Equally clear was that the gorgeous Krista was available to Byron Stonebridge and the glamorous blonde Rhetta to Harold Austin.
The exquisitely beautiful Japanese girl Moonbeam was seldom more than a fey: feet away from G. G. Quartermain.
The Quartermain menage, one of a half dozen owned by the Supranational chairman in various countries, was on Prospero Ridge, high above Nassau city and with a panoramic view of land and sea The house was in landscaped grounds behind high stone walls. Heyward's room on the second floor, to which Avril escorted him on arrival, commanded the view. It also afforded a glimpse, through trees, of the house of a near-neighbor the prime minister, his privacy protected by patrolling Royal Bahamian Police.
In late afternoon they had drinks beside a colonnaded swimming pool. Dinner followed, served on a terrace out of doors, by candlelight. This time the girls, who had shed their uniforms and were superbly gowned, joined the men at table. Hovering white-gloved waiters sewed while two strolling players added music. Companionship and conversation flowed.
After dinner, while Vice-President Stonebridge and Krista elected to stay on at the house, the others entered a trio of Rolls-Royces cars which had met them at Nassau Airport earlier and were driven to the Paradise Island gambling casino. There Big George played heavily and appeared to win. Austin participated mildly, Roscoe Heyward not at all. Heyward disapproved of gambling but was interested in Avril's description of the finer points of chemin de fer, roulette, and blackjack, which were new to him. Because of the hum of other conversations, Avril kept her face close to Heyward's while she talked and, as on the airplane earlier, he found the sensation not unpleasing
But then, with disconcerting suddenness, his body began taking greater cognizance of Avril so that ideas and inclinations which he knew to be reprehensible were increasingly hard to banish. He sensed Avril's amused awareness of his struggle, which failed to help. Finally, at his bedroom door to which she escorted him at 2 A.M., it was with the greatest effort of will particularly when she showed a willingness to linger that he did not invite her in.
Before Avril left for wherever her own room was, she swirled her red hair and told him, smiling, "There's an intercom beside the bed. If there's anything you want, press button number seven and I’ll come." This time there was no doubt of what "anything" meant. And the number seven, it seemed, was a code for Avril wherever she might be.
Inexplicably his voice had thickened and his tongue seemed oversized as he informed her, "Thank you, no. Good night." Even then his inner conflict was not over. Undressing, his thoughts returned to Avril and he saw to his chagrin that his body was undermining his will's resolve. It had been a long time since, unbidden, it had happened.
It was then that he had fallen on his knees and prayed to God to protect him from sin and relieve him of temptation. And after a while, it seemed, the prayer was answered. His body drooped with tiredness. Later still, he slept.
Now, as they drove down the sixth fairway, Big George volunteered, "Look, fella, tonight if you like I’ll send Moonbeam to you. A man wouldn't believe the tricks that little lotus blossom knows."
Heyward's face flushed. He decided to be firm "George, I'm enjoying your company and I'd like to have your friendship. But I must tell you that in certain areas our ideas differ." The big man's features stiffened. "In just what areas?" "I imagine, moral ones."
Big George considered, his face a mask. Then suddenly he guffawed. "Morals what are they?" He stopped the cart as the Honorable Harold prepared to hit from a fairway bunker on their left. "Okay, Roscoe, cut it your way. Just tell me if you change your mind."
Despite the firmness of his resolution, over the next two hours Heyward found his imagination turning to the fragile and seductive Japanese girl.
At the end of nine holes, on the course, Big George resumed his fifth hole argument with Byron Stonebridge.
"The U.S. goverurnent and other governments," Big George declared, "are being run by those who don't, or won't, understand economic principles. It's a reason the only reason we have runaway inflation. It's why the world's money system is breaking down. It's why everything moneywise can only get worse."
"I'll go part way with you on that," Stonebridge told him. "The way Congress is spending money, you'd think the supply is inexhaustible. We've supposedly sane people in the House and Senate who believe that for every dollar coming in you can safely put out four or five."
Big George said impatiently, "Every businessman knows that. Known it for a generation. The question is not if, but when, will the American economy collapse?" "I'm not convinced it has to. We could still avert it."
"Could, but won't. Socialism which is spending money you don't have and never will is too deep-rooted. So there comes a point when government runs out of credit. Fools think it can't happen. But it will."
The Vice-President sighed. "In public I'd deny the truth of that. Here, among us privately, I can't."
"The sequence which is coming," Big George said, "is easy to predict. It'll be much the way things went in Chile. A good many think that Chile was different and remote. It wasn't. It was a small-scale model of the U.S.A. and Canada and Britain."
The Honorable Harold ventured thoughtfully, "I agree with your point about sequence. First a democracy solid, world-acknowledged, and effective. Then socialism, mild at first but soon increasing. Money spent wildly until nothing's left. After that, financial ruin, anarchy, dictatorship."
"No matter how much in a hole we get," Byron Stonebridge said, "I'll not believe we'd go that far."
"We wouldn't need to," Big George told him. "Not if some of us with intelligence and power think ahead, and plan. When financial collapse comes, in the U.S. we've two strong arms to stop us short of anarchy. One is big business. By that I mean a cartel of multi-national companics like mine, and big banks like yours and others, which could run the country financially, exerting fiscal discipline. We would be solvent because of worldwide operation; we'd have put our own resources where inflation didn't swallow them. The other strong arm is the military and police. In partnership with big business, they'd keep order."
The Vice-President said drily, "In other words, a police state. You might encounter opposition."
Big George shrugged. "Some maybe; not much. People will accept the inevitable. Especially when democracy, so-called, has split apart, the money system shattered, individual purchasing power nil. Besides that, Americans don't believe in democratic institutions any more. You politicians undermined them."
Roscoe Heyward had kept silent, listening. Now he said, "What you foresee, George, is an extension of the present military-industrial complex into an elitist government."
"Exactly! And industrial-military I prefer it that way is becoming stronger as American economics wealcen. And we've organization It's loose, but tightening fast."
"Eisenhower was first to recognize the military-industrial structure," Heyward said. "And warn against it," Byron Stonebridge added.
"Hell, yes!" Big George agreed. "And more fool him! Ike, of all people, should have seen the possibilities for strength. Don't you?"
The Vice-President sipped his Planter's Punch. "This is off the record. But yes, I do."
"I’ll say this," Big George assured him, "you're one who should be joining us."
The Honorable Harold asked, "How much time, George, do you believe we have?"
"My own experts tell me eight to nine years. By then, collapse of the money system is inevitable."