“So where are they?” I asked, still looking at the pretty curve of Veronica’s back. “All those reasons.”
“Lay off and you’ll live longer,” said Chuckie Lamb.
“So it is a threat, isn’t it?” My hand started to shake and I couldn’t stop it. I grabbed the receiver with the other hand. That helped, but not much. “It’s been a pleasure, but I can’t talk anymore now,” I said. “There’s someone here.”
“Someone I might know?”
“None of your business.”
“Someone involved with the case?”
“Not really.”
“Long legs, thin hips, the face of a spoiled child?”
Just that instant Veronica turned around and looked at me. “Yes, actually,” I said. “That’s it exactly.”
“Then you are as good as wasted already,” he said.
“Anything interesting?” asked Veronica after Chuckie had hung up and I held the telephone in a still shaking hand.
“No,” I said, putting the phone down slowly. “It was nothing. Just another debt collector.”
“Oh, the terrible strain,” she said. “I can see it on you. You simply must come with me for a drink. To calm your nerves.” It was not a question, it was a statement of fact, and before I could convince myself that I really ought to refuse she said, “Besides, Jimmy wants you to join us for dinner and he insisted I don’t accept no for an answer.”
Carolina’s is one of those places where suits congregate after office hours to pretend their lives are worthy of a beer commercial. There’s a restaurant that serves squab and monkfish and asparagus bundles tied with a yellow silk ribbon, but the real action is off to the side, where women with flat bellies go to have their drinks bought for them by Italian suits standing three layers deep at the bar. Guthrie and I used to go to Carolina’s when we were still partners and still friends and we’d laugh at the scene, even as we scanned for a pair of willing eyes. Guthrie is a handsome dog, broad and swarthy, and he’d usually end up leaning over something comely, laying on his saccharine charm as I clutched my beer, my back against the wall, watching. If there was a friend he’d call me over, but that never worked because after Guthrie had his choice the friend was generally not much worth it or, if she was, she’d have her eye on Guthrie. I always associated Carolina’s with failure, so I hated everything about the place, the too expensive drinks, the blank white walls, the forced expressions of self-satisfaction that were worn there like a uniform. But I must admit, it felt different to be there with a beautiful woman who laughed at my jokes and leaned close as she whispered her confidences.
“My jaw is too heavy,” she said, rubbing the back of her fingers along her jawbone. “It’s like the jaw of a wrestler.”
“You’re being silly,” I said. “Do you want another drink?”
“Of course. No, it’s not silly. I have a jaw like that giant wrestler, what was his name, Alex or something.”
I waved for the bartender. “Andre the Giant?”
“Yes. I have a jaw like his.”
“No you don’t. Your jaw is beautiful.”
“You’re sweet to lie for me. Here, feel it.” She took my hand and placed my palm upon her jawline. Her hand was cool and dry, her cheek smooth. My thumb rested in the hollow beneath her chin. She held my hand there for moment. “That’s why the modeling didn’t work. That and my legs.”
“Now you’re being very silly. Another Sea Breeze and Absolut martini,” I said to the bartender, who nodded at me while he stared at Veronica.
“We have to go soon,” she said. “After this drink. We’re meeting them at a place on Tenth Street. A private room. It’s all very serious.”
“What does Jimmy want to see me for?”
“Chet will be there,” she said. “Chet’s always there. And I think your friend Prescott.”
“And Chuckie too, I assume.”
“No, not Chuckie. He’s off visiting his mother.”
“His mother, huh? He doesn’t seem the type.”
“Oh, he’s always off visiting his mother. But I think they want to talk about the trial anyway and, as far as the trial goes, Chuckie’s out of the loop.” Now that was interesting. So Chuckie wasn’t threatening me on behalf of Chester or the councilman. He wasn’t authorized to make the call, he was freelancing, threatening me only on behalf of Chuckie.
“How can you drink that?” she said, pointing to the bright purple Sea Breeze in the highball glass the bartender placed in front of me.
“It tastes like summer. Besides, if I started drinking martinis I’d collapse before I could step out of this place.”
“Cheers,” she said, lifting her clear martini glass and downing a swallow. “Some nights I need a start on the champagne.”
“Victor Carl, Victor Carl,” said a loud nasal voice that I recognized immediately. “Looking very sharp indeed.” I felt something in the pit of my stomach the moment I heard that voice. Its owner was a tall, handsome man with short black hair, greased and combed straight back. Athletic shoulders filled his olive-green suit. He had a smartass smile and a bright yellow tie and he slapped me hard on the back as if I were a fraternity buddy.
“Guthrie, you bastard,” I said to my ex-partner as flatly as I could manage.
“Looking good, Vic,” he said. I really didn’t like being called Vic and I especially didn’t like being called Vic by him. “First I see you popping up on the nightly news and now in Carolina’s with the most beautiful woman in Philadelphia.” He turned his smartass smile on Veronica. “You’re coming up in the world, I must say.”
“I’m associating with a better class of people now,” I said, looking at him very carefully, trying to see the violence Lauren said was in him.
“Since Vic has forgotten his manners,” he said to Veronica, “let me introduce myself. I’m Guthrie. Samuel Guthrie.”
“And I’m interested,” said Veronica, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Not interested.”
“Oooh. Very tart.”
“Watch it,” I said.
“No offense meant. How’s business, Vic? You busy?”
“Busy as hell,” I said. For some reason lawyers always ask each other if they are busy and the response is always that they are busy as hell, even if they’re not. “Funny, things seemed to pick up just after you left.”
“Well, that’s grand,” he said. “I told you my leaving was the best for all of us. How’s Lizzie? That biological clock of hers still ticking?”
“Beth’s just fine, she’s a champ,” I said, suddenly angry. “By the way, we ran into your wife the night before last at the Art Museum.”
The smartass smile fled like a roach when the kitchen light is switched on. It cheered me to see it disappear. “I couldn’t make it,” he said. “I’ve been mondo busy at Blaine, Cox. And it’s not just the quantity of the work that’s so amazing, Vic, it’s also the quality.”
“She said you were separated,” I went on, not taking the seque he offered me about his new firm, preferring to let him squirm.
“What did she do? Sit you down and tell you all her problems? Be sure to charge her the two hundred bucks. Every shrink in the city already has.”
“She seemed pretty happy to my untrained eye,” I said.
“It’s a mask. Just the other day she said she pined for me.”
“So you’re getting back together then?” I asked.
“When I’m ready. I think I’ll let her hang for a bit. I’m enjoying being on my own again.” He gave Veronica a patented Guthrie smile, all confidence and innuendo, but this night it seemed a bit wan. “Listen, Vic, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Can we get together sometime?”