The Renewable Virgin (27 page)

‘Yeah, I gotta be careful what I call you now, don't I?' he sneered. Then he seemed to think better of it and shook his head and said, ‘Don't mind me, darling, I'm a bit shook, y'understand. This is the last thing in the world I expected. I don't
deserve
this. Kelly—I'm not like Nathan Shithead, I don't enjoy hurting people.'

What on earth? ‘I know that, Leonard. I never thought you did.'

‘But it didn't stop you, did it? You're just as grabby as all the rest of them. You see an opportunity, you don't give a shit who it is you walk over.'

I was beginning to get mad. ‘Now look, Leonard, there's something you better understand right now. You simply cannot talk to me any way you please. From now on you will speak to me with courtesy and respect or you will not speak to me at all.' Since I had absolutely no way whatsoever of backing up that ultimatum, I was pleasantly surprised to see him pale. ‘Do you understand me?'

‘I understand,' he whispered.

Now
that
got to me. The only time in my life I'd ever before heard Leonard Zoff whisper was when he had laryngitis. Something was greatly out of whack. ‘Are you all right?' I asked him. ‘Do you feel up to talking now?'

‘I'm all right—let's get it settled.' He waved a hand dismissively. ‘It's just that
you
are about the last person I'd have thought … Kelly, don't you understand? I did it for you as much as for me. Nathan Shithead would have ruined you, he'd have milked you for all he could get for three, four more years and then
phlooey!
Out in the garbage with Kelly baby. He don't care what happens to nobody. Me, I wouldn't do that to you. I'da nursed you along, paced things right so it would go on as long as you wanted it to go on. I had big plans for you, Kelly!'

This was definitely turning into one of the weirdest conversations I'd ever had. ‘What do you mean
had
, Leonard? You're still going to do all those wonderful things for me.'

‘Not if I can't call the shots. How can I? You breathin' down my neck all the time?'

‘Breathing down—Leonard, you don't even know what I want yet!'

‘Oh, I have a fair idea! Unless you've changed your mind,' he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. ‘Maybe you don't want the money now?'

I slapped at the table in frustration. ‘I
always
want money, Leonard—who doesn't? I keep telling you that's not the main thing, but since that's what seems to be bothering you—all right, start with money. I don't want my new series to be the quickie, shoddy thing
LeFever
is. And that takes money. Money for good scripts, money for enough time to do the job right—'

‘And money for Kelly?' His lip raised in a sneer.

‘Why not?' I said hotly. He'd been sneering at me ever since we came in. ‘Leonard, face it—you're just going to have to shell out. And you might as well start right now.'

He stared at me with open contempt on his face. Then he reached to his inside jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope that he dropped on the table. ‘Count it if you want. It's all there.'

Now
what? With a sigh I opened the envelope and counted ten one-thousand dollar bills inside. It was an ordinary white envelope, about nine inches wide, no imprinting. I ran the gummed flap across my tongue and sealed the envelope. I sat without speaking for a moment, just holding it in my hand. ‘Leonard. I am sitting here quietly, making no fuss, trying to understand why you just handed me
ten thousand dollars.'

‘Keep your voice down,' he muttered. ‘Because that's how much your partner said bring, that's why. Don't ask for more because I don't have it.'

‘There's that word
partner
again. What partner, Leonard? What are you talking about?'

He was angry. ‘What are you trying to pull? Your unidentified sweet-voiced friend on the phone, the one who set up our meeting in the Eastside Terminal. Who'd you think?'

‘I still don't know what you're talking about. What meeting? We didn't have a date to meet in the Terminal.'

You know how that comes-the-dawn looks spreads
so-o-o-o
slowly over somebody's face? Well, that's what happened to Leonard just then. At least
he
understood something; I was still floundering. Abruptly he shook his head. ‘No, wait a minute—you didn't just happen to run into me there. You came looking for me, don't tell me you didn't.'

‘I'm not telling you I didn't.'

‘So how'd you know where I was?'

