The Renewable Virgin (28 page)

‘Spleaking?'

‘Spleaking, speaking, you know what I mean.' Was I nervous? ‘Leonard—how about it? A kind of partnership?'

‘Darling, we both know the minute I let you out of my sight, you'd go screaming to that homely police detective friend of yours.'

‘Look in the mirror, buster,' I snapped, angry for the wrong reason. He just laughed. I think he was beginning to enjoy the situation, once he'd made up his mind I had to go.

Speaking of mirrors. I half-turned my back to him and started mugging, I mean I was making these
terrible
faces, hoping the driver would see me in the rear-view mirror. But no,
that
one kept his eyes on the oncoming traffic. He didn't care what was going on in the back seat.

Just as we got out of the cab Leonard pressed the gun into my side and said, low, ‘Remember, Kelly, I'll shoot you in front of a witness if I have to. Then I'll shoot the witness.'

So we ran through the rain into the building and I said
hello-isn't-this-awful-yes-we-got-caught-in-it
to the guy who ran the newsstand in the small lobby. I turned automatically toward the elevators but Leonard stopped me.

‘Back here,' he said.

The offices and some of the workrooms were upstairs, but the soundstage holding the
LeFever
sets was on the ground level. It suddenly hit me what he was planning and
then
I believed I was in danger. I had to know the place before it became real.

The
LeFever
sets had been repaired and repainted and refurbished and re-whatever else they needed, and Mimsy had distributed a memo (signed by Leonard F. Zoff) threatening everything short of dismemberment to anyone foolhardy enough to venture on to the sets before shooting actually started. That was to be the following Monday. This was Thursday, naturally; disasters always come on Thursdays. He could shoot me and leave me on the set and nobody would find me for four days. Didn't have to worry about an alibi that way, I guess.

My body would be lying there for four days. Four whole days.

‘Leonard,' I said, ‘I'll
smell.'

‘What?'

‘You leave me lying on the set until Monday, I'm going to stink to high heaven by the time they find me.'

He stopped walking and looked at me with a kind of awe. ‘Kelly, I don't know of another single person who'd think of that at a time like this.'

‘Hell, lots of people would. You'd think of it yourself. Come on, Leonard—you wouldn't want to be found like that, you know you wouldn't. Figure out some other way.'

He just shook his head in amazement and gestured me to go on. He unlocked the outside door to the soundstage and switched on the work lights. These gave barely enough illumination to keep you from tripping over things, and not always then. I shivered; we were both still dripping wet. Leonard put a hand on my shoulder to stop me while he thought about where he wanted to go.

Karate? Kung fu? Aikido? I didn't know any of that stuff. And I couldn't just out-muscle him.
And
I hadn't had any notable success in talking him into or out of anything. About the only thing left I could think of was divine intervention. A lightning bolt to burn him up while missing me altogether. The earth opening up and swallowing him while miraculously leaving me untouched. Any old ordinary Act of God would do. The more scared I am, the weaker the joke.

LeFever
had only four permanent sets—LeFever's office, his apartment, a room in a police precinct station, and a plain corridor that changed its fictional location every week. In addition, one or two temporary sets might be needed; one for a gym had been built for the first episode. All the sets were crowded close together; space was at a premium. Leonard took me to the new gym set—because it was the farthest from the outside door?

Speaking of which—it opened! We both heard it; Leonard slapped his free hand over my mouth and pulled me down to the floor. We cowered there in the shadow and listened to a voice say, ‘Sumby leffa work lights awn.'

I'd never heard anything so lovely in my life. It was wonderful beautiful terrific Nick Quinlan, and when a feminine murmur answered him, I knew what he was doing there. Showing her the
LeFever
sets, well, that was the excuse. Nick knew the sets would be deserted.

‘This here's LeFever's bedroom,' he said.

Feminine murmur.

