She was on her feet with a sense of rising excitement, and she felt in an instant much better than she had been feeling.
Feeling so good, and now having no longer such a pressing need of a clear head, she went inside and mixed three martinis and brought them out and drank them.
CHAPTER 13
“Sugar,” Sid said, “last night I was thinking and thinking, and finally I thought of something enlightening.”
“Is that so?” I said. “I’ve been thinking and thinking too, and the result has been almost precisely the opposite.”
I looked out the window into the yard beneath the spreading trees. The grass was dark green and cool-looking and inviting, and I wished I could go out and roll in it like a dog. It was my third day in jail, and I was tired of it. I wanted to go home.
“Well,” she said, “this enlightening thing is something that was said, and it was said, moreover, directly to you. I don’t want to be excessively critical, sugar, but it does seem to me that a lawyer should be a little more capable of analyzing things and seeing their significance and all that. Do you suppose you would have done better to be something else?”
“It’s often occurred to me. Just recently, you’ll remember, I went through a brief period of wanting to be a soldier of fortune or a deep sea fisherman or a Left Bank bum. Never mind that, however. Please tell me what was said that you’ve thought of that’s enlightening.”
“I suppose I must, if you can’t think of it yourself. To begin with, I’ve been greatly puzzled as to why Beth Thatcher was fooling around making a date with my husband when she should have been attending to more important business. It just didn’t seem sensible, and that’s all there was to it.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“Then early last night I was out on the back terrace feeling depressed and lonely, and I suddenly remembered Rose Pogue and Zoroaster and the discussion group, which meets tonight. I couldn’t possibly go, because of you in jail, and everything being in such a mess, and so I called Rose and told her I couldn’t, and that got me to thinking about the telephone conversation you had with Beth, it being the same night I went to Rose’s, and all at once, after I had thought for a while, it was perfectly clear to me why Beth had neglected her business to make a date with you.”
“Was it? Is it? Not to me. Why?”
“Because she didn’t.”
“Didn’t? Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t make a date with you.”
“I’m sorry to be contrary, but she did. She called me on the telephone. I was drinking gimlets and listening to Death and Transfiguration at the time. I’ve told you and told you and told you.”
“I know, sugar. I know someone called you, that is. But what makes you so positive it was Beth?”
“Because she said it was.”
“Anyone could have said it. That doesn’t make it so.”
“Look, Sid, it won’t do. Honestly it won’t. Beth had a voice that sounded like an invitation to bed if she so much as asked for a light. There was no other voice like it that I ever heard, and I’d have recognized it any time, anywhere.”
“Please don’t be so obtuse, sugar. You have scarcely covered yourself with distinction in this matter up to now, as I’ve pointed out before, and it’s time you made a special effort to do a little better. Surely you can see that the unusual quality of Beth’s voice is precisely the thing that would make it so easy to imitate. I mean, a common sort of voice would be quite difficult, really, but almost anyone with a little effort could do Donald Duck or Tallulah Bankhead.”
“Are you saying that someone called me and pretended to be Beth?”
“Yes, sugar. It explains other things and must be true.”
“What makes you think it’s true? You haven’t given me any reason yet.”
“I was in hopes you’d get it without my help. It would restore my confidence in you somewhat if you could. Can’t you? Really try.”
“Damn it, Sid, cut it out. I’m in no mood to match wits with you this afternoon. I concede defeat.”
“Oh, well, it’s evident that you are determined not to see what is perfectly clear. I may as well tell you, I suppose. It was what was said about Rose Pogue that makes me sure it was not Beth Thatcher who said it. I’m ashamed that I didn’t understand it sooner.”
“All I can remember being said about Rose Pogue was that a conference with her might go on and on forever. That was after I had said you’d gone over to talk with her about Zoroaster and had left me alone.”
“There! You see, sugar? You only needed to make a genuine effort, and you thought of it right away. You are not really so obtuse as you sometimes seem.”
“Thank you. Now that I’ve thought of it, perhaps you’ll tell me what the hell in particular it means.”
“Why, sugar, how could Beth Thatcher have possibly known that Rose is so talkative and goes on and on forever about matters in detail? After all, Beth Thatcher left town seven years ago, and Rose only came three years ago, when she was hired by the Board of Education to teach second grade, and it was therefore clearly impossible for Beth to know Rose at all, or anything whatever about her.”
She was sitting on the long table with her legs hanging over the edge, and her eyes were bright with pride and excitement. I had been standing facing her, but now I felt limp all of a