‘Mimsy called your driver. He said he let you out at the Eastside Terminal.'

‘Oh my God,' he said slowly. ‘My God. That simple. It
wasn't
you. I shoulda known it wouldn't be you.' He gave himself a sort of little shake and reached out and took the envelope back from me. ‘This was a mistake, Kelly. I thought—well, never mind what I thought. The whole thing was a mistake. Just forget about it, will you?'

But I'd had enough time for a few things to filter through. The symptoms were familiar enough, God knows; I'd seen them once before. ‘You said the person on the phone who set up the meeting was “unidentified”—right? Does that mean just anybody can call you up and tell you to take ten thousand dollars to the Eastside Terminal and you'll do it? I never knew you were that free and easy with your money.'

‘I said forget it, Kelly.'

‘You're being blackmailed, aren't you, Leonard?' I asked as gently as I could.

He didn't answer; a tic had developed under his left eye.

‘Don't pay,' I urged him. ‘I've seen what it can do to a man. Whatever it is your blackmailer has on you, it can't be worse than what's going to happen to you once you give in and start paying. Don't pay.'

He laughed humorlessly and put the envelope back in his pocket. ‘Gee, thanks for the swell advice, Kelly.' The tic grew stronger.

‘Don't be so quick to dismiss it. You don't know what you're letting yourself in for. Besides, the only blackmail victim I've ever known turned out to be a killer, and you certainly haven't done anything like that.' Which of course started me wondering what he
had
done.
I did it as much for you as for me
, he said. What on earth could that be?

Leonard leaned forward and said in that strange new whispery voice of his, ‘I have this terrible feeling about you, darling. I'm afraid you're turning into a problem.'

‘Because I made you miss your, er, appointment? You don't know who your blackmailer is, do you? You thought it was me. I. How could you, Leonard? Me, a blackmailer?'

‘Yes,' he said heavily. ‘It was a bad mistake.'

‘Are you worried about what he'll do? Or she. They were probably there all the time and saw what happened. You'll hear from them again.'

‘No doubt.' The tic under his eye seemed to be slowing down.

I did it as much for you as for me
. What blackmail-inviting thing could he have done that would have benefited both of us? The only thing that had happened lately that was sheer good news for Leonard was Nathan Pinking's getting himself arrested. From that one event all of Leonard's subsequent blessings flowed. And Leonard was so convinced Nathan Pinking would have ruined my career that his take-over of Nathan's business would have been good for me too, to his way of thinking. (And he may have been right.)

But Leonard didn't have anything to do with Nathan's arrest. What did he
do
that was as much for me as for himself? Nathan was arrested because that horrible Fiona Benedict had found some pictures in Rudy's papers that led Marian Larch to Ted, and Ted blew the whistle on Nathan. None of it would have happened without those photographs Rudy's mother found. And she wouldn't have found them, she would still be sitting here in New York waiting for her trial if somebody hadn't come along and … oh.
Oh
.

Oh, goodnessgracioussakesalivemercyme
oh
.

That was it. That was what he'd done. That had to be it. ‘You killed Richard Ormsby,' I said stupidly, my own voice little more than a whisper.

Leonard gave a little nod—not in confirmation of what I'd just accused him of, it was more like a little I-was-right nod to himself. As if he'd known all along I'd get there eventually if he just waited long enough.

I put both hands on the table, palms down, helping to steady the room which had suddenly begun to move in a seasick-making kind of way. If he hadn't mistaken me for the blackmailer … I would never have … and he actually … ‘And you had the gall to say you did it as much for me as for yourself! Leonard, have you lost your mind?'

‘It was
entirely
for you, you stupid bitch!' he hissed. ‘You think I was just gonna stand there and let Nathan Shithead take you away from me? You could have been a big star, Kelly. A
great
star.'

I didn't much like that
could have been
. ‘Don't you go blaming me, you bastard,' I hissed back. ‘You killed one man so you could take another man's business away from him and now you're telling me it was all for
me
? It was all for Leonard Zoff, that's who it was for! Stop kidding yourself.'

