“Why?” I said.
“Hell, why not? I gave him his start, didn’t I? I knew him when and all that crap. So now he’s married into society or whatever they call it here and he lives out in that yacht of his that he named The Chicago Belle and ain’t that a hell of a name for a yacht?”
“He’s probably just sentimental.”
“I thought he was from L.A. At least that’s what he told me. He also told me that he used to be in pictures, but I sure never saw him in any.”
“He was in pictures,” I said.
“Is that where you knew him, in L.A.?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re a friend of his?”
“Let’s just say I know him.”
Nash took another giant swallow of beer. “Well, it’s like I said, I don’t think he’s too anxious to see you.”
“What makes you think so?”
“The guy in the back of the taxi, the one that took a shot at you.”
“What about him?”
“He works for Sacchetti.”
I suppose I didn’t have to say anything. It was all there in my face and I found that it took a conscious effort to close my mouth. Nash grinned at me.
“Not used to getting shot at, huh?”
“Not for real.”
“Well, if you think it over and still want to find him, I’ll run you out in my launch. You can get me at this number.” He wrote something on a scrap of paper with a ballpoint pen and handed it to me.
“Why stick your neck out?” I said.
Nash waved his hand in a deprecatory gesture. “Hell, we’re both Americans, aren’t we?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I almost forgot again.”
Chapter XIV
I had just stripped off my clothes and was fiddling with the handles on the shower in the immense bath-cum-dressing-room that the Raffles provides its guests when I heard the knock. I wrapped a towel around my middle, went to the door, and asked who it was.
“Carla.”
I opened the door. “Come on in. I was just about to take a shower. You can join me if you like.”
She came into the room wearing another dress that I hadn’t seen, a tan silk sheath that emphasized her figure through indirection. She sank into a chair, crossed her legs so that I couldn’t miss anything interesting, and ran her eyes over me slowly as if reappraising a painting that had turned out to be more interesting than she had thought at first glance.
“You have good shoulders,” she said. “And your stomach’s nice and flat. I like flat stomachs. Most of the men I know have pots, even the young ones. They have that little roll that hangs over their belts and turns their pants tops down.”
“They just need a new tailor to move the belt loops up.”
“I thought you were going to knock on my door when you got back,” she said.
“I wanted to smell nice for you.”
“How sweet. Have you got anything to drink?”
“No, but you can order a bottle. Just ring that bell over there and the houseboy will bring it.” I turned and headed for the bathroom again.
“Take your time,” she said.
I was taking my time by letting the hot water beat down on the shoulder that had landed on the cement sidewalk when a hand reached in and tapped me on that same shoulder. Carla Lozupone pulled the heavy shower curtains aside and stepped into the bath. “I decided to take you up on the invitation,” she said. I couldn’t see any reason to scream so I put my arms around her and found her mouth hungry and her hands curious, then demanding. We left the shower running and made it to the bed where she looked up at me, ran her pink tongue over her lips, and said, “Say them to me.”
“What?”
“The words.”
So I said the words that I thought she wanted to hear, most of them with four letters, invented a few more, and her eyes glistened and her hands became more frantic and her mouth demanded everything. Afterwards she lay staring up at the ceiling as her hands ran over breasts and down to her thighs.
“You’re as good as you look,” she said. “Even better. I like it that way.”
“What way?”
“In a hotel when it’s casual and exciting and sensual. Like when it’s with a stranger almost. But don’t get any ideas, Cauthorne.”
“About what?”
“About me.”
“I was just going to comment that you’re a pretty good lay. One of the best, in fact.”
“We didn’t do everything.”
“No, I suppose we didn’t.”
She propped herself up on her left elbow and her right hand went exploring again. I noticed that the pout was gone and that her tongue was once more playing around her lower lip. “Would you like to try everything?” she said.
“I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t.” And we did. At least there wasn’t anything else that either of us could think of, and she had a rather fertile imagination.
After we were dressed and the houseboy had brought a bottle of Ballantine’s, and some sandwiches and Carla was on her second drink, she looked at me and said, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Well, what happened?”
“You mean now that sex time’s over let’s get down to business.”
“I take it when and where I want it, Eddie.”
“Just like a hot bath, huh?”
“Did it mean any more to you than that?”
“No, I guess it didn’t.”
“Well, what did you find out?”
“Oh, that. I found out where Angelo lives. It wasn’t hard. I could have asked the room clerk and saved a lot of time. Angelo’s a rather prominent citizen now. He’s also married, but you already knew that, didn’t you, even before you left the states, so the excuse about stalling for your father was just another lie in what I feel must be a long series of them.”
“All right,” she said. “So I knew he was married. I still have to see him.”
“Come off it, Carla. You’ve already seen him. You saw him last night after you left me. You told him that I was here and that I was looking for him and that I was going to see a man at ten o’clock this morning. You set me up, sweetheart, and when I came out of the building where I had my appointment, Angelo had somebody there to take a shot at me. It was more or less a friendly shot, just a warning. Nobody could have missed at that distance unless he was trying.”
None of what I said caused her to spill her drink. Instead, she gave the fingernails on her left hand a careful study. Then she looked up at me and smiled as if I had just complimented her on the new way that she wore her hair.
“You know what Angelo did when I told him you were in Singapore?” she said. “He laughed. He thinks you’re some kind of a joke. A none-too-funny one that he’s heard before. I don’t think he wants you around.”
“I’m sure of it,” I said.
“Then why stay?”
“Because I want to see him.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s enough.”
She shook her head. “You’re keeping it all very nice and cozy, aren’t you? Angelo laughed until I told him that you were hooked up with his godfather. Then he quit laughing. Why did Uncle Charlie pick you as my babysitter, Cauthorne? Not just because he likes the dimple in your smile, although I’ve heard that he swings that way sometimes.”
“I was available and I was anxious to see Angelo.”
“No,” she said. “There’s something else. My Uncle Charlie wouldn’t have gone outside if there weren’t something else.”