The Green Flash (12 page)

‘Yes, it will.'

‘Only your pride, isn't it? What else? Tell me what else?'

I grunted. ‘He sweats.'

‘Fat men can't help it. Thin men too sometimes.' We were in her suite. She had asked me to come in, and I had gone preparing for battle. But so far she had been calm.

‘Tell me again,' she said, ‘exactly what happened.'

I told her. She sat back in a large divan chair and prodded her hands through her hair, loosening it from its severe fastenings. Then she laughed, harshly, unmelodiously, irritably.

I said: ‘ I'm glad it amuses you.'

‘It does. In a way. It amuses and it annoys. It was all so trivial, so unnecessary.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Why should it worry you that you should be mistaken for one of them?'

‘D'you think I often am mistaken?'

‘By a few. It is not always easy to be sure about these things. I asked if it worried you?'

‘Not worried, no. Riled.'

‘Clearly. To the extent that you allow yourself the luxury of incurring the enmity of a man like that?'

‘I told you, I didn't know the rat slug was important at all.'

‘You must have known him to be important to be at such a dinner.'

‘Oh, well, I just felt like it.'

‘Were you given to violence before you joined us? Am I harbouring a dangerous psychopath?'

‘Yes, you can rely on me to shake the collar of any overweight Italian gangster who thinks he can call me a queer in his spare time.'

She sighed. ‘You must become more
civilized
. Over such a little thing!'

‘I have this aversion.'

‘So it seems.'

‘Some people can't stand cats. Others come out in spots if they eat lobster. You don't explain an allergy.'

The sigh turned into a yawn – as cavernous as that of one of the cats some people could not stand. ‘Dear boy, you are not being so honest with me – or with yourself, is it? You know you get on very well with Jimmy and Fred … and even Bruce with all his tantrums. And also did you not
share a flat
with one? You do not have an allergy for queers, your allergy is for being thought one yourself.'

‘So what?'

‘It is an occupational hazard in this business.'

‘Maybe.'

There was a pause.

‘Where is your room?' she asked.

‘Five floors up. Why?'

‘And cheaper than this?'

‘Oh, much.'

‘This is too extravagant. I will stay until the publicity is over and then move.'

I said: ‘When we first met – d'you recall you asked me which side of the road I was on.'

‘I did not. You volunteered the information – possibly to dispel any doubts in my mind.'

I thought round this remark. I hadn't remembered it that way. ‘And were there?'

‘What?'

‘Doubts in your mind?'

‘By then, no. But David, for all your petulance about this, you must remember you are a good-looking man … Sometimes you remind me of a handsome drawing by Delacroix in the Louvre.'

‘Don't know him. He a friend of yours?'

‘At others you look like Lord Byron on one of his less agreeable days.'

‘Thanks a lot.'

‘Always you dress well. And that carnation you so often wear in your buttonhole … Even when I first met you and you had little money, you dressed well. I do not at all mind if I am attractive to women. Why should you resent it when it is the other way round?'

‘Another drink?'

She hesitated. ‘Thank you. Scotch, please. I suppose one has to call it that here. The champagne at our party was good, though I drank very little of it.'

She put a finger in the heel of her shoe and eased it. Her elegant silk legs were much to be seen.

‘It was Spanish,' I said.

‘What?'

‘The champagne. Half the price of the real thing.'

‘It is not always a good thing to economize on what may be noticed.'

‘The first six bottles were Moët, and when that was done the empty bottles were left at the back of the serving table. The waiters were told to keep the other bottles covered with their napkins.'

She laughed. I carried her drink over.

‘Take one yourself.'

‘Thanks, no. I have a skinful already.'

‘Is that one of your distasteful Scottish sayings?'

‘Fu' as a lord. That's Scottish. Fu' as a tick, is another. I'm not sure about skinful … Incidentally, if you gave me the necessary alibi I should, no doubt, be far less sensitive about misunderstandings.'

She looked up at me. ‘I am not quite sure I follow you.'