I felt Leonard tense. If Nick and his lady lingered on the bedroom set, Leonard and I would stay where we were. But if he showed her around the rest of the soundstage, we'd have to move. I was on my knees on the floor with Leonard holding me. I felt around on the floor with my left hand and sure enough it was wet, the floor I mean. Our dripping clothes had made a little puddle there. If Nick turned more lights on and came through and saw the wet floor then maybe—wait, hold it. That meant, first, Nick would have to
notice
the water. Then second, he'd have to
realize
it had no business being there. Then third, he'd have to
investigate
. Forget it.

Nobody was going to come riding to the rescue. If I got out of this, I was going to have to do it myself.

Male and female laughter mingled; they were staying in the bedroom. I'd never have another chance like this one—I was going to have to let them know I was there. I couldn't holler because Leonard's big hand was still covering my mouth, but I could struggle and kick out with my feet and make
some
noise.

So I did. In fact, I almost got away because I caught Leonard by surprise. I kept hitting backwards with my one free elbow and I kicked and squirmed and banged my feet against the floor and made as much racket as I could. Leonard stopped me by turning me over on my front on the floor and laying or lying on top of me, it felt like both. His hand never left my mouth.

‘Hey, whazzat?' Nick said from the bedroom set. ‘Jeer sumpin?'

Feminine murmur.

‘Sumby's here. Lezgo.'

Rustle of clothing, a piece of furniture scraping on the floor, departing footsteps, silence.

Leonard was laughing as he let me up.

CHAPTER 21

MARIAN LARCH

‘Judith H. Crist!' Captain Michaels yelled into my ear as Kelly Ingram pushed open the door to the Eastside Airlines Terminal. ‘What the hell is
she
doing here?'

The radio speaker attached to the tape recorder on the car seat between us came to life at about the same time. ‘Godalmighty, Kelly Ingram just walked in,' came Ivan's voice. ‘What do I do now?' A sign of how rattled he was—Ivan could send but not receive.

‘Want me to go take a look?' I said.

‘Hell, no,' the Captain barked, his cold making him hoarse. ‘Stay put, Ivan'll keep us informed.'

‘They're standing there talking to each other,' Ivan's voice said. ‘He was surprised to see her but she wasn't surprised to see him—it was like she was looking for him. Captain, I hope you're thinking of something fast because people are starting to look at me funny for talking to my shirt.'

I glanced at Michaels. His face was drawn into a scowl, giving no sign he'd heard. We waited.

‘Captain, they're leaving,' Ivan said. ‘You know what I think? I think he thinks Kelly's the blackmailer.'

‘Damn, damn,
damn,'
Captain Michaels muttered. ‘Start the car.'

I started the car. Kelly and Leonard Zoff came out together—but almost immediately were stopped by some kids wanting Kelly's autograph. While that was going on, Ivan slipped out the Terminal door and climbed into the back seat of the car. Up ahead, Zoff had flagged a taxi and he and Kelly were getting in.

‘What about the plants?' I asked. The police officers inside the Eastside Terminal building.

‘Leave 'em,' Captain Michaels growled. I pulled into the line of traffic behind the taxi.

The whole set-up was shot to hell, all because Kelly Ingram had put in an unscheduled appearance. The situation just might be salvageable—we could try to reschedule for the next day. That wasn't what was worrying me. What was worrying me was the thought of Kelly in the taxi with Leonard Zoff in those circumstances. ‘Ivan, you really think Zoff believes she's his blackmailer?'

‘Looked that way to me. Remember, we just said “partner” when we called him—we didn't say whether it was a man or a woman.'

Captain Michaels sneezed.

‘So what do we do, Captain?' Ivan wanted to know. ‘Just tail 'em, make sure she's safe?'

‘Let's see where they go first,' Michaels said.

They went to a chi-chi bar on East Seventy-first. I pulled into a no-parking zone and immediately had a fat man in an apron yelling at me until I flashed my badge.

Ivan did a quick check inside the bar. ‘There's no other entrance,' he said, climbing back in the car. ‘And there's no good place inside for me to stand and watch. They might see me.'

So we sat there without talking for a long time, watching. Finally I said, ‘If they separate when they come out, then we're okay—we can go ahead and set up another meet tomorrow. But if they stay together, we just might have a problem.'

‘How do you figure?'

