«Thank heavens he got over Annie. We were all worried about him… Wait a minute! Seven kids … nine? What did his wife do, drop two and three at a time?»
«Well, we haven’t really—» Fortunately for MacKenzie Hawkins, there were several clicks on the line followed by the excited voice of an interrupting operator.
«Suite Twelve A, you have an emergency call! Please terminate your current conversation so I can connect you.»
«Bye, Ginny girl, we’ll make contact later.» MacKenzie slammed down the phone and held it in place; it rang three seconds later and he yanked it up. «This is Suite Twelve A. Who’s this?»
«Redwing, you prehistoric monster!» roared Jennifer from Swampscott, Massachusetts. «Sam heard the Brokemichael tape last night, and it was all Cyrus, Roman, and our two Desis could do to hold him down! Finally, Cyrus managed to get practically a whole bottle of whisky into him—»
«When he sobers up, he’ll come to his senses,» interrupted the Hawk. «He usually does.»
«Nice of you to say so, but, of course, we’ll never know.»
«What do you mean?»
«He’s gone!»
«That’s impossible! With my adjutants and Roman Z and the colonel all there?»
«He’s one sneaky son of a bitch, Thunder Ass. His door was closed and we figured he was still sleeping it off, then five minutes ago Roman was patrolling the beach when he saw a speedboat pull close to the shore about a quarter of a mile away and a figure run from the dunes into the water and get on board!»
«Sam?»
«Binoculars don’t lie, and Roman Z’s eyesight’s got to be damn sharp or he’d have a much longer record than he has.»
«Goddamn, there he goes again! It’s Switzerland all over again!»
«You mean when Sam tried to stop you—»
«Damn near did,» broke in MacKenzie, furiously checking his pockets with his free hand for his pacifier—namely, a mutilated cigar. «He must have used a phone and called somebody.»
«Obviously, but who?»
«How would I know? I haven’t seen him in years … still, what can he do?»
«Last night he kept shouting about the manipulators in high places, how the corruptors were selling out the country and should be exposed and he was going to expose them—»
«Yeah, he goes on a lot about that stuff, believes it, too.»
«Don’t you? I think I heard you say practically the same thing at the Ritz-Carlton, General.»
«Yeah, I believe it, but there’s a time and place to act on those principles and this isn’t it!… Yet what can he really do? A hysterical lawyer with bloodshot eyes and wet clothes running to a newspaper, like he suggested, with a story like ours? There’s no way they could confirm it; they’d call a truck from a funny farm.»
«I think I left out something,» said Jennifer.
«What?»
«He’s got the Brokemichael tape.»
«Sherman in Atlanta, you’ve got to be kidding, Redskin lady!»
«With all my Redskin heart, I wish I were. We can’t find it anywhere.»
«Holy pistols of Georgie Patton! He could nuke the whole enterprise. We’ve got to stop him!»
«How?»
«Call the Boston papers, the radio and television stations, and tell ’em all a lunatic’s escaped from the biggest mental institution in Massachusetts.»
«That won’t do much good when they hear the tape. The first thing they’ll do is make copies, then voice-print scans and match them with your friend General Brokemichael, either from newsreel tapes or just over the telephone.»
«I’ll call Brokemichael and tell him to stay off the phone!»
«The phone …?» said Jennifer pensively. «That’s it! All telephone companies have computerized printouts of every number called; it’s standard billing procedure. I’m sure Mr. Pinkus can get an immediate police order.»
«For what?»
«The number Sam called from the Birnbaum phone here! Except when you reached us early this morning, no one’s used that phone.»
«Someone did, and his name is Devereaux.»
Thanks to Aaron Pinkus’s exemplary relations with the authorities, Redwing’s suggestion was swiftly effective. «Counselor, this is Lieutenant Cafferty, Boston P.D. We have the information you want.»
«Thank you so much, Lieutenant Cafferty. Had there not been an emergency, I would never have prevailed upon your office or your kindness.»
«Hey, come on, no trouble, sir. After all, every year at the department’s annual dinner it’s always ‘Pinkus’s Corned Beef and Cabbage.’»
«An insignificant contribution compared to the services you render to our fair city.»
«Well, you just call us any time… Here’s what we got from the telephone company. During the past twelve hours there’ve been only four calls made from the Swampscott number, the last being six minutes ago to New York City—»
«Yes, we’re aware of that one, Lieutenant. The other three, please.»
«Two were to your own house, Mr. Pinkus. The first at six-thirty-three last night and then this morning—»
«Oh, yes, I was reaching Shirley, that’s my wife. I forgot.»
«We’ve all met the missus, Counselor, and a grand lady she is. So tall and graceful, sir.»
«Tall? No, actually she’s quite short; it’s her hairdo. Never mind, what’s the fourth call, please?»
«It was made on the unlisted number out there at seven-twelve this morning to the residence of Geoffrey Frazier—»
«Frazier?» interrupted Aaron involuntarily. «How extraordinary …!»
«He’s a lot of things, if you don’t mind my saying so, Mr. Pinkus, including a royal pain in the arse, forgive my language, sir.»
«I’m sure his grandfather employs far worse, Lieutenant Cafferty.»
«Oh, I’ve heard him, Counselor! Whenever we pull the lad into the tank, the old man asks if we can’t keep him a few more days.»
«Thank you very much, Lieutenant, you’ve been a great help.»
«Anytime, sir.»
Aaron replaced the phone and looked quizzically at Jennifer. «At least we know how Sam found the tape; he used Sidney’s private line in the study. That’s where we played it last night.»
«But that’s not what’s shocked you, is it? It’s someone named Frazier, right?»
«Exactly. He’s one of the most charming—I might even say lovable—men you could ever meet. A totally nice person whose parents died years ago in a plane crash when the inebriated Frazier, Senior, tried to land his seaplane on the Grand Corniche in Monte Carlo. Geoffrey was a classmate of Sam’s at Andover.»
«Then that’s why he called him.»
«I doubt it. Sam doesn’t hate people, that’s not in him, really, even MacKenzie Hawkins, as you’ve seen. But he does disapprove, disapprove deeply.»
«Disapprove—in what way, and why this Frazier?»
«Because Geoffrey’s abused and wasted his privileges. He’s a functioning alcoholic whose only purpose in life is the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain… And Sam has absolutely no use for him.»
«He did today—about ten minutes ago on the beach.»
«The general’s right, we have to stop him!» said Aaron suddenly, turning back to the phone.
«How?»
«If we knew where he went in the boat, it’d be a place to start.»
«That could be anywhere.»
«No, not really,» said Aaron. «Things have changed along the shoreline; the Coast Guard and the Power Squadrons are constantly on the alert, not only for reckless boaters, but for people bringing in illegal substances from other craft farther out. Those with houses on the beach are asked to report any suspicious activity on their water frontages.»