Abby rolled her eyes. “No way, Doris Day. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing! You said Sabrina had sworn you to secrecy, so I was careful not to jeopardize your pact with her. I told her I heard about her operation from a friend of a friend of a friend who used to be one of her girls. Trust me, babe, your name was never spoken.”
I found that heartening but hard to believe.
“So what did you say after that? What reason did you give for suddenly appearing at her apartment and sniffing around like a demented beagle?”
“I told her I was broke and wanted to join her escort service.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I said I wanted to become one of her call girls.”
Aaargh!
“Well, that’s just great,” I spluttered. “My best friend wants to be a whore.”
“Oh, shut up, Paige! You know it’s not like that. I went there for one reason, and one reason only: to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I cried, incredulous. “That’s a laugh and a half. I fail to understand how pretending you want to be a call girl-if, indeed, you were pretending-could afford me any protection at all. What the hell were you thinking?”
Abby shot me a furious look and blew another smoke ring. “Can’t you figure that out for yourself, Miss Marple? For a crime writer, you’re not too swift. My motives were simple and pure, you dig? I thought I’d talk to Sabrina for a while, and study her behavior up close, and then-if I came away from the interview convinced that she was capable of murder-I’d do whatever I could to pry you out of her evil clutches.”
“Pry?” I questioned. “Evil clutches?” I scoffed. “Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic? You make it sound as though I’d been brainwashed or something.”
“Well, it was possible, you know!” Abby said, pouting. “Sabrina was in control of your actions to a degree. And she could have been feeding you false clues, steering you to pin the murder on somebody else. And the way I saw it, you weren’t anywhere near as suspicious of her as you should have been. I mean, what if she did lead you to identify and incriminate an innocent man? Wouldn’t she then have to kill you to make sure the truth never came out? Sorry, Paige, but I was really wigged out about this. I thought you weren’t watching your back, so I decided to watch it for you.”
“Well, that was very sweet of you,” I said, with just the slightest hint of sarcasm, “but I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I was supicious of Sabrina’s motives from the outset, and-though I admit to being more focused on her list of primary suspects than I was on her-I never once lost sight of her possible involvement in the crime.
“That’s all changed now, though,” I added, giving Abby a potent Bette Davis gaze. “After my emotional heart-to-heart with Sabrina this morning, I’m convinced she would have killed herself before lifting a finger against Virginia.”
Abby nodded and smiled. “I’m with you, Lulu. Sabrina and I never discussed the murder or even mentioned Virginia ’s name, but I could tell from the way she treated me during our interview, and by the kind of questions she asked, that she’s a real mensch. Sure, she was sizing me up-trying to judge how good a prostitute I’d be-but she was also concerned about me as a person. My welfare actually mattered to her. I could see it in her eyes. I tell you, Paige, if I ever do decide to become a call girl, Sabrina’s the madam for me!”
“So, when do you start?” I asked, only half kidding.
“Tonight,” Abby said, not kidding at all.
Chapter 25
“OKAY, WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON, AB?” I SAT rigidly in my chair, struggling to keep my voice down and my emotions under control. “You’re just playing games with me, right? You haven’t actually signed on with Sabrina, have you?”
“Not yet,” Abby admitted. “She insisted that I think things over before making my final decision. I’m supposed to call her tonight and tell her if I’m ready to take the plunge.”
“And what, may I ask, do you plan to say to her?” My voice was low, but my tone was scathing.
“Nothing,” Abby said, smiling.
“Huh?”
“Nothing at all,” she repeated, eyes gleaming.
“What do you mean?” I pleaded, wondering if I’d live long enough to hear the whole story. “C’mon, Abby! Come clean! Are you going to call Sabrina or not?”
“Nope,” she said, still smiling. “I’m not going to call her, you are.”
If there had been any bedcovers nearby, I’d have pulled them over my head and nailed them in place. “I can’t take this anymore,” I said, too tired to shriek or screech. “Stop winding me up. I’m not a toy. Just tell me what’s going on in your twisted and perverted little mind.”
“Oh, all right!” Abby scowled and smashed her cigarette in the ashtray. “You’re no fun anymore, you know that? I was just fooling around a little-trying to lighten things up and have a few laughs. And where’s the harm in that? A little silliness never hurt anybody, you dig? It might even help us put things in perspective! But noooo, that’s totally impossible now, thanks to you, because you’re so sensitive and serious and impatient and boring, a girl can’t even-”
“Abby!”
“All right, already!” she snapped, raising her hands in surrender. Then she took a sip of her drink, twirled a lock of ink-black hair around her index finger, and said, “Okay, here’s the skinny, Minnie. There’s a reason you need to call Sabrina, and it’s a good one. Remember I said I would get Jimmy to take us to the Copa tonight? Well, he can’t go. He’s got a poetry gig at the Vanguard. I called around for a substitute, but all my backup boyfriends are busy, so now we’re up the creek without a male escort.
“And that’s not all,” she continued. “I also called a girlfriend of mine-a model who works the coat check at the Copa-and she told me the club is booked so tight tonight not even an ant could sneak inside. She said Corona has so many bodyguards standing around backstage his own mother couldn’t get anywhere near him.”
Kerplunk. Our scheme to ambush Tony Corona in his dressing room hit the water and sank like a stone.
“Well, that’s that,” I said, shoulders slumping in defeat. “It was a foolish idea to begin with, I guess. I should have known it wouldn’t work out.” My head was hanging so low it almost touched the table. “Now I’ll have to revert to my original plan and try to corner Corona at his hotel. It’ll be tough to crash his suite at the Plaza, and a heck of a lot more dangerous, but what other choice do I-”
“Hold the phone, Joan!” Abby broke in. “Did you lose your faith along with your sense of humor? I told you I’d dream up a scheme to get us into the Copa, didn’t I? Where’s your confidence, babe?” She arched one eyebrow to the hilt, stuck her chin out, and said, “What would you say if I told you I know a way we can catch Corona’s show tonight, be treated to a free dinner and a slew of champagne cocktails, and then be invited-that’s right, invited-backstage to his dressing room?”
“I’d say you’re playing poker with half a deck.”
Abby stretched her scarlet lips from one earlobe to the other.
“Then you’d lose the game, Mame. Because all you have to do to make this happen is call Sabrina.”
IT TOOK A WHILE FOR ABBY TO EXPLAIN HER crazy plan to me, and even longer for me to accept it. After I thought it over, however, and realized how snugly the pieces of the puzzle fit into place, I came to the conclusion that Abby’s scheme was not only feasible-it was perfect. So, without further delay, I picked up the phone and dialed Sabrina.