thought of Jesso, the way he had sat behind the flowers. She thought of him with pleasure; a pleasure without regrets and in the past. She tasted her wine and didn’t miss him.
When von Lohe looked at her she was pulling her napkin through the silver band and placing it next to her plate.
“Johannes,” said von Lohe, “if you are going to follow my suggestion, better speak to her now.”
Kator looked up, trying to understand.
“She’s leaving, I believe.” Von Lohe sounded peevish.
“Oh, yes.” Kator wiped his mouth, looked at Renette. “Before you leave…” and then he waved at Hofer.
Hofer waved at the two servants by the buffet and followed them out of the door.
“Helmut had a suggestion,” Kator said. “A rather good one.”
“Helmut?” She smiled at her husband as if she hadn’t known he was at the table.
“It seems,” Kator said, “that his friend Paul Zimmer is proving difficult. I have not obtained the concessions I want, and Helmut found it hard to apply the pressures on the Zimmer family that are at my disposal. Traditional loyalties, he calls it. But no matter.” Kator sighed. “I’m giving you the assignment, Renette.”
Kator watched her turn her head and for a moment he had the uneasy feeling that she had just noticed him at the table.
“I know nothing about the whole affair,” she said. “Nothing that would help.”
“That’s not the help you are supposed to give,” said von Lohe, and his smile was angelic. His mouth was lewd.
“I see why you didn’t get anyplace,” she said to him.
“Nevertheless, in a way Helmut is correct,” Kator said. He said it without inflection, made it cold and businesslike. Maybe that way he would get Renette back in line. “Zimmer-that is the one we’re after-is only slightly older than you. I’m sure, Renette, there is very little about you that he wouldn’t like.”
“I’m not interested,” she said. “I know him.”
Kator had expected something like that, even though the reason for her refusal confused him. “Nevertheless,” he said, “I am giving the assignment to you.”
Renette wet her lips with her tongue and her wide eyes seemed to go bland.
“Johannes,” she said, “your insults no longer work. I have other plans.”
“She means that-that-Jesso!” Von Lohe waved his arm. He never noticed when he wiped his sleeve through the gravy on his plate.
“Of course, Helmut.” Kator turned back to his sister. “Listen to me, Renette.”
“You’re wrong,” she said.
Nobody believed her.
“Listen to me. I feel I cannot force you, Renette, but as your brother-”
“I know. You’ll try anyway.”
He took it in his stride. His voice got soft, as if he were saying something sad. “Your Jesso, Renette, is like something from another world, a world where your tastes, your kind of life, mean nothing. You understand?”
She did. She knew it.
