“What did you say?” he asked.
The woman was still smiling. “I asked if you would like to be a trophy,” she said. She slurred the words, and it was then that he caught the whiff of alcohol and realized she was at least partially drunk. “I’m on a scavenger hunt. I’m supposed to bring back a tall man in a blue suit. What do you say?”
“Bring him back where?” he asked.
“Oyster Bay.”
“That’s an out-of-town call, lady,” the driver said over his shoulder. “You know that, don’t you?”
“You just tend to the driving.”
“All I’m doing is telling you it’s an out-of-town call.”
“Do you want me to take your number?”
“Lady,” the cabbie answered, “you can take my number if you like, all I’m doing is advising you that Oyster Bay is an out-of-town call, if that is where we’re going now.”
“That’s not where we’re going now,” she answered. “We still have other things to get.” She turned again to Buddwing. “What do you say?”
“Is this a gag?” he asked.
“Does it look like a gag? You’re the first man I’ve seen in a blue suit. Is blue going out of style or something?”
“I didn’t think it was.”
“Neither did I. Come on, what do you say? If I have to drag a man back to that party, he might as well be good-looking.”
“Well, that’s very flattering, but...”
“What have you got in the bags there? Your lunch?”
Buddwing smiled. “Whiskey,” he said.
“Ahhh, good, I picked a winner.” She threw open the cab door. “In. Not another word. In.”
Still smiling, Buddwing shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m on my way somewhere.”
“I’ll help you get there,” the blonde said.
“By way of Oyster Bay?”
“Why not? Oyster Bay is very nice.”
“Come on, lady, where to?” the cabbie asked impatiently.
“Hold your horses, I have to look at this list. Now, what the hell did I do with it? Oh yeah,” she said, and reached into the front of her dress and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from between her breasts. “Can you give me a light back here?” she asked. The cabbie sighed and turned on the overhead light. The woman squinted at the list and then said, “I’m as blind as a bat without my glasses.” She handed the list to Buddwing. “Can you make this out? Don’t mind the Chanel, it’s there by osmosis.”
Buddwing took the sheet of paper, reeking of perfume, and studied the items typewritten on it, one beneath the other.
“You really were supposed to find a tall man in a blue suit,” he said.
“What did you think this was? A clumsy pickup?”
“No, but—”
“Then why so surprised? Have you got a cigarette?”
“I’m sorry, I’m all out.”
“Driver, have you got a cigarette?”
“Lady, have you decided yet where you would like to go?”
“No, I have not decided yet, and I asked you if you had a cigarette.”
“Lady, I am a cab driver, not a butler.”
“What’s his number?” she said, turning to Buddwing. “I can’t read it from here.”
“It’s 704163,” the cabbie said, “and my name is Frederick Calabresi, and this is a Yellow Cab. Does that answer all your questions?”
“I don’t want to ride with you,” the woman said. She opened the door immediately and came out of the cab, legs flashing. She staggered on the sidewalk for a moment, clutched Buddwing’s arm for support, and then said, “Pay him.”
“Me?” Buddwing asked.
“Yes, you. All I’ve got is a hundred-dollar bill, and I don’t want to break it. Pay him, for God’s sake.”
The cabbie threw his flag, leaned out the window and said, “That’s two dollars and twenty-five cents.”
Buddwing sighed and reached into his pocket.
“If you tip him a penny, I’ll brain you,” the woman said.
He paid the fare and tipped the driver fifty cents. When he turned to the woman again, she said, “Did you tip him?”
“No,” Buddwing said.
“She’s drunk as hell, mister,” the cabbie said. “You better watch yourself,” and he pulled away from the curb.
“What did he say his number was?”
“I don’t remember,” Buddwing said.
“Neither do I. Have you still got that list?”
“Yes.”
“Will you help me find those other trophies?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You might as well stick around,” the blonde said. “You’ve already got an investment in me.” She smiled. “You did tip that louse, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t deserve it.”
“You were kind of rough with him.” Buddwing said.
“He never had a ride like that in his life,” she answered. “He should have tipped me.” She paused and looked at Buddwing unsteadily. “What’s your name?”
“The hell with that,” he said.
“Are you wanted or something?”
“No.”
“So don’t be shy.”
“I’m the man in the blue suit, okay?”
“Sure, but what do I call you? Rover? Prince?”
“Call me anything you like, I don’t care.”
“What kind of whiskey have you got there?”
“Scotch and bourbon.”
“Open the Scotch and we’ll have some.”
Buddwing hesitated.
“Come on,” she said, “you’re not going to deny a lady a drink, are you?”
“This is for a party,” he answered.
“That’s right,” she said. “Sit down, we’ll have a party.”
“Look, really, I don’t think—”
“A lousy drink? One lousy drink?”
“Well, all right, but—”
“Good, sit down. Here. Right here.”
They moved toward the front step of one of the buildings, the blonde weaving uncertainly, Buddwing helping her. She sat beside him, and then opened her legs and pushed the black folds of the dress down between them. Buddwing opened the bottle and handed it to her. “Cheers,” she said, and drank from the lip. “Ahhh, good.” She passed the bottle back to him. “Read me the other things on that list, will you?”
“Why’d you come all the way here from Oyster Bay?” he asked.
“I didn’t come from Oyster Bay.”
“Didn’t you tell the cabbie—”
“Yes, that’s where we’re going as soon as we round up this junk, but that’s not where we started. Not where I started.”
“Where did you start?”
“890 Park Avenue.”
“Is that where you live?”
“No. That’s where Sibbie lives. Sibbie Randolph. She’s a friend of mine.” She paused. “Do you know her?”
“No.”
“She’s a swinger,” the blonde said. “Anyway, we were there for dinner, and somebody suggested that we have a scavenger hunt and meet out at Jerry’s house in Oyster Bay at two o’clock. What time is it now?”
“I haven’t got a watch,” Buddwing said.
“Everybody has a watch.”
“Not me. Nor you, either, for that matter.”
“Well, what time is it about? You must know that.”
“It’s about eleven-thirty.”