‘I hoped you would.'

‘Alibi? It is a word now often misused. It does not mean an excuse, you know.'

‘Do I need an excuse,' I asked, ‘for wanting you?'

She sipped her drink, eyelids lowered.

‘Perhaps yes. Perhaps no. We have spoken of this once before. Leave me now, David. I am tired.'

‘Whatever you say, madame. But I may come back to the subject.'

‘Pray do not.'

‘What time d'you wish to see me in the morning?'

‘You say our first appointment is ten?'

‘Yes, at the General Motors building, that's Fifth Avenue at 51st, so it won't be far from here.'

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I do not think I like cities that have addresses which sound like crossword puzzles.'

‘Take it from me, it's much easier when you know how.'

‘So many things are … Nine thirty in the lobby, then.'

‘Very good, madame.'

‘Don't be silly, David,' she said.

‘Psychopaths,' I said, ‘often are.'

I bent and kissed her, near the corner of her imperious mouth.

She made no move and no comment.

I went out.

III

The next day was a madhouse, and I had no chance to speak to her alone until after dinner, when once again I whirred up to her suite and was joined there by Grogam and Barton for a last drink. After his dudgeon last night Grogam had said nothing more to me about the Marini affair. Everything had gone like a bomb today, and Barton had brought in cuttings about us from the New York papers, and also clippings of the ads that had gone in. We were away to a good start. She rang John Carreros and read him the favourable bits. Presently Phil Grogam left, and then Jack Barton.

As soon as they had gone I said: ‘I haven't written to Marini.'

‘No … I have. So has Grogam.'

‘Is that enough?'

‘Well, what can you say, personally? That you made a fool of yourself and happen to be unduly sensitive about your sex life?'

‘I reckon.'

She hesitated, thought it out, finger on lip. ‘Then do it tomorrow. Perhaps it is just worth doing as an over-insurance.'

‘Over-insurance against what?'

‘Enmity where it will do you no good.'

‘I can look after myself.'

‘You think so? Well, maybe. Let us say, then, enmity where it will do
us
no good.'

‘Right. I'll make the necessary grovel. Shona …'

‘Yes?'

‘This pitch that Phil gave me about de Luxembourg. Is it true?'

‘Being financed in the way he said? Oh yes.'

‘By the Mafia?'

‘Oh, yes. That and more.'

‘In what way more?'

She said: ‘
Man Dieu
, these American meals! How do they make everything taste like sawdust?'

‘I'll ask around tomorrow, try to find somewhere quieter, with wooden seats, where they'll serve you black bread and borsch.'

She fingered her hair but did not let it loose tonight. ‘Have you a cigarette?'

I took her one. She fitted it into her black ivory cigarette holder, and I struck my lighter, held it to the cigarette. Her hand was rock steady.

She said: ‘ It is strange to think – how many years ago? – I was with my mother and my brother in our rooms in Moscow, and we were eating just that, just what you said, when the music on the wireless stopped and an announcer came on and said in harsh tones – he said that ‘‘In crude and uncivilized violation of the non-aggression pact which exists between our two countries, the German army has this afternoon invaded the sacred frontiers of our Russian fatherland.'' I think it was June. I know the evenings were long. Over twenty-five years ago! I can hardly believe so much time has passed!'

Nearer thirty, I thought, but didn't correct her. ‘We'd been at war two years then,' I said. ‘Though I wasn't quite yet alive.'

She looked at me broodingly. ‘Are you that young? … Well, it had been a false peace for Russia all along. Ribbentrop and his posturings … I do not know what the Politburo thought, but the ordinary Russian had no faith in Nazi promises … The same night – the night the war began for us – Stalin came on, uttered a stirring message. He was like a foreigner, you know, Stalin – a Georgian – he spoke Russian with such an ugly accent. But we rallied behind him. He spoke then for us all.'

I took the chair beside her, patted her hand. ‘Let us talk of happier things. The Mafia, for instance.'

