Dreams Die First (24 page)

Authors: Harold Robbins

“The TV spots run ten seconds voice-over the same illustration, using the same copy you just read. The radio spots are exactly the same. They’re timed to go out the first week we hit the stands. Everything is cleared. All it takes now is my signature on the contract.”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“You’re in for two hundred grand now. What’s another fifty? It could make you a big man with the mustaches back East.”

“And if I’m wrong, it could get me a very nice cement overcoat.”

“Gray is a good color for you.”

He studied the ad again. “One million copies,” he murmured, half to himself. “What if we don’t sell the million? Will you give me the override on the first million sold whenever we reach it?”

“That’s fair enough.”

“Okay, I’ll go. When do you think we can be on the stands?”

“How long will it take you?” I asked the production manager.

“We can be ready in six weeks if the color tests work out.”

“You heard the man. Two months.”

But we were both wrong. It was more than four months before the magazine was ready for the press and we weren’t on the stands until April of the following year. We encountered all kinds of reproduction problems—the pink wasn’t pink enough and the pussies tended to resemble wrinkled prunes when photographed. Like everything else about a woman, they looked better with makeup and a coiffure. And that was why we developed a whole new line of beauty care for the cunt.

CHAPTER 34

We could hear Bobby screaming at the models. Lonergan stepped from the water onto the sand, then jumped back quickly. “My God! It’s burning hot.”

“Wait a minute. I’ll have them send down a towel so you can dry your feet and get back into your shoes.” I cupped my mouth with my hands and called up to the camera crew to send down a towel.

A moment later one of the models came running toward us, completely nude, with the towel flapping in her hands. “Is this what you wanted, Mr. Brendan?”

“That’s right.” I saw my uncle turn away from the girl and look out at the ocean. I smiled to myself. “What’s your name?”

“Samantha Jones.”

“Samantha, would you be kind enough to dry Mr. Lonergan’s feet and help him on with his shoes?”

My uncle spoke quickly. “That’s all right. I can do it.”

“Don’t be silly. Samantha doesn’t mind.”

She knelt at my uncle’s feet. He fixed his eyes steadfastly on the horizon as she picked up one foot and began to dry it. Lonergan almost lost his balance. “Maybe it will be easier if you put a hand on my shoulder,” Samantha said.

“No, I’ll be all right.” Then he almost lost his balance again.

She caught his arm to steady him and guided it to her shoulder. “There, isn’t that better?”

Lonergan didn’t answer but remained standing on one leg, his face turned toward the sea.

“You’re in good hands,” I said to him. “I’m going up there to see what’s happening.”

Bobby was still screaming at the model when I got there. “You stupid cunt! You’re supposed to be conscious of it, not self-conscious about it. Make it look as if you can’t wait to get pronged.”

The girl was near tears. “But, Bobby, it feels so funny. I never saw it before. Not like that. All trimmed and shaved so that everything sticks out.”

“It’s supposed to, you idiot,” Bobby shouted. “What did you think we were going to take pictures of? Your eyeballs?” He turned away in disgust. “Oh, shit.” He saw me. “We’ll never get through.”

“Take five,” I said. “And come with me.”

“Take five,” he called over his shoulder and followed me up the beach. “What is it?”

I looked at him. His face was flushed with the heat, and the perspiration was dripping down his forehead. “How long you been out there in that sun?”

“Two hours maybe.”

“How do you feel?”

“Hot. I’ve never been so hot in my life.”

“How do you think the girls feel?”

He stared at me silently for a moment. “But we need the sun.”

“If you keep them out in it much longer, you’ll all wind up in the hospital.”

“I’ll never finish the set.”

“You can always get them in the studio. When’s King Dong coming in?”

“This afternoon’s flight.”

“You can shoot that tomorrow. That’s something you can’t do in the studio. Have you made arrangements for the costumes?”

“He’s bringing them down with him.”

“You’re all set then.”

