‘Vicky! How are you?’ I forced my voice to sound ardent.
‘I’m recovering. My feet still hurt. Lane tells me he has taken care of you. Are you satisfied Jack? You have only to tell me: I can handle Lane.’
A drop of cold sweat ran down the side of my nose and I flicked it away.
‘Satisfied? He leant over backwards, and I have you to thank.’
‘Good.’ A pause, then she said. ‘He’s just left for Moscow. I’m going to the cabin: join me at six,’ and she hung up.
Slowly, I replaced the receiver.
Suddenly my planned day of fun turned grey. I knew every time she and I met, I was putting my new career into jeopardy.
Should anyone see us and send word to Essex, I would have no career, and yet I knew Mrs. Victoria Essex was far too dangerous to refuse.
The relaxed happy hours on the beach with a brainless dolly bird were now a pipe dream! I had to drive to the cabin, risk my future because Mrs. Victoria Essex had beckoned.
I spent the morning and most of the afternoon in my room, brooding. I drank too much. I didn’t feel like eating. Then around 17.00, I went to the garage, got in the Caddy and drove to the cabin.
Sam came out into the sunshine. I nodded to him as he beamed, taking my overnight bag. He could betray me, I thought. A word from him to Essex would leave me out in the very dark cold.
Vicky was lying on the divan, sipping a dry martini.
‘Jack!’
‘How are you?’
She still had a few tiny blemishes from the insect bites on her skin, but they had been skillfully treated. She looked marvellous in a simple red cotton dress that reached to her ankles.
She looked up at me: her big violet eyes full of desire as she finished the martini and set down the glass.
‘Lock the door, Jack. I want you.’
As I turned the key, I again realised the trap I was in, but in spite of knowing this, I wanted her: no man alive wouldn’t want her.
Our lovemaking was fierce. Twice she cried out wildly and I cringed, wondering if Sam was listening outside the door. When she was finally satisfied, she smiled up at me.
‘You’re quite a man Jack. Let’s have a drink.’
So we had martinis, then Sam brought in dinner of lobster soup, grilled salmon steaks, salad and coffee.
She talked: I listened.
‘I must tell you about Lane.’ she said with a laugh. ‘He was really furious with me that I had taken a ride on the Condor. I’ve never seen him so mad. He sacked poor Thompson who let me on. If it wasn’t for my feet, he would have beaten me.’
I couldn’t imagine any man beating this woman.
‘Do you go along with that?’
She laughed.
‘Men have their kinks. I don’t mind so long as it keeps him happy. I smoke a reefer before he begins.’ She laughed again. ‘In a way, it’s quite fun.’
I suddenly felt sickened by this.
‘Vicky... do you think I should stay the night?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you think it’s dangerous?’
Her eyes turned hard as she stared at me.
‘Don’t you want to stay with me Jack?’
Did I hell! One slip and I would lose my future.
‘Of course, but I’m thinking of you. It’s damn dangerous. Someone...’
‘There’s no someone.’ She stretched herself like a beautiful sleek cat. ‘Turn on the telly. Let’s watch the fights.’
So we spent the next two hours watching bums hanging onto each other and hitting the air around each other, then Sam came in to clear the dishes.
‘Carry me to bed Jack,’ she said. ‘My feet still hurt.’
Picking her up, taking her into her bedroom, laying her on the king size bed meant nothing to me. I just wanted to get away, but that, I knew, was something I wasn’t going to do.
‘Undress me Jack.’
I could hear Sam washing the dishes. Reluctantly I undressed her while she lay still, smiling at me. When I had got her into a shortie nightdress, she said, ‘Take a shower Jack.’ The violet eyes had turned hungry. ‘Hurry...’
Around 01.00, we finally fell asleep. She woke me as the dawn light came through the open window and we made love again. She seemed insatiable. I was still in a deep, exhausted sleep when she woke me again.
‘Get up Jack. It’s after ten. Go into the spare bedroom. The doctor’s coming.’
I dragged myself, half asleep, into the spare bedroom. I dropped onto the bed, feeling as if I had been fed through a mincer. I slept.
What seemed minutes later, a gentle hand shook me awake.
‘Lunch will be ready in an hour, Mr. Crane,’ Sam said softly.
I staggered out of bed, took a cold shower, dressed and went into the living room. I was feeling like hell.
Vicky was sipping a dry martini.
‘Hi Jack! Did you rest?’
I forced a grin.
‘Yes, I find you marvellously exhausting.’ I reached for the cocktail shaker. ‘What did the quack say?’
She grimaced.
‘He wanted to shoot me full of antibiotics, but I said no.’
‘You’re right.’ I drank half the martini to give me courage, then said, ‘I have to go to the city this morning. I won’t be long, but I have to go.’
She put down her drink and eyed me.
‘Why?’
Just looking at her, seeing those violet eyes turn glass hard seeing her face tighten into a stone mask told me as nothing else could that I was handling dynamite.
So I told her about Claude Kendrick and Orzoco. She listened, staring at me.
‘I must get Orzoco fixed.’ I concluded. ‘The only way is to pay back the money, then he can’t beef. I have to see Kendrick and tie it up.’
She drew in a long, slow breath.
‘You’ve certainly involved yourself in a mess, haven’t you?’ There was an edge to her voice.
‘I can handle it. You don’t have to worry.’
That was absolutely the wrong thing to have said. She picked up her cocktail glass and threw it viciously across the room. The glass exploded against the wall. She leaned forward, glaring at me.
‘Worry? What the hell do you mean? If you involve me in your sordid hijack, you’ll be sorry you’re alive! Go and fix it! But don’t you dare involve me!’
‘Take it easy, Vicky.’ I was shocked at her viciousness. ‘There’s no need to get angry. I’ll fix it.’
‘You’d better!’
Looking at her as she glared at me, her face like stone, her eyes blazing, she lost the glamour she ever had for me. For the first time I could understand why everyone had warned me that she was a blueprint of a bitch.
As I left the room, she screamed after me, ‘And come back! I want you here before five o’clock!’
Claude Kendrick received me in his room with a wry smile.
‘It’s all fixed, cheri: no problems. I have a document for you to sign. I have talked to Orzoco. He understands. Actually, he isn’t displeased. He has salvaged a lot of expensive items from the aircraft which he gets for nothing.’
‘How about the wreck?’
Kendrick smiled.
‘It doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all right. There’s no problem. Just sign here. This assigns your company to Orzoco.’
I signed with the name I had used to register the company: Jack Norton.
That seemed to be that.
‘I understand Mr. Essex is going to build another Condor?’ Kendrick said looking slyly at me. ‘Maybe we could do another deal?’
‘Not a hope.’
He lifted his orange wig, stared inside it and slapped it back on his head.
‘Yes.’ He squinted up at me. ‘Mrs. Essex owns a number of expensive baubles: particularly a diamond necklace. I would be in the market if you could arrange something.’
‘Get stuffed, fatty.’ I said and left him.
I got into the Caddy. The time by the dashboard clock was 13.30. I wasn’t expected back until 17.00. I decided to return to my apartment. I needed time to think.