‘Look under the table.'

‘What?'

‘Under the table, look under the table.' He jerked his head angrily.

So I looked under the table. What I saw was a gun in Leonard's hand, pointing at me. A gun? Pointing at me?

A
gun
. Pointing at
me
.

I sat back up and said the first thing that came into my head. ‘All right, all right, I'll
wear
the pink dress!'

He stared at me. ‘Darling, sometimes you just don't make good sense. Now listen. This is what we're going to do. Keep your hands on the table where I can see them—that's right. Now I'm going to signal the waiter. When he gets here, you are going to pay the bill. You got money? Good. Then we're going to get up and walk out of here and get in a cab.'

‘And nobody will even notice that you're holding a gun on me?'

‘It'll be under my raincoat—nobody'll see it.'

I tried to put a brave face on it. ‘What are you going to do if I make a break for it, Leonard? Shoot me in front of all these people?'

‘Richard Ormsby was surrounded by a whole buncha people,' he said pointedly.

Oh yeah. I forgot about that.

So we did it the way he said. The waiter brought the bill, and I paid while Leonard
kept me covered
under the table, good heavens. I left a tip on the little tray that was twice the amount of the bill, hoping to catch the waiter's attention. He didn't even deign to look at me.

‘Don't try anything,' Leonard warned me as we got up to leave.

My problem was I couldn't convince myself I was in real danger. Sure, I understood the man was a murderer and I was a threat to his safety. But balanced against that was the fact that this was
Leonard
. I was having trouble believing Leonard would hurt me. Not because I was a magic princess that bad things never happened to, but because I represented a long-term investment that was just beginning to pay off. Besides, I'd always looked on Leonard as something of a clown; it was hard recasting him as a killer. He was just Leonard, the man who'd been guiding my career for years. The man whose professional advice I'd followed to pretty good results. The man who … had sent me toilet paper as a way of telling me what he really thought of me. Ah yes,
that
man.

The rain had started while we were inside and it was coming down hard now. Which meant, of course, there wasn't a taxi to be had. There was no canopy or overhang to stand under and I didn't have an umbrella, so I was soaked to the skin within seconds. I must have looked ridiculous, standing there on the curb sopping wet. But I couldn't have looked as silly as Leonard, who was equally wet while carrying a perfectly good raincoat over his right arm and hand, his gun hand, oh dear.

Finally a cab stopped. The driver glared at us as we climbed in; he'd have to wipe the seat off. I was surprised to hear Leonard give the address of the
LeFever
soundstage and offices. A weight lifted: that place was just crawling with people.

We were separated from the driver by one of those thick plastic shields; he wouldn't hear us if we talked low. ‘Leonard,' I whispered, ‘what are you going to do?'

‘Don't talk.'

‘You aren't really going to shoot me, are you?'

‘Quiet,'
he said.

‘I'm whispering,' I whispered. ‘Are you really going to
shoot
me?' I decided to change the emphasis. ‘Are you really going to shoot
me
? It isn't necessary, you know. If my staying alive depends on keeping my mouth shut, you really think I'm going to talk?'

‘Darling, you know I can't risk that.'

‘What risk? I will gladly become your
accomplice
before I'll do anything to get myself hurt. Besides, I can't prove a thing—Leonard, you know I can't prove anything. You're safe.'

‘You don't understand. I can't even afford the accusation—you could start the police investigating me just by hollering.' He looked at me with something like regret on his face. ‘Oh Kelly, Kelly! Where'm I gonna find another face and bod like yours? Why didn't you just mind your own business?'

I'd thought I was minding my own business. ‘I'll say it again. I'll never do anything to get myself hurt. Come on, Leonard—do I strike you as the suicidal type?'

He didn't say anything to that, so I pressed my advantage. ‘Leonard, I can help you pay off these blackmailers if that's the way you're determined to handle it. I won't say a word to anyone, I certainly won't talk to the police. I'll even stop spleaking to Marian Larch if that'll make you feel better.'