For Kansas City. How does that grab you?'
'I love it. Any mention of a woman skedaddling along with him?'
'I struck out there. Everyone says he was a loner, just like in Dallas. Plenty of women, but no one resembling Helene Pierce the way you described her. That's all I've got so far.'
'Greg, I've received your hourly bills and sent them on to the Company. But you didn't list the expense of all the long-distance calls you've been making or your modem time. The Company will pay for that.'
'They are. I'm using their access codes.'
'You stinker! Did you invade their computers again?'
'Nah. Listen, you can buy a long-distance access code on the street for five or ten bucks. But I didn't even have to spend that. Your Company's access codes are listed on an electronic bulletin board I use. I picked the numbers up from that. Well, I'm going to start on Kansas City now. I'll let you know how I make out.'
'Please. As soon as possible.'
'Nice talking to you, lady.'
Dora hung up smiling and then jotted a precis of Pin-chik's information in her notebook. She sat a moment recalling her initial reaction to Turner and Helene Pierce: supercilious people with more aloof pride than they were entitled to. It was comforting to learn that Turner was apparently a two-bit lowlife scrambling to stay one step ahead of the law.
She glanced at her watch, then took a look in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. She was wearing the one 'good' dress she had brought from Hartford: a black silk crepe chemise that wasn't exactly haute couture but did conceal her tubbiness. She fluffed her red hair and vowed, again, that one of these days she was going to do something with it. Then she went down to the Bedlington cocktail lounge, hoping Felicia Starrett wouldn't be too late.
Surprisingly, she was already there, sitting at a corner table and sipping daintily from a tall pilsner of beer.
'Surely I'm not late,' Dora said.
The woman looked up at her. 'What?' she said.
'Have you been waiting long?'
Felicia shook her head. 'I'm out of it, Nora.'
'Dora. What's wrong? Are you ill?'
No reply. Dora looked at her closely. She was thinner, drawn. The cords in her neck were prominent enough to be plucked. Her nose had become a knuckle, and her stare was unfocused.
Dora went over to the bar and ordered a beer. While she waited, she observed Felicia in the mirror. She was sitting rigidly and when she raised the glass to her lips, her movements were slow, slow, as if she had planned every motion carefully and was dutifully obeying her mind's command.
She was wearing a belted cloth coat, buttoned to the neck although the cocktail lounge was overheated. And she had not removed her soiled kidskin gloves. She was hatless; her long black hair appeared stringy and unwashed.
Dora carried her beer back to the table. 'Would you like something to eat?' she asked, taking the chair opposite. 'Perhaps a sandwich?'
'What?'
'Are you hungry?'
'No,' Felicia said, and looked about vaguely. 'Where am Ir Dora wasn't certain how to handle this. Felicia didn't appear drunk or high on anything else. But certainly she was detached. The woman was floating.
'The cocktail lounge of the Hotel Bedlington,' Dora said. 'I'm Dora Conti. Thank you for meeting me for a drink.'
'A cigarette,' Felicia said.
Dora fished a crumpled pack from her shoulder bag. But when she offered it, Felicia made no move to take a cigarette. Dora put the pack on the table.
'I see you're drinking beer,' she said as lightly as she could. 'No Chivas Regal today?'
The woman looked at her blankly. She said, 'That's for me to know and you to find out.'
Dora was shocked by this childish response. 'Felicia,' she said, 'is there anything I can do?'
'About what?'
'Are you feeling all right?'
'I will be.' She paused and slowly the focus of her eyes changed until she was actually looking at Dora. 'I'm getting married,' she said suddenly. 'Did you know? Of course not; no one knows. But I'm getting married.'
'Why, that's wonderful,' Dora said. 'Congratulations. Who's the lucky man?'
'I bought him,' Felicia said, mouth stretched in an ugly grin. 'I bought the lucky man.'
Dora drank off half her beer, wondering whether to end this mad conversation as soon as possible or take advantage of this poor woman's derangement. 'Turner Pierce?' she asked quietly.
'Oh,' Felicia said, 'I did tell you. I forgot. You know Turner?'
'We've met. I hope you'll be very happy.'
'He knows how to make me happy.' She leaned across the table and beckoned with a long forefinger. Dora bent forward to hear. 'I'm naked,' Felicia said in a low voice.
'Pardon?'
'Under my coat. I haven't a stitch on. Look.' She opened two buttons, pulled the neckline apart. Dora saw bare breasts.
'Button up,' she said sharply. 'Felicia, why on earth aren't you dressed?'
'What's the point? I don't feel like it. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. And mother can't make me.' That bony forefinger beckoned again, and again Dora leaned forward. 'Clayton is going to marry Helene. Good. You know why?'
'Why?'
'Because I thought Turner and Helene were making it.'
'Felicia! They're brother and sister.'
'So? But now it's all right. Turner is mine. I'll never give him up.'
She said this so fiercely that Dora was saddened, fearing what might happen to this vulnerable woman. Felicia sat back and looked at her pridefully. 'I've moved in with Turner. It's my home now.'
'And when will the wedding be?'
The focus of Felicia's eyes flattened, the aimless stare returned. 'Soon,' she said. 'Real soon. I think I better go. Turner worries about me. He doesn't like me to be out by myself. He wants me with him all the time. Every minute.'
'That's nice,' Dora said not believing a word of all this. 'Felicia, please, take care of yourself. And see your mother as often as you can.'
'I don't think so. Do you have any money?'
Dora was startled. 'I have a little with me.'
'Could you give me a twenty for a cab?'
'Of course,' Dora said. She took out her wallet and handed over a bill.
Felicia stood up, steadily enough, and unexpectedly proffered her hand. 'I've enjoyed our little chat,' she said formally. 'So nice seeing you, and we must do this again very soon.'
'Yes,' Dora said.
Felicia turned away, then came back to put an arm across Dora's shoulders and lean close. 'I call him the iceman,' she whispered. 'Turner. When we're getting it off, I say to him, 'The iceman cometh.' Isn't that hilarious?'
Dora nodded and watched her go, feeling horrified and helpless. An avalanche was beginning to move, and there was no way to stop it.
Chapter 34
