The Deep Blue Good-by by John D MacDonald

Author:John D MacDonald
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780307827258
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2013-01-09T08:00:00+00:00

nueve

My motel windows were turning gray when I placed the overdue call to Chook. She was outraged, but when she calmed down she reported that Cathy lay listless on her hospital bed and answered questions in a small voice, in as few words as possible. And she liked Lois Atkinson. Very jumpy, sort of wild-eyed, but nice. They talked dance. Lois had studied ballet when she was little, but had grown too tall. And when was I coming back? That evening probably. Friday. The sun was visible from Florida, but it hadn’t gotten to me. She was trying a replacement, temporary, for Cathy. The damned girl was fair, but she kept getting so winded you could hear her gasping forty feet away. Hurry home, darling McGee.

I slept until ten, arranged afternoon airline connections, then phoned my questions to a sly elderly angle-player in New York, an old friend, a quaint hustler of the unwary marks, a sometime dealer in everything from faked Braque to union dues, from gossip column items to guest shots. I said he would hear from me again.

I checked out and had a quick breakfast and went to George Brell’s home. The pretty maid I had seen before had me wait inside the door while she checked with Mr. Brell. She came back and took me to him. He was propped up, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. He was in a gigantic circular bed, with a pink canopy over it. In all the luxuriant femininity of that big bedroom, George looked shrunken and misplaced, like a dead worm in a birthday cake.

He threw the paper aside and said harshly, “Shut that door and pull that chair over here and sit down, McGee.”

Pride quickly rebuilds the fallen walls. And refashions the past to fit its own requirements.

He stared at me. “You’re very cute, boy. I’d done a lot of drinking, and I was upset about Angie, and I was exhausted from all the deals I’ve been making lately.”

“I certainly took advantage of you, George.”

“I did a hell of a lot of talking, and some of it I can’t even remember. I’ve got some kind of a flu bug.”

“And I was pretty rough, George.”

“I want to know where we stand, McGee.”

“In what way?”

“I’m warning you, boy, the worst mistake you can make is try to use anything against me. I’m not about to try to buy you off, if that’s what you’re after. I can get rough too. Damned rough.”

“Are you planning on getting rough anyway?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I guess if those tax people knew exactly where to look, and what historical facts they could check out, they could come back at you with a little more ammunition, George.”

He swallowed and fumbled a cigarette out of his pack and said, “You’re not scaring me. Not a bit.”

“I think we ought to forgive and forget the whole thing, George.”

He boggled at me. “You’re not here to clip me?”

“Frankly I don’t think you’ve got enough to be worth clipping, even if I went in for that line of work.

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