“Yes. We leave at seven tomorrow morning for the Retreat.”

“The Retreat?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“My father’s mission. It’s about seventeen miles from here on the edge of the jungle.”

“That’s a strange place for a mission. Who do they convert? The Indians?”

He laughed. “It’s not that kind of mission. It’s more like a school. This is where candidates for the second plane take instruction to qualify as teachers. It’s called the Retreat because it has absolutely no communication with the outside world, no radio, no telephone. Only the supply trucks that go back and forth.”

His expression changed. A troubled look crossed his face. “Was I terribly awful, Gareth?”

“You’ve just had too much sun.”

“I’m sorry. I just get so involved.”

“That’s all right. Just remember. People aren’t cameras, and models aren’t just pieces of equipment.”

He nodded and went back to the setup. His voice floated back to me. “Wrap it up. We’re finished for the day. Seven o’clock call tomorrow morning.”

Lonergan caught up with me as I walked on to the cottage. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

I played innocent. “Do what?”

“You know. Have that naked girl wipe my feet. It was very embarrassing. What if someone had taken a picture?”

“Damn! I knew I forgot something,” I said in mock chagrin.

“I don’t know why I bother with you.”

“I do.” I held the cottage door open for him. “Do you know of anyone else who would make it possible for you to fulfill a childhood dream and walk barefoot in the surf?”

Verita was waiting for me, a margarita in her hand. “You took the long way back from lunch.”

“Lonergan wanted to walk in the surf,” I said. “You’re finished early.”

“It was simple. Murtagh was right. Everything was laid out for me. No tricks. Everything open. The books verify their claim. Both as to cost and losses.”

“But you still look uncertain.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Everything in order like that. It’s not Mexican.” She took a sip of the cocktail. “After I finished the books, I took a stroll down to the airstrip and talked to some of the mechanics.”

The butler came in. I ordered a scotch on the rocks, Lonergan his usual dry martini. When the butler had gone, she went on. “Do you know that about thirty private planes use that airstrip every week?”

“No.”

“About half of them belong to landowners around here.”

“The other half?”

“Transient. Land, refuel and take off. They rarely stay on the ground more than an hour.”

“Any idea of where they come from?”

“The Baja Peninsula, the mechanics say. But that doesn’t make sense. La Paz is closer for them. This is two hundred miles farther away. Another thing, they’re all flying one way. North. None of them ever lands on their way down.”

“They keep records down at the airstrip?” I asked.

“No. They do it the Mexican way. They keep a cashbox and just throw whatever money they collect into it. Landing fees, fuel, things like that.”

“Is there a Mexican customs officer there?”

“No. Only a local policeman. And he was sleeping all the time I was there.”

I turned to Lonergan. “What do you think?”

“Dope, probably. But that doesn’t mean that the von Halsbachs are in on it. If they were, they wouldn’t be so eager to unload. There has to be more money in that than there is in running the hotel. More than enough to cover any losses.”

“How do we find out?”

He looked at Verita. “They had private investors. Do the books give us any information on them?”

“No. They put up part of the money themselves. The rest came from a syndicate.”

“Can we get any information on who is in the syndicate?” I asked.

Lonergan shrugged. “Swiss banks.”

I looked at Verita. “Do you think Julio might know?”

She finished her drink. “You can ask him when we get back to Los Angeles.”

But I didn’t have to wait that long. He was there for the reception that afternoon. And so was Eileen.

***

The cocktail party was almost over when they arrived. I had just finished thanking the governor for his interest and for taking time from his busy schedule to see me.

“No, Señor Brendan,” he protested in almost accent-free English. “It is we who are indebted to you for your interest. We feel we have one of the most beautiful vacation lands in the world here and with the efforts of you and people like you it can become a veritable paradise. I pledge you our cooperation.”

“Thank you, Excellency. At the moment my only concern is when the casino will be permitted to open. Without it, it would be impossible for my kind of operation to succeed.”

