I sighed and stepped aside. Susan Poker closed the door behind her and Gretchen appeared from the bedroom, sexy and soft-eyed, dressed in a pale blue bed jacket over a silky, creamy button-up nightie.
“Well, Gretchen,” said Susan Poker. “Is Jerzy any good?”
By way of answer, Gretchen gave a whoop of laughter and a wild toss of her head.
“That’s a yes,” I stated, and Gretchen didn’t contradict me.
“Shall I make coffee?” suggested Susan Poker. “I know where everything is.”
“Thanks,” said Gretchen. “I want to take my shower.” She waggled her fingers and closed her bedroom door with a last injunction that we “Be nice to each other!”
“Was it you who called Gretchen last night?” I asked Susan Poker.
“I wanted to be sure she was safe. We single gals have to look out for each other. But I’m here this morning because I want to talk to you.”
“About real estate? Why don’t we talk about how you turned me in?”
“Oh, you think I called the police? No, no. I just heard them on my scanner. Since I have an interest in your dwelling-and in you-I got there as fast as I could.”
“Why would a Realtor have a police scanner?”
“All the agencies have one. We need to know right away when a property is about to go on the market.”
“Like when the owner dies?”
“It’s dog eat dog, Jerzy. But, no, I didn’t turn you in. Until I heard the call it hadn’t occurred to me that it was you who launched the GoMotion ants. That was over on the east side. Terrible property values there.” She gazed at me pleasantly, her face as blank and smooth as a cyberspace mannequin’s. There was no way to tell if she was lying. This branch of the conversation had reached a dead end.
“So what was the real estate deal you wanted to talk to me about? You’re getting me evicted, right?”
“You’re so suspicious, Mr. Rugby! No, the deal is that I think you should acquire the Nutt property.”
“I don’t have a million dollars.”
“You posted three million in bail, didn’t you?”
“My new employer posted it for me.”
“Just tell them to buy you the house.” She leaned forward and laid her hand on my forearm. “Did you know that property is as good as cash for a bond? I double-checked the legalities yesterday afternoon. Your employer could convert part of the bond money into a deed on the house and simply post the deed. Your trial and appeals could drag on for a year or more, and in that time, the Nutt property would probably appreciate by twenty percent. As long as that million dollars just sits there as bond, it isn’t drawing any interest whatsoever. If I work like mad, I can put the whole deal through in thirty days!”
“Well…”
“Just give me the name of the person you called to get your bail.”
“I… ” Again I felt like a rabbit running from a locomotive. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not sure I want that house, and I don’t want to turn around and ask my new boss for another big favor right off the bat.”
“What did you say his name was? He’s at Seven Lucky Overseas?” She was watching me closely, trying to read my face.
“Will you get off my case!” My voice was rising.
“Now, now!” It was Gretchen, dressed in red stirrup pants and a black blouse.
“How did this leech find out I’m here, Gretchen? I still can’t believe you’re friends with her!”
“Gretchen and I were looking out the front window of Welsh amp; Tayke yesterday,” said Susan Poker, looking pleased that I was beginning to lose my cool. “We were just sitting there leeching around. I spotted you walking by, and Gretchen took off after you. She said if she didn’t come back it meant she’d picked you up again! I made her promise that if she did, she’d let me come for breakfast.” She gestured cheerfully with her coffee cup. “Speaking of breakfast, Gretchen, can we have some toast?”
I felt like a moth being wrapped in spider silk: snared, envenomed, paralyzed, cocooned, and slowly sucked dry-or made the living host of eyeless larvae. I tried to struggle, to shake the web. “Have either of you heard of Hex DEF6?” I demanded. “Out with it!”
“Hex deaf sex?” giggled Susan Poker-a bit too glibly?
“What are you talking about, Jerzy?” asked Gretchen, bringing the toast.
“Hex DEF6 is the name of a simmie I talked to in cyberspace. It was Monday, the same day the ants scared you, Gretchen. That night I put the goggles back on and I flew out of the ant cloud you’d been in. One of the ants got big and it carried me back to the ants’ cyberspace nest. Inside the nest was this simmie that looked like Death and said his name was Hex DEF6. There was a Susan Poker simmie in there too. Were you in it Susan?”
“Me in cyberspace?” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m computer illiterate. Are you sure you saw a simmie of me?”
“Well, it might have just been there to scare me,” I allowed. “The whole scene was pretty weird. Instead of a mouth, Hex DEF6 had a metal zipper with a padlock on it.”
“Could he talk?” asked Gretchen.
“Yes. He said that he’d hurt me and my children if I didn’t go work for-” I stopped myself from saying more.
“For Seven Lucky Overseas,” finished Susan Poker.
“That’s not the name they’re using!” I exclaimed happily, and bit into my toast. Once you got used to Susan Poker she was sort of amusing. She was so totally out front about her nosiness and pushiness. A born Realtor.
“Have you considered selling your story to the press?” asked Susan Poker. “You could go on ‘Sixty Minutes.’”
“There’s nothing but amateur TV anymore,” reminded Gretchen.
“Well, when the networks come back,” said Susan Poker, sipping her coffee. “You need an agent, Mr. Rugby. I could do it for fifteen percent. I’ve got more connections than you realize.”
Done with eating, I shook my head and stood up.
“Good-bye, ladies. It was fun, Gretchen. I’ll call.”
“How will you get to work?” demanded Susan Poker. “Can I give you a ride?”
“And where will you stay tonight?” asked Gretchen. “Are you going to come back here?”
“ I’ll call. I am not going to discuss every goddamn detail of my life in front of Susan Poker.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Rugby,” said Susan Poker.
Gretchen followed me into the hall and gave me a giggling kiss. This was all pretty funny, I guess. Love makes everything funny. Love? Yes, I loved Gretchen, though that didn’t mean much. Love is, after all, an elastic concept; like many men, I fall in love several times every day. So why not say it.
“I love you, Gretchen.”
“I like that in a man.” She pursed her lips and planted a kiss on me, just like Carol used to do. “Have a nice day. And come back. You don’t really have to take me to the Mark Hopkins.”
“Should I come back tonight?”
For the first time this morning, Gretchen looked evasive. “Well, tonight I have a date. But if you’re desperate, I’ll break it. You’re scared to go back to your own house, huh?”
“I’m going to get my car, but I’m not going to stay there.”
“Well…” While Gretchen hesitated, Susan Poker briefly popped her head out of Gretchen’s door for a peek at what was taking us so long. If the loathsome Susan Poker was in this space, why was I so intent on trying to stay here? For more sex with Gretchen? But I’d just finished realizing that sex could happen with lots of different women, right?
“Gretchen, enjoy your date and don’t worry about where I stay. I’ve got it together.” I tapped the top of my head to mime the togetherness that I hoped would soon arrive. “I’ll call tomorrow. And don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the Mark Hopkins.”
Key in hand, I made my way up Tangle Way. The notice was still on my front door, but I didn’t dare go close enough to read it. There were a half-dozen reporters sitting in their cars. My driveway was clear. Moving quickly, I got in my Animata and drove off, shaking the pursuit cars on the freeway to West West.