“It is as you wish, sir,” Holtz said, returning the knife into its sheath, then picking up the parcel, giving Radnitz a slight nod, he left the room.
Radnitz stubbed out his cigar. He felt slightly shaken. It was as if Death had walked out of the room, and Radnitz feared death: the only thing he did fear.
seven
Lu Bradey uttered a groan of despair as he saw Maggie Schultz enter the Kennedy airport check-in lobby, followed by a coloured porter pushing a trolley on which were two large suitcases and a blue vanity box.
He reached her in four long strides.
“What are you thinking of?” he demanded. “I told you to travel light for God’s sake!”
Maggie Schultz was something very special in women. She caused a male sensation wherever she went. Even now, with the check-in desk busy, male heads turned, and there were even a few suppressed whistles.
Maggie was not only beautiful in every possible way, but sex oozed from her the way treacle oozes from a can. Blonde, with thick silky hair, her body was so perfectly built fashion photographers, Playboy, Penthouse and, of course, porn specialists scrambled for her. Her face carried a please-help-me expression that raised male blood pressure.
“There you are, pet,” she cried, and throwing her arms around Bradey, gave him a kiss that caused the male audience to sigh with envy.
Bradey shoved her away.
“All this goddamn luggage! Didn’t I tell you...”
She put her hand over his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t expect me to walk around Switzerland naked, do you?”
“Okay, okay.” Bradey contained his exasperation. “Now you know what to do? Check in, take the box and go through the customs. If they ask questions tell them you are going to join friends in Geneva. Remember?”
“Yes, pet. Will this nice man take care of the rest of the luggage?”
“He’ll see you through the customs. I’ll meet you in the departure lounge.”
She kissed him again, then went over to the check-in desk and presented her ticket.
Bradey watched her finally join the queue for the baggage search.
The customs officer eyed Maggie as she came to rest before him. Man! he thought, what wouldn’t I give to drag this piece into my bed!
Maggie, reading his thoughts, gave him a big sexy smile.
“Tell me, handsome, are you married?” she asked.
The customs officer blinked, then grinned.
“Sure, I guess I am.”
“I’m so glad. You are going to search my baggage, aren’t you? Young bachelors always embarrass me. Us girls just have to take things with us, but a nice married man understands.” She presented him with a set of keys. “Do be kind and open the bags for me. I’m plain stupid with locks.”
Taking the keys, the customs officer leered at her.
“I bet you’re not stupid about other things, miss,” he said as the porter put the bags on the counter.
“Oh, I am. I’m just dizzy.” Maggie rolled her beautiful sea-green eyes. “My mother said I was born with a body, but no brains. Wasn’t that a terrible thing to say, but she was right.”
The customs officer unlocked the bags.
“I wouldn’t know, miss, but she was certainly right about one thing,” he said as he began to go through the contents of the bags, careful not to disarrange anything.
Bradey, standing at the end of the queue, watched all this. He could see Maggie was talking and talking and laughing and oozing sex, and he was glad he had brought her. He watched the customs officer open the vanity box, but as Maggie was still talking, his search was perfunctory. It occurred to Bradey that Maggie could certainly have smuggled out the icon had it been in the box. He told himself he must use Maggie’s sexual charms more often in the future.
He watched Maggie take the box, give the customs officer a wide smile and pass on to the departure lounge. The coloured porter took her bags and carried them away to the trolley waiting to be loaded.
Twenty minutes later, Bradey joined Maggie.
“He was the sweetest thing,” Maggie said. “Oh, I am so enjoying all this! And now Switzerland! Baby, this is the first time I have gone to Europe!”
At the age of thirteen, Maggie had seduced one of her school teachers who had gone to jail, and she had been put “into care.” She had run away six months later from the home, and was taken up by an elderly, rich man who liked young, pretty girls. He passed her off as his granddaughter. She had remained with him until she was fifteen, then bored with his constant demands, she took up with a coloured man who had a string of girls. She did a six months stint of street walking which she found dreary and unprofitable, not to say dangerous. She then moved to Florida where for the next two years she did “call girl” service and made a considerable amount of money which she spent, living in the kind of luxury which, at her age, satisfied her. She then met an advertising executive who immediately realized her potential. He took her to New York and introduced her to a number of his friends who got her assignments for fashion photography. She was in and out of their beds until she reached the age of twenty-one. Then she met Lu Bradey and fell in love with him: an experience that had never happened to her before. Bradey had explained to her that he was in the antique furniture business and had to do a lot of travelling, but it was okay with him if she liked to move into his West Side apartment and expect him when she saw him. He also advised her to continue with her fashion work as he was not rich enough to support the two of them. Love was such a wonderful thing to Maggie that she agreed. For the next six months she saw Bradey some ten times. He always seemed rushed. Maggie never asked questions. She was happy to see him when she saw him and she kept his apartment tidy, cooked for him when he returned home and continued to make good money with her free-lance modelling. Then suddenly he had telephoned her to say he was going to Switzerland and would she like to come with him? Nearly out of her mind with joy, Maggie screamed, “Try and stop me!”
He came around the following evening with her air ticket and the blue vanity box. This was the first present Bradey had ever given her and she smothered him with kisses. Bradey refrained from telling her the box wouldn’t remain in her possession for long.
The flight from New York to Geneva came up to Maggie’s expectations. They travelled first class, and Bradey, from long experience, quickly captured the attention of one of the air hostesses who kept them both supplied with champagne, canapés and later, dry vodka martinis.
Arriving at Geneva airport, Bradey left Maggie to go through the customs with her baggage and vanity box. He had with him a small overnight case and was quickly through the customs search. He then went over to the Hertz desk and organised a Mercedes car.
There was some delay before Maggie appeared.
“I don’t think I am going to like the Swiss,” she said. “The horrid man wouldn’t unlock my bags and made me take everything out.”
“The vanity box?”
“That too. Everyone was staring at my things. He was a horrid brute.”
“Never mind. The car’s waiting. Come on,” and signalling to a porter who piled the luggage on a trolley, Bradey conducted Maggie to where the Mercedes was parked. As he drove on to the autoroute and headed towards the city, he thought maybe Maggie’s sexual charms might not be so useful if he had ever to smuggle something through the Swiss customs.
On the other side of the Atlantic, in Paradise City, Claude Kendrick and Louis de Marney were discussing their future.
“With all this money, Claude my brave,” Louis was saying, “why not sell the Gallery and retire? Think of what you could do with almost three million dollars. Think of the life of freedom you will be able to enjoy. If the price is right, I would be willing to buy the Gallery from you with my share of the money. What do you think?”