There was a long silence, ‘You have never heard how the de Luxembourg firm began?'

‘I'm ready for a Bible story.'

‘Well, a Bible story indeed … Some people must still remember … Though now they pretend it never was like that, that it is all just stupid calumny … Fifteen years ago they began. You recall the famous de Luxembourg lipstick? The eau de toilette? The first perfume – I have forgotten its name. To begin they did not catch on, any of them. Sometimes the trade has to be wooed, is more difficult than the public. We don't want anymore, the trade said. Our shelves are full. Folk don't want your stuff. Sorry and all that. At the end of a year there was a meeting of the de Luxembourg directors and they agreed on a change of policy. The representative would go into a shop: ‘‘Good morning, I represent de Luxembourg. Can I interest you in our range?'' ‘‘No thanks. Nothing doing. We have shelves full of all the best perfumes. We don't want any more.'' The representative would be polite and sad: ‘‘Very sorry to hear it. I'll call in a few weeks.'' An hour later a car will draw up outside the shop, two bullies go in, walk up to the shelves of perfumes and lipsticks and upset them all, smash them with sticks, crush them underfoot, then go out, drive away, leaving a pyramid of ruined scents and lipsticks, and a terrified proprietor is dialling the police. The next week the polite representative comes in to the shop: ‘‘Good. morning, I represent de Luxembourg. Can I interest you in our range?'' '

I whistled. ‘That's a Bible story I
never
heard before!'

‘That is how it happened. Of course for the bigger cities, the larger shops, this was not possible. But every buyer has a husband, a wife, a lover, or children. It soon got around that de Luxembourg had to be stocked – and given the top treatment. So they are now where they are.'

I looked at her long tawny figure taking its ease in the chair beside me.

‘And to think in my childlike way I used to imagine the perfumery business was a genteel profession.'

‘Nothing is genteel where big money is concerned.'

‘How did you come to know all this?'

‘John told me.'

‘And how did he come to know it?'

‘Through his relatives.'

‘
Oh
. Are his relatives – connected with the Mafia?'

She shrugged. ‘ One or two.'

‘And are we making use of these connections to up our prospects in the States?'

‘Of course. But not in an illegal way. That is all past. They are simply extending a helping hand, advising and helping on our outlets.'

‘So I don't need to feel that if that attractive young female from Tracey's doesn't order enough, her boyfriend may be run down by a taxi tomorrow?'

‘Of course not! Don't be so silly!'

‘Don't you think I should have been told?'

‘What is there to tell? That competition in the United States is so cut-throat that co-operation from an existing company is a great advantage?'

I got up and walked the quarterdeck. ‘Everything is relative, isn't it? Even honesty. No wonder there was alarm and despondency when I shook up Marini. I'm surprised at John.'

‘John? Why?'

‘He has always seemed to me the idealist among us, more concerned for the principles than you or I.'

‘My dear David, idealism and realism do not mutually exclude each other. Nor are principles necessarily altogether lost in a conflict with the economic facts of life. I was reluctant to attempt the American market. But the attempt has now been made and it appears to be set on the road to success. There is little more to be said.'

‘Not much more to be said; a lot to be thought.'

‘As you please.'

‘Tell me, Shona, if this is a time for confession, what is your real relationship with John?'

The cigarette had smouldered away unsmoked. She often did this.

‘John is a dear man. I like and respect him. From the beginning it was something of a
mariage de convenance
, because our abilities complemented so well. I cannot tell you there was ever
passion
between us, but we have played fair by each other. Once in a while he has had a little
affaire
; once or twice I have. He does not quite like that, I have to confess; but he accepts it.'

‘So that if you had an affair with, say, as an outside example, with me, for instance, there would be nothing too exceptionable about it.'

‘There might be.'

‘Nothing, at least, on your conscience so far as John is concerned.'

‘That is not the hindrance.'

‘What is, then?'

There was a pause. I was afraid she was going to ask me to take off. If she didn't I was making progress. Then she glanced up at me and I saw that I was making progress.