‘Well, obviously they're in there clearing the air—Zoff can't go on thinking she's a blackmailer much longer. It all depends on whether he gives himself away before she does. If he tips her off that he's being blackmailed and then finds out she isn't involved, well, then Kelly becomes a problem. Let's see what they do when they come out—whether they stay together or not.'

‘Mm, maybe. Everything could be okay and they'll just go on back to work together.'

‘We ought to be able to tell by the way Kelly carries herself. Whether she's willing or unwilling.'

It started to rain, those heavy gray sheets of water it's impossible to see through. After a few minutes it slacked off into a steady, heavy downpour. The streets had virtually emptied of people. We waited.

Then Kelly Ingram and Leonard Zoff came out and stood in the pouring rain, looking for a taxi.

Captain Michaels sniffled a question.

‘Unwilling,' I said.

We all three spotted the raincoat at the same time—the raincoat that was keeping Leonard Zoff's right hand dry while the rest of him got soaking wet. ‘Jesus, he's got a gun on her,' Ivan said unnecessarily. I turned on the ignition.

They finally got a taxi—which took them straight to the
LeFever
soundstage on West Fifty-fourth. Ivan did not repeat his suggestion that they might just be going back to work; Zoff's raincoat had taken care of that.

The taxi double-parked and let them out; they both ran for the building entrance, though I didn't see how they could get any wetter than they already were. There wasn't even a no-parking zone for me to pull into this time, so I stopped only long enough to let the two men out. I drove into an alley and left the car there. I made my own dash for the building entrance; the rain was still coming down, hard.

Inside, the lobby was empty except for a man behind a newsstand counter. I hesitated, not knowing which way to turn.

‘If you're looking for a fat man and a skinny man who just came running in here,' the newsstand man said, ‘they went thataway.' He jerked his thumb past his right ear.

I called out my thanks and took off in the direction he'd indicated. Towards the soundstage where the sets were, not the elevators.

Captain Michaels was leaning on one hand against the soundstage door, catching his breath. ‘'S locked,' he panted, ‘Malecki's gone for a key. Tell me what's inside.'

Briefly I described the layout of the sets. ‘It's a lot smaller than it sounds,' I said. ‘They don't waste an inch of space. How do you know they're in there?'

‘Guy at the newsstand.'

Ivan came back with the building supervisor, who was grumbling. ‘Second time I had to do this. What's going on in there?'

‘Second time?' Captain Michaels said. ‘Who'd you let in before—a man and a woman?'

‘Yeah, thass right.'

‘Was the woman Kelly Ingram?' I asked him. ‘Do you know her?'

‘Sure I know her, but it wasn't her. It was some lady friend of his.'

‘Of whose?'

‘Why, Mr. Quinlan's, acourse. Who we talking about?' He unlocked the door.

Nick Quinlan? Ivan, the Captain, and I all exchanged blank looks—and decided to leave it for later.

‘Leonard Zoff—does he have a key to this door?' Captain Michaels asked.

‘Sure—he's paying the rent now, ain't he?'

Captain Michaels shooed the building supervisor away. ‘We separate once we're inside,' he said. ‘And we do it quiet. They could be anywhere.'

One thing I hadn't counted on was the dimness of the light. I crouched to the right of the door until my eyes had time to adjust. I couldn't hear a thing. Then I started to edge my way around the first set, feeling with my foot for the camera cables I remembered as being all over the floor. The way was relatively clear, though. The cables wouldn't be underfoot until next week, probably, not until they started shooting.

I stopped to listen. Captain Michaels and Ivan were both off to my left, neither one of them making a sound. Ivan, you expected to be quiet; but Michaels always surprised me, a big man like that moving like a cat. I'd no sooner thought that than I heard a slight scraping sound. But it came from directly ahead, not from my left. I eased my gun out of my shoulder bag.

I heard another sound from the same place, close, this time like someone bumping into something. If I remembered right, I was right behind the set of the bedroom of LeFever's apartment. I felt my way along to the last flat of the wall. Then I took a big breath, swung around the flat on to the set, went into my crouch, yelled: ‘Hold it right there!'—and found myself pointing my gun at a very startled Kelly Ingram.