“All the local approvals have been obtained. Now we must wait for approval from the federal government.”

“How long do you think that will take?”

“We are bringing all the pressure we can to bring it about.”

I wouldn’t let him off the hook. “Without a definite date, Excellency, there is no way I can undertake an investment of this magnitude.”

“I will do all I can to give you a quick answer,” he said smoothly. “Now, unfortunately, I must go. I am due in La Paz for an important dinner.”

“Thank you again, Excellency.”

He bowed and held out his hand. “
Hasta la vista
, Señor Brendan.” It was a politician’s handshake and had a certain kind of phony warmth. He bowed again, then made his way through the room, saying goodbye to the others. He was followed by his two silent bodyguards, whose tight suits didn’t hide the bulges made by the guns under their arms.

I walked over to Lonergan. “No commitments,” I said in answer to his unspoken question. “But lots of promises.”

He didn’t answer. His eyes went to the door. I followed his gaze and saw Eileen and Julio, who were just entering.

The governor stopped in apparent surprise; then the two men embraced and shook hands. They spoke a few words to each other; then Julio continued on into the room as the governor turned down the corridor.

Julio seemed to know everyone there. I watched as he stopped to chat on his way through the room. And there was something else: the way they reacted to him. It was as if he were a king. They were deferential and wanted to be sure that he saw them. It was more of a fuss than they had made over the governor.

Eileen reached me. She leaned forward so that I could kiss her cheek. “Surprise!” she whispered.

I laughed.

She turned to Lonergan. “Hello, Uncle John.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “My dear.”

Her eyes zeroed in on Marissa, who was talking to Dieter and two other Mexicans. “Is that the cunt?” she whispered to me.

“Hey!” I said. “You know the rules. You don’t ask me, I don’t ask you.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I knew the look on her face. Every now and then a girl would come along. This was one of those times. She was hooked. I groaned. “Not again? Why does it always have to be one of my chicks?”

She smiled. “I told you before. We have the same tastes.”

I gestured toward Julio, who was stuck in the middle of the room. “When did you find out he was coming down?”

“Not until I got on the plane. I thought I would be able to play pilot with King Dong’s joystick all the way down here, but it didn’t work out that way. Julio was in the seat next to me.”

“What did he have to say?”

“Nothing much. Did you know that he came from here? That his whole family still lives here?”

“No.”

“That’s strange. I thought Verita might have mentioned it.”

“It never came up.”

She took me by the arm. “Your girlfriend is looking at us. Don’t you think it’s time we met?”

CHAPTER 35

I was sitting in a warm bathtub with bubbles up to my nose, smoking a joint and thinking lovely thoughts, when Eileen came into the bathroom. I looked up at her. “It can’t be time for dinner. We just finished the cocktail party.”

“You have company. Julio and the von Halsbachs,
père et fils
.”

“Shit. I’m too stoned to talk to them.” I slid further into the tub. “Tell them I’ll see them at dinner.”

She nodded and went out. A moment later she was back. “Julio says it’s very important.”

“Damn.” I got to my feet. “Find out if Uncle John can join us. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I stepped under a cold shower. It took five minutes before I felt my head clear. I dried myself. Then, wrapped in one of those European-style terry-cloth towel robes, I went out into the living room.

Uncle John was completely dressed and was sipping his martini when I entered. The others were drinking tequila. I went behind the bar and got myself a glass of ice water. Eileen had disappeared. I leaned on the bar. “Okay, Julio, what’s so important?”

“Verita told me she is already finished with her examination of the books and that she is satisfied that everything is straight.”

“That’s right.”

“What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“The proposition.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“You have all the information. What more do you need to know?”

I glanced at Lonergan. His face was impassive. “Nothing else really. But I must admit to a little curiosity. How do you fit into this?”

Julio’s voice was bland. “I’m the Swiss bank.”

I nodded.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“It figured. I just didn’t realize you had that kind of money.”