“It’s not you! Can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
The silence called for a remorseful apology.
“I’m sorry, Betsy. I didn’t mean that last crack. I got something on my mind, and I can’t shake it. Honest, it’s got nothing to do with you … nothing to do with us.” He patted her hand. “I’ll work it out. I gotta do that on my own.”
He rose from the couch. He couldn’t think of another thing to say or do to Betsy. He took his topcoat from the back of the chair and left her apartment.
Betsy didn’t know whether to believe his words or his actions. Had something she’d done or said ruined her chances at Virago?
She would not get much sleep this night.
Jake sat in his car. He did not dare turn the key, much less drive just now. He was far too distracted, an accident waiting to happen. He’d have to think this through.
Outside of a few hours today, the last time he had felt good about things was when he’d thought Moe was dead. That euphoria was shattered when Moe returned from the dead.
The conclusion was inevitable. He didn’t want to face it, but-death was the only solution. After all, anybody who killed Moses Green would be doing the world a favor.
But if he were going to do it, he’d have to plan very carefully. The problem scarcely would be solved if he ended up in Jacktown doing life without parole.
He was confident he could come up with a well-thought-out scheme, but time was a factor. If he was going to do it, it was now or never.
Suddenly, he was quite calm. He might even have been able to make it with Betsy if he hadn’t just left her. It would make no sense to return at this point. And there was more pressing business.
Now he was relaxed and able to drive. And while he drove he could plot.
Contemplating a world without Moe Green was enjoyable. As he began to plot, he realized it wasn’t so much a matter of coming up with a single scenario as it was a process of casting aside a series of possibilities in favor of the perfect plan.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sign read, PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF.
Three well-dressed, good-looking young people glanced at the sign, conferred briefly, and headed for a booth in the rear of the restaurant. Two, a man and a woman, were white; the other man was black.
“It’s like having your own private club,” David Green said.
“It’s way too late for any of Big Boy’s regular clientele to be here,” Bill Gray said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Judith Green replied. “I don’t know anybody who ever went to a Big Boy.”
They had selected the Big Boy restaurant for their late-night meeting for all of the reasons above.
There would be few customers at this late hour. Indeed, the three were the only patrons in the entire place. Even if others had been there, the likelihood of any recognition between a Big Boy regular and any of these three was minimal.
It was even better than a private club. In a club they surely would know someone or someone would know them.
Of the two waitresses, neither gave any indication of taking her duties seriously. That was no problem for the purposes of this trio; they were not there out of hunger or thirst.
“So,” Judith opened, “how’s it going with you, Davie?”
“As well as can be expected,” he said, borrowing hospital jargon. “How about you, Bill?”
“Making progress,” Gray said. “Progress is our most important product.”
“For the love of Christ, will you guys let up?” Judith was irritated. “We didn’t come here to trade cliches.”
“Well,” David said, “you’re the one who called this meeting-or was it the two of you?” he asked, including Bill.
“It wasn’t the two of us,” Gray insisted.
Judith took full responsibility. “I think it’s important for us to meet. As of Monday night, there was positively no reason whatsoever for us to get together, especially on the sly.”
“Let’s see …” David was toying with his sister. “What could have happened Monday night?”
Bill seemed amused by the sibling baiting. “Your father-my future father-in-law-rose from the dead … don’t you remember?”
“Don’t get cute,” Judith snapped. “We all know what happened. Our problems were solved. Until that unfortunate turn of circumstances.
“What I want to know, and what I want all of us to be aware of, is where we stand now with Daddy.” She paused. “I’ll-”
Before she could finish her sentence, a waitress loomed over them, bearing menus.
“We don’t need menus,” Judith said. “Just bring water and three coffees, regular.”
“Wait-”
“Three coffees, regular.” Judith, ignoring her fiance’s interpolation, drove home her point.
As the waitress turned to leave, Judith said to Bill, “I know you take decaf. But we don’t have time to fool with a dumb waitress. Besides, we want to be wide awake and alert.”
How like Mother, thought David. How very much like Mother.
“I haven’t seen Dad since Monday night,” Judith said. “How about you?”
Both men shook their heads.
“But,” she continued, “I did get a call from him.” She looked pointedly first at Bill, then at David.
Bill shook his head. David nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “So far, it’s what I expected. I can almost guess what the old bastard told you, Davie. But first I’ll give you a brief rundown of what he said to me.
“He said he still opposed my marriage.”
“Did the word nigger come up?”
“That’s immaterial, honey. Let me finish. He opposed the marriage … but he was willing to compromise.”
Bill snorted.
“Hear it out,” she said. “He would not attend.”
“There’s a blow!”
“He would not attend. But he would contribute a third of the cost.”
“What?!” Bill almost stood. “We don’t need-we don’t want his money.”
“I know that. He’s almost forcing the money on us because he’s tied that to destroying that tape of Jake and me.”
Silence.
The waitress returned with the coffee. “Will that be all?” Her sarcasm was obvious.
Judith laid a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “That’s for you, sweetie. Just keep the coffee coming.”
“Is the coffee part of the twenty?”
Judith added a ten-dollar bill to the twenty. “You pay for the coffee, sweetie, and keep the rest.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She almost saluted.
“As I was saying,” Judith recommenced as the waitress retreated, “Daddy promised he would destroy the tape.”
This time it was David who snorted. “And you believe him? And all you’ve got to do is accept some dough? Not a bad deal. The old man must have a hole in his IV tube.”
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Bill said. He’s not coming to the wedding … so what! Who’ll miss him? Next, he demands that we accept his money-and in return he’ll destroy the tapes he threatened to use to embarrass you and cripple my potential practice.”
“You’re quite right, dear,” Judith said. “On the face of it, there’s no point to his offer.”
“Which means,” David said, “that there’s more to it than meets the eye. Like Gilbert wrote, ‘Things are seldom what they seem.’ What’s he got in mind?” He looked from one to the other. “Any ideas?”
“My guess,” Judith said, “is that he’ll find some way of using the money gift as a debt we owe him. Dad always does things like that-at least he has with me. He gives something with one hand and he takes it back-with interest-with the other hand.”
Bill nodded. “So what you’re saying is that we don’t know what he’s going to demand of us. We’re just sure there’s no free lunch. Somehow, sometime, he’ll demand his pound of flesh. And if we refuse his offer then he uses the tape of you and Jake.”
“That’s the way I see it,” Judith agreed. “On top of that, what’s to say that even if he gave us the tape, that he wouldn’t keep X number of copies to use if the occasion arose.”