“On the option, I dealt with Burt Lesser, Leroy and Mr. Gormin, Dial. Not for one minute did I have the impression they were ‘fronting’ for anybody, as you put it. After all, isn’t it a very straightforward development operation?”
“There’s money in it. Lots of money. I’ll feel better about the whole thing when they start to make mistakes, Martin. Then I’ll know it’s purely a local project.”
“Aren’t you in favor of the Turk’s Island plan, Di?” Eloise asked in a chilly tone.
“I think it’s just delicious, sweetie,” Di said. “Let’s all drink to the Eleanor Marrinar Cable Foundation, and to truth, beauty and all the little old lady bird-watchers in tennis shoes, to marine biology, public hearings and all the good gray gentlemen of the Chamber of Commerce. Sorry you’ve resigned from our ball club, Martin, my boy. We’re playing in a tough league this year. We’ll miss you.”
“If it wasn’t for the bank...”
“I know. Eloise explained it to me, and very nicely indeed.”
“I think we should be getting back, dear,” Eloise said to her husband. The Cables left about fifteen minutes later, disappearing into the darkness, and then reappearing thirty yards along Gulf Lane under the small glow of one of the few streetlights in the Estates.
Di said, “Ladies, I am still paranoid.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claire said. She had climbed out of the pool to say goodnight to the Cables. She sat on the foot of Kat’s chaise. Dial sat on the redwood table, his powerful legs dangling, looking down at them.
“Our Eloise has taken a hell of an interest in the dreary world of commerce. Whenever poor Martin talked business, she’d yawn and whine. All of a sudden she’s the helpful little woman. Martin thinks it’s cute. I think it’s very strange. How does it strike you, Kat?”
“It’s a little out of character, maybe. But she could just have decided to take an interest.”
“Or she could be working on Martin, as a favor for a friend. A shrew friend could tell her just what line to take with Martin.”
“She doesn’t act as bored as she used to,” Claire said.
“Martin wouldn’t be a very stimulating husband,” Di said. “She’d be a damn fool to play around. She’s got everything to lose. But she’s a crafty one. I think she has a taste for intrigue.”
“Have you checked her out, dear?” Claire asked, too sweetly.
“I haven’t had the time, the energy or the impulse, sweetheart.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t have.”
“I’m sure you will, love. But forgive me for saying I do have a kind of an instinct for such opportunities. I’d mark her possible, but not probable. My interest is totally academic.”
“See that you keep it that way, buster,” Claire ordered.
“With your help, dear.”
“I better be off too,” Kat said. “You understand why I couldn’t say much. I do work for...”
“We understand,” Claire said. “Di wanted you nearby to listen.”
“And now I want to know what you think,” Di said.
“I guess I feel sort of depressed. The way it’s organized, it’s like a steamroller. I can’t really blame Martin for what he’s doing.”
“But given a choice, Martin always prefers to do nothing. So he’s been pushed. By Lady Eloise. That’s what’s odd.”
“Well, thanks for the drinks and steak,” Kat said.
“Walk her home, Di, and walk Nat back, please. That damn Gus makes me nervous this time of night.”
They renewed their repellent spray and walked toward Kat’s house through the dark night. Di carried a small flashlight.
They had not gone far before he sighed audibly and said, “I really think you ought to sit this one out, Kat.”
“But I couldn’t!” she said. “It’s something I believe in, Di. Gosh, you know how hard Van and I worked that last time.”
“I know, I know. But I have the feeling this one is going to be a little gamey. We fought outsiders last time. This time it’s a civil war, and that’s the kind which can get nasty. I’m going by instinct on this. I have the feeling I’d like to check Lady Eloise out and see if I could come up with something that would turn Martin against the whole scheme. Now, if I can think in those terms, the opposition can too. We’re so damn vulnerable it scares me.”
“Vulnerable? What do you mean, Di?”
“Take a look at our Executive Committee, honey. Pretend you’re an electrician’s wife, and the Grassy Bay deal will give your husband steady work for a long time. Who are the people trying to block it? First, most of them live down there on Sandy Key, so that makes them rich folks. Now look at the individuals who ramrod the S.O.B.’s. That name, by the way, is too sassy. This time it may hurt more than help. The Executive Committee is made up of two retired army officers, one man who retired too soon and got married too often, one dilettante advertising phony, one wife of a magazine artist, one widow of a young architect, one weird old lady amateur scientist, and one pansy gallery director. Who are those nuts to try to take the bread out of our children’s mouths? They just don’t want their view spoiled. They’re just a bunch of rich, nutty, degenerate Communists.”
“Di!”
“It can get that bad, kid, and we are a slightly strange group, you must admit. But I’d guess we’re probably typical of the strange groups all over the country who are fighting with absolute sincerity to protect the countryside from the uglifiers, from the spoilers, the asphalters, the sign merchants, the tree haters. But, God, how vulnerable we are! I just hope they concentrate on trying to make us look silly, the way the Lauderdale group tried. But I have a feeling they’ll use heavier weapons. Hell, it doesn’t matter to me. There’s no way they can touch me. But maybe you ought to make this one a spectator sport.”
“I’m not hiding anything. There’s no way they can hurt me either, Di.”
They were in front of her house. He stopped her and took hold of her hands. “If they find a way to hurt, Kat, just don’t get all choked up with valor. Get right out, will you?”
“But I don’t see how...”
“Then be cautious, honey. Don’t quack with strangers. Wear your life belt at all times, and be ready to abandon ship. The rest of us will understand, and Van would understand too.”
“I’ll be careful, Di, but I...”
“Let’s get this sitter off duty. Miss Natalie Sinnat, the sweet dreamer.”
“She’s a wonderful girl, Di.”
“Excuse me if I agree.”
Natalie looked up quickly as they walked in. She put her book aside and stood up. “So soon?” she said, smiling.
“Martin Cable passed out early,” Di said. “Fell right off his chair wearing a wide drunken smile. Eloise slung him over her shoulder and packed him off home.”
“Again?” Natalie said, shocked and solemn, her eyes sparkling. “The kids were utter lambs, Kat, as usual. No phone calls. I dipped into the Coke supply.”
Her father looked at the four empty bottles on the coffee table and said, “Don’t you mean you wallowed in it, child?”
She blushed visibly and immediately and said most casually, “Oh, Jigger saw me walk the kids home and he came with us and hung around for a while.”
“Indeed!” Di said. “Isn’t he a little young for you? A gloriously beautiful chunk of muscle, I grant you, but that Lesser boy can’t be over seventeen. I’ve made attempts to talk with him, but he seems to have the same shining emptiness as a brass spittoon, child.”