David drew back. “It will not be found. It will be a thousand years before it comes to light again.”
His black eyes, unseeing eyes, turned again to the room. “It has all been a waste.” He buttoned his coat, adjusted his scarf, his hat. He took one of the gold monogrammed cigarettes from his case, lighted it with deliberation. Every eye watched him, watched the match burn evenly, his intake of smoke, the trickle that came from his mouth. Every eye watched Danny follow the same motions, as if synchronized with his brother.
Danny repeated, “It has all been a waste.”
They turned together, moved steadily to the door. David said, “Goodnight, Griselda,” and Danny smiled, “It’s been fun seeing you.” It was the same as it had been too many times before, save that now there were no sticks beneath their arms. They opened the door, went out, closing it behind them.
Griselda was laughing and crying, her arms about Jasper of all that room; Jasper, because he alone was undisturbed, only terribly annoyed. He was not playing the lead tonight.
Tobin said, “They can’t get away. The X are waiting for them below.”
Griselda whispered, but everyone heard her. “They won’t be taken. They can do things no human people can do.” She believed it.
Con shook himself, wiped his forehead. “For God’s sake, let’s have a drink.”
2
As if a fog lifted, the confusion went away. Uniforms came for Gig, departed. Jasper made relieved and determined exit. Only Tobin, Moore, Con and she remained, glasses in hand. She sat close to Con on the couch, so close she could feel the warmth of his arm under his coat sleeve.
Con said, “Sure glad you and Moore got back in time, Toby. I couldn’t have done anything to stop anybody.”
Tobin told Griselda, “We just missed you.”
“Missed me?”
“Con sent us up to Queechy to bring you back. He was getting nervous. We flew up, but you’d already gone. The place was empty, so we flew back in double time.”
She caught her lip in her teeth. “Empty. Missy-”
Con touched her hand.
“There wasn’t anyone there.”
She closed her eyes again, trying to forget that scarlet room. Maybe another spring Missy would be helping the violets and wild roses and little ferns to grow. Maybe she’d be under the water forever. The twins knew ways.
Tobin said, “It would have been just too bad, wouldn’t it, if Zcrsky had examined his artillery before dropping in tonight?”
Con shook his head. “He’d have had to go out for more shells. And the tail would have let me know. I cleaned him out today with Bette watching and she fidgety as a bird.”
Griselda wondered, “Why didn’t Bette tell me Gig wasn’t the real Gig?”
Con said, “I asked her that. She didn’t know you thought he was my Gig. To her any Gigland was rightly called Gig, and he told her the same yarn he told the University about J. Antwerp going off to Persia. He even forged a letter to her-of course, Gig’s letter to Columbia was forgery-warning her about saying anything of J. Antwerp being away, that he was on a very secret mission. He actually needn’t have gone to that trouble. Bette never has been much of a talker.” He put out his cigarette. “He was no more a Gigland than you are, of course.”
Griselda shook her head. “What happens to him? He was good to me.”
“If he hadn’t made the mistake of kidnaping Gig and shutting him up in a hole of a tenement, he’d only be kicked out of the country. But kidnaping’s serious business. Thank God,” he drank, “Gig’s all right. Anyhow he will be when he gets a shave and bath and some sleep.” He drained his glass. “I’m going to have a refill.”
Griselda said she’d have another. He’d have to come back beside her to bring it. If she missed the plane, Jasper would go on anyway. If Tobin and Moore would only leave, maybe Con would realize her. Maybe he’d think her too weak to be setting out this night for California, not know that she was only trembling at his nearness.
She didn’t want to go back to California. She didn’t ever want to go away from him again. But what else could she do when Con was silent, letting Jasper make plans. He had said, “Let’s leave on the next plane, Griselda, get out of this revolting town and go home to Hollywood.”
She had tried to hesitate, give Con a chance to demur, but he had said nothing. He hadn’t even looked at her while Jasper went on spoiling things as carefully as Aunt Charlotte or Ann might spoil them. “You might just as well, you know. My picture goes into production right away and Oppy wants you to design the women’s clothes. He’s expecting you. There’s really no sense of your staying in New York any longer. And the trip is so nauseating alone. I’ll go pack and pick you up, shall I?”
Con silent You couldn’t stay on when you weren’t asked. She had said, not looking at either of them, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
Con might have thought she wanted to go. Even now as close to him as she dared move herself, he might not know. If she were alone with him… But she couldn’t ask the others to get out
She said, “Thank you,” when Con returned, taking the fresh glass. His hand just brushed hers. Her fingers ached to retain the touch.
He began talking again, keeping Tobin and Moore there, “We could have cleaned this up last week, only I had to find Gig. I was afraid of what might have happened to him. Garth helped. He’s been trying to land Zcrsky for a long time. Get him out of the country. He may have been good to you, but he’s wanted under more than one name in more than one place.”
Her fingers just touched his sleeve. “Con, why did you risk keeping the marble here in the apartment?”
He knew her touch was there. “It wasn’t the real one, baby. It looked like it but it was only a late Renaissance imitation.” Then he guffawed to Toby, “Where do you think she hid it? Sewed inside a kid’s rag doll!”
Her eyes opened wide to his. “You opened my deposit box? You read that letter!”
“Sure,” he said. ”Who do you think I am, Sir Galahad?”
There was silence between them for that swift, startled moment. He must have felt her tremble, the glass in her hand was as in wind. She couldn’t believe. She didn’t dare believe. But his look was as it had been long ago, as if he too wished they were alone to clear up so many things. Her eyes dropped. She could explain later that she was sentimental the night she wrote it and frightened, terribly frightened for him.
Tobin glancing from Con to her suddenly seemed aware. “We’d better hump, Moore. Trouble is soon as one case is out of the way, a new one starts. Morning comes early.”
The sergeant downed his drink. “Sure does.”
Tobin stood up and stretched. “Give you a lift, Griselda?”
She held her breath for one momentous instant. Con answered. “No, she’s staying here.” She didn’t look at him.
He was walking to the door with the men. He was saying, “She came East for a rest and now she’s going to have it. We’re going to spend a week in bed.”
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02.08.2011