Binky watches too much television and is beginning to talk like a script composed by ten scribes locked in a room with an unlimited supply of legal pads, pencils, and Jim Beam.. The only thing I wanted to reconnoiter on Bianca’s behalf was unmentionable, for which I did not need Binky’s help as usual.
“I’m sorry to say, Binky, that she doesn’t have much of a case. I talked to Al Rogoff this afternoon and it seems the police are satisfied that Bianca’s former employer met with an accident. After hearing the facts, I would have to agree.”
Quick to tell me how well he had integrated into the ebb and flow of life at the Palm Court, Binky disclosed, “Al had Chinese takeout last night, too. Sweet-and-sour pork and spring rolls.”
I was losing patience, a common consequence of a one-on-one with Binky.
“What Al had for dinner last night does not change or help Bianca’s case. Her only clue, the barbell, was being used as a paperweight in the garage and not for bopping the lady of the house senseless. This has been confirmed by the housekeeper.”
“Why couldn’t he have taken the barbell from the garage, used it to knock her out, then return it to the garage?”
My exasperation took the form of a sigh that came deep from within. But we are told to suffer the children, so I explained, “Because he had no reason to do her in, Binky. He doesn’t inherit anything but what might be due him as her legal spouse. In fact he may soon be looking for a rental in the Palm Court.”
“I hope not, Archy. Bianca hates him.”
And I’m afraid she’s allowed her feelings to warp her common sense. I did say I would go with her to meet this Antony Gilbert, and now I’m sorry I did.” Fearing Binky would burst into tears at this, I quickly stated that I would honor my promise, “However futile the effort.”
All smiles, Binky expressed his gratitude. I’m glad, Archy. Bianca really appreciates my help in putting her in touch with you. Anything you do will make her feel better and if you have to let her down I hope you can do it easy, you know what I mean?”
Indeed I did know. I intended to let her down over a cozy supper for two across a candlelit table overlooking a moonlit ocean. How to transport her in my red Miata from the Palm Court to a restaurant, unseen by her ever watchful neighbors, would tax the expertise of a general moving an army across a terrain rigged with land mines. I had been known to rent a Ford or a Chevy for trailing on stakeouts and might have to resort to that maneuver in the courtship of Bianca Courtney. Then, poor Binky once again aided and abated me in my determination to succumb to lust and debauchery.
Are you having dinner with us tonight, Archy?” Binky asked.
“Us? Who’s us?” Was I to be included in another Chinese takeout orgy?
“Connie and me. She’s taking me to the Pelican tonight to celebrate my move to the Palm. I think she bought me something, Archy, because she wanted to know what my color scheme was in my bath.”
“Really? And what is your color scheme?”
“The tile and walls and basin are white, so I told her white was my scheme.”
And my scheme was unfurled before me like bunting at a political convention. With Binky and Connie at the Pelican, I could pick up Bianca without being seen by Binky and not have to worry about running into Connie. Things were looking up. It was a dastardly plan, but all’s fair in love and war and wooing in a trailer park. And if Connie ever learned she was playing decoy for my philandering she would make a spa do out of me in dos minutos. The danger was an aphrodisiac to my senses. Lucky Bianca.
“I’m sorry, Binky, but I can’t join you. I have a previous engagement.
Give Connie my love.”
“I’ll tell her, Archy.” Before leaving he said with a contrived show of modesty, “I have to report to Mrs. Trelawney at four. What do you suppose that’s all about?”
That was all about Binky’s housewarming. The participating staff would get there fifteen minutes before four, with their loot, and shout surprise when the new leaseholder entered, all agog. What schmaltz. I had to remember to tell Binky to make a list of who gave him what so when recompense time rolled around in the form of Lucy’s wedding, Moe’s retirement, and little Jason’s bris, he could respond in kind. “You know very well what it’s all about, young man. You will walk into Mrs.
Trelawney’s office bereft of household furnishings and emerge better stocked than Sears. You’ll not get it all into your car in one trip.”
“I rented a U-Haul,” he boasted.
“Don’t you think that was a little presumptuous?”
“You always told me to come prepared, Archy, remember?”
Unfortunately, I do remember. That rash counsel led to Binky purchasing a gross of condoms, which he keeps in the trunk of his car.
If he ever gets stopped and searched I’d like to be present when he explains the cache. “Enjoy your moment in the sun,” I told him.
“You won’t be there?”
“No. I don’t attend office galas; that’s why I brought my gift to your door.”
To Bianca’s door,” he corrected.
“Yes. To Bianca’s door.”
Binky left, momentarily, and returned with, “Who was in the stretch limo, Archy?”
Poor Dickey Cranston. The only person who didn’t know about his car being at the Palm was Her Majesty unless, of course, she had ordered Chinese takeout from the Pagoda. “None of your business, Binky.”
“That’s what I thought. See you, Archy.”
The phone rang. It was Connie inviting me to dinner at the Pelican. I told her, as I had just told Binky, that I had a previous engagement. A business engagement,” I stressed.
“What kind of business?” The ever trustful Connie stressed right back.
“The kind of business that pays the rent, that’s what kind.”
“You don’t pay rent, Archy.”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“Really? Well, make sure that’s the only figure you’ll be doing business with tonight.”
Connie has a way of belying our ‘arrangement’ that gets me right where I live. I told her I was seeing an old friend of my father’s who was eighty-six, in a wheelchair, and thought senile was a river.
“Sounds like fun,” Connie said.
“Not as much fun as dinner with you and Binky. What did you get the boy?”
Two bath towels, two hand towels, and two face cloths. All in royal blue.”
“But his scheme is white.”
“The room is white,” Connie said. “It must be like living inside a giant eggshell. It cries out for contrast.” A moment later she was jabbering, “And have you heard about his new girl? She lives next door. Binky is acting like a schoolboy.”
“I’ve never known Binky to act like anything but. And he’s had crushes before this. In fact he’s seldom without one.”
“But never one right next door, Archy. With Binky it’s usually out of sight, out of mind, but with this one he’ll very seldom be out of sight. He’s going to tell me all about her tonight.”
Not unless I killed him first and hid his body in the U-Haul. Binky would tell Connie how he had so gallantly brought Archy and Bianca Courtney together in the interest of justice. He would bare the saga of the microwave drop-off, the date to visit her former place of employment, etc.” etc.” and et al. By the time he finished, Connie would be shredding the royal-blue bath towels with her painted talons.
God help me. But why should he? I’m a cad.
“Connie,” I began, not knowing what would come next.
“Gotta go, Archy. Madam is buzzing. Can you get her a meeting with Sabrina Wright? She keeps asking.”
“Sabrina Wright and I are incommunicado.. ” Click. The line went dead, but not for long. Before I could formulate Binky’s demise it rang again.
“Archy McNally here.”
“You black-hearted swine. You two-timing sod. What happened to my interview with Sabrina Wright? I told my editor it was in the bag and he reserved space. I now have a lot of space to fill and nothing to fill it with except, hopefully, your obit.”