“What? We just had a couple of beers,” I said. “The rest is your tip.”
“I know,” she said between deep gasps.
“So?”
“Sir, the beers are five-fifty each,” she said.
Tanner and I exchanged disbelieving glances.
“Barley, malt, hops, yeast. A little fermentation. A percentage for advertising, overhead and profit,” he said with a big grin.
I shrugged and handed the girl another ten. “Does this redeem us?”
“More than enough to reserve you a place in the heavenly choir.” She put her hand on my arm. “Come back anytime, gentlemen.”
“Sure,” I said. “Next time I hit the trifecta.”
We left the Hyatt, walked through Grand Central, went up the escalator, through 200 Park and the Helmsley Building and exited onto Park Avenue.
It was lunchtime and all the office workers were out for a stroll. The day was clear and warm and sunny. Tanner and I walked for a few blocks without talking. The only thing fouling the air was his cigar.
“Jesus, will you put out that damn thing. It smells like a cathouse the morning after payday.”
“Sorry, old buddy,” he said as he poked me in the ribs. “Didn’t know your nose was so sensitive. You used to like the smell of WP.”
“Yeah, but that was a different time.”
His remark brought back the memory of a green lieutenant carrying a badly-wounded captain on his back from one of the hilltops guarding Khe Sanh through triple rows of wire and elephant grass to a medevac landing zone and waiting with him for the choppers to arrive while rocket-propelled grenades and mortars fell all around them. He was the kid. I was the captain. I owed him.
We walked to Fifty-ninth without a word. Old friends can do that. Wordsworth once spent an entire evening at Coleridge’s house without either man speaking. When he left, he thanked his friend for a pleasant time.
The secretaries in their summer dresses sat with their boyfriends in front of the office buildings eating salads and drinking Evian. The people strolling by studied the people sitting down who, in turn, studied them.
“Dave,” I said finally, “Did you know that Alicia’d been raped?”
“Hell, no.”
“Raped and had the shit kicked out of her. Spent a week in the hospital.”
“Jesus,” he whispered. “Who did it?”
“Wheelock.”
He let out a long slow whistle. “When did it happen?”
“A couple of years ago. Nobody knows about it.”
“How did you find out?” he said.
“From a dead psychiatrist.”
He nodded.
I looked at him. His eyes had tears in them.
“Find the bastard for me,” I said. “I want to exchange a few words with him.”
“Tell Mr. Jergens my name is Rogan.”
“Just a moment please.”
The secretary came back on the line. “Mr. Jergens says he doesn’t know you, Mr. Rogan.”
“That’s correct. Tell him it’s about Alicia Rogan.”
She clicked off and came back a minute later. “He says he doesn’t know of any Alicia Rogan.”
“She was a stock analyst working for Stallings. He might have known her by the name of Alicia Farrell.”
She clicked off and on again. I could picture her by the tone of her voice. Pinched nose, thin lips, hair tied back in a bun. “Mr. Jergens still doesn’t recall anyone by that name.”
“All right, then tell him it’s about his phony house of cards.”
She was back in a flash. “Mr. Jergens says he doesn’t know anything about a house of cards and he asked me to bid you a very good day, Mr. Rogan.”
And then she was gone.
CHAPTER XXIX
Rachel opened the door to her apartment. She was holding an enormous drink in her little hand.
“Is that scotch?” I asked.
Her lips curled up in an approximation of a smile. “It might be. Care for a sip?” She held the glass up to me and offered me a taste.
I took the glass and tried some. It was scotch all right, and it was good.
“You made a sale. I’ll take four fingers.”
She led me into that enormous living room and sat me down on that enormous couch.
“I thought you’d like it. It’s as expensive as scotch gets.” She reached over to the cocktail table and poured me a glass-full from a decanter.
I took a couple of long, slow sips and thought about all the joys I’d been missing. Cheap scotch dulls the taste buds. Or was it just the passing of the years?
She put the decanter back on the table and glanced sideways at me with a hint of impatience. “Well, tell me. What did you find out?”
I hesitated. “Did you know that Alicia had been raped and badly beaten?”
She took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. “No, I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I thought we were friends. You should be able to tell your friend about something like that, you know. She never told me…”
She took a big drink of her scotch. Then she took another big drink. There was pain in her eyes. She looked down and closed her eyes so I couldn’t see the hurt. She didn’t say anything for a long time.
Then she looked up at me and said, “What else did you find out?”
“It’s not pleasant,” I said.
“I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“You sure can.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You were a lot closer to Alicia than you told me.”
It didn’t register at first. Then her eyes lit up as she got the picture.
“Tell me if you’re referring to what I’m thinking,” she said coolly.
There wasn’t any use pussyfooting around the subject, so to speak. I let her have it as plainly as I could. “You fucked Alicia.”
A nasty smirk played on her lips. “I didn’t fuck Alicia.”
I smiled too. “That’s technically correct. But you did have sexual congress with her.”
The smile left her face. “That’s like technically correct, if you must know.” She stared into the glass of amber liquid she cupped in both hands. “But, in my defense, I only have sex with people I like.”
I could buy that. “Tell me something,” I said. “Did you have a hard time convincing Alicia to do whatever it was you did?”
She took a large swallow of scotch. “Not really. I think she was like primed for it. I mean, she was surprised when I first suggested it, but she wasn’t angry or disgusted or anything like that. I think she was secretly flattered. It didn’t take long to convince her to do it.”
“How long?”
She gulped down the rest of her drink and quickly poured herself another glassful. She pursed her lips and said, teasingly, “Is this an official detective investigation or are you just curious?”
“How long?”
“Less than a week,” she said softly.
