Lindy didn’t reply for a few seconds, but kept standing there very still. Then she said:
“Of course it’s the real thing. What would be the point, giving you any old junk? There was an injustice about to be committed, but now justice has prevailed. That’s all that matters. Hey, sweetie, come on. You know you’re the one who deserves this award.”
“I appreciate your viewpoint. It’s just that… well, this is kind of like stealing.”
“Stealing? Didn’t you say yourself this guy’s no good? A fake? And you’re a genius. Who’s trying to steal from who here?”
“Lindy, where exactly did you come across this thing?”
She shrugged. “Just some place. One of the places I go. An office, you’d call it maybe.”
“Tonight? You picked it up tonight?”
“Of course I picked it up tonight. I didn’t know about your award last night.”
“Sure, sure. So that was an hour ago, would you say?”
“An hour. Maybe two hours. Who knows? I was out there some time. I went to my presidential suite for a while.”
“Jesus.”
“Look, who cares? What are you so worried about? They lose this one, they can just go get another one. They’ve probably got a closet full somewhere. I presented you with something you deserve. You’re not going to turn it down, are you, Steve?”
“I’m not turning it down, Lindy. The sentiment, the honor, all of that, I accept it all, I’m really happy about it. But this, the actual trophy. We’re going to have to take it back. We’ll have to put it back exactly where you found it.”
“Screw them! Who cares?”
“Lindy, you haven’t thought this through. What will you do when this gets out? Can you imagine what the press will do with this? The gossip, the scandal? What will your public say? Now come on. We’re going out there right now before people start waking up. You’re going to show me exactly where you found this thing.”
She suddenly looked like a kid who’d been scolded. Then she sighed and said: “I guess you’re right, sweetie.”
ONCE WE’D AGREED to take it back, Lindy became quite possessive about the award, holding it close to her bosom all the time we hurried through the passageways of the vast, sleeping hotel. She led the way down hidden stairways, along back corridors, past sauna rooms and vending machines. We didn’t see or hear a soul. Then Lindy whispered: “It was this way,” and we pushed through heavy doors into a dark space.
Once I was sure we were alone, I switched on the flashlight I’d brought from Lindy’s room and shone it around. We were in the ballroom, though if you were looking to dance just then, you’d have had trouble with all the dining tables, each one with its white linen cover and matching chairs. The ceiling had a fancy central chandelier. At the far end there was a raised stage, probably large enough to put on a fair-sized show, though right now the curtains were drawn across it. Someone had left a step-ladder in the middle of the room and an upright vacuum cleaner against the wall.
“It’s going to be some party,” she said. “Four hundred, five hundred people?”
I wandered further into the room and threw the torch beam around some more. “Maybe this is where it’s going to happen. Where they’re going to give Jake his award.”
“Of course it is. Where I found this”-she held up the statuette-“there were other ones too. Best Newcomer. R &B Album of the Year. That kind of stuff. It’s going to be a big event.”
Now my eyes had adjusted, I could see the place better, even though the flashlight wasn’t so powerful. And for a moment, as I stood there looking up at the stage, I could imagine the way the place would look later on. I imagined all the people in their fancy clothes, the record-company men, the big-time promoters, the random showbiz celebrities, laughing and praising each other; the fawningly sincere applause every time the MC mentioned the name of a sponsor; more applause, this time with whoops and cheers, when the award winners went up. I imagined Jake Marvell up on that stage, holding his trophy, the same smug smile he’d always have in San Diego when he’d finished a solo and the audience had clapped.
“Maybe we’ve got this wrong,” I said. “Maybe there’s no need to return this. Maybe we should throw it in the garbage. And all the other awards you found with it.”
“Yeah?” Lindy sounded puzzled. “Is that what you want to do, sweetie?”
I let out a sigh. “No, I guess not. But it would be… satisfying, wouldn’t it? All those awards in the garbage. I bet every one of those winners is a fake. I bet there isn’t enough talent between the lot of them to fill a hot-dog bun.”
I waited for Lindy to say something to this, but nothing came. Then when she did speak, there was some new note, something tighter, in her voice.
“How do you know some of these guys aren’t okay? How do you know some of them don’t deserve their award?”
“How do I know?” I felt a sudden tide of irritation. “How do I know? Well, think about it. A panel that considers Jake Marvell the year’s outstanding jazz musician. What other kind of people are they going to honor?”
“But what do you know about these guys? Even this Jake fella. How do you know he didn’t work really hard to get where he has?”
“What is this? You’re Jake’s greatest fan now?”
“I’m just expressing my opinion.”
“Your opinion? So this is your opinion? I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. For a moment there, I was forgetting who you were.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? How dare you speak to me that way?!”
It occurred to me I was losing my grip. I said quickly: “Okay, I’m out of line. I’m sorry. Now let’s go find this office.”
Lindy had gone silent, and when I turned to face her, I couldn’t see well enough in the light to guess what she was thinking.
“Lindy, where’s this office? We need to find it.”
Eventually, she indicated with the statuette towards the back of the hall, then led the way past the tables, still not speaking. When we were there, I put my ear against the door for a few seconds, and hearing nothing, opened it carefully.
We were in a long narrow space that seemed to run parallel with the ballroom. A dim light had been left on somewhere, so we could just about make things out without the flashlight. It was obviously not the office we were after, but some kind of catering-cum-kitchen area. Long extended work counters ran along both walls, leaving a gangway down the middle wide enough for staff to put final touches to the food.
But Lindy seemed to recognise the place and went striding purposefully down the gangway. About halfway along, she stopped suddenly to examine one of the baking trays left on the counter.
“Hey, cookies!” She seemed completely to have regained her equanimity. “Too bad it’s all under cellophane. I’m famished. Look! Let’s see what’s under this one.”
She went on a few more steps, to a big dome-shaped lid, and raised it. “Look at this, sweetie. This looks really good.”
She was leaning over a plump roast turkey. Instead of replacing the lid, she laid it down carefully next to the bird.
“Do you think they’d mind if I pulled off a leg?”
“I think they’d mind a lot, Lindy. But what the hell.”
“It’s a big baby. You want to share a leg with me?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Okay. Here goes.”
She reached towards the turkey. Then suddenly she straightened and turned to face me.
“So what was that supposed to mean back there?”
“What was what supposed to mean?”
“What you were saying. When you said you weren’t surprised. About my opinion. What was that about?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be offensive. Just thinking aloud, that’s all.”
“Thinking aloud? Well, how about thinking aloud some more? So I suggest some of these guys may have deserved their awards, why is that a ridiculous statement?”
“Look, all I’m saying is that the wrong people end up with the awards. That’s all. But you seem to know better. You think that’s not what happens…”