The Stand-In (24 page)

Fortman had come to report that he had just seen Carr, accompanied by a young woman, enter the hotel.

Boy said, “Good man!”

He finished his sherry and paid for it and then with Fortman's help got out of the deep chair and went down in the lift to sit in the car. Fortman's instructions were to watch for Carr, but Boy watched, as well, leaning forward and resting his chin on the gold head of his stick. This was not the most comfortable position but he simply couldn't lean back properly, feeling—by the pricking in his thumbs—that something was about to happen. He said into the speaking tube, “Fortman, I do believe we've flushed our bird!” The shooting allusion came from Papa, of course. How he used to abhor hanging about on the moors! How he used to mock Papa as Master of the Hunt, but this was his hunt, he was Master now, this time he would bring home the trophy.

30

When Desmond said he was coming to the St. Georges Hotel with her, Millie couldn't stop him. As he pointed out, she was telling the world he'd been with her Tuesday night and had been staying at his place ever since, so it would look funny if he
didn't
go with her. Besides, who had that bastard Boy been putting the finger on? Him. It would look damn funny if he didn't turn up.

When she said, well, yes, but he was still too weak, he said no, he wasn't. She couldn't tell him she didn't want him seeing Coral. She couldn't say she knew he wanted to see Coral.

The skinny doorman at the St. Georges recognized her, and the elevator man, too. (They remembered Kitten, that was why.) They were taken straight up to Coral's suite. Before ringing, Desmond waited in front of Coral's door and ran his hand over his hair.

They could hear a man's voice inside, but when Desmond rang the bell the man stopped talking, and it was Coral who answered. Millie couldn't help seeing Coral the way all men did, so okay, that was an old story.

“Hi, Coral.”

“What do
you
want?”

For a minute she threw Millie, acting as if she was less than nothing. Millie's voice stuck in her throat and she just stood there, but Desmond took over.

“Do you remember me, Miss Reid?”

Because he was making his voice even deeper than usual, Millie knew he was referring to their meeting in the hospital. Millie reminded herself why they were there and broke in, “Can I speak to Mr. Ossian, Coral?” Coral shook her head. “It's very important.”

“Nube's not here now. He was, but he's gone.”

“We heard voices, Coral. We heard through the door.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Millie?” Coral shoved the door wide open, and Millie and Desmond could see that the living room was empty. Coral went inside and across the living room. When your slacks were made to order like Coral's, they fitted like skin in the back. Millie noticed that Desmond wasn't missing that.

Coral pointed to the bedroom. “He's not in there, either.”

She didn't ask them to come in, but she hadn't exactly slammed the door in their faces, so Millie and Desmond followed her inside. With his eyes on Coral, Desmond closed the door to the corridor. Now Coral was pointing to a tape recorder on the coffee table.

“You heard voices on that. Satisfied, Millie? Nube's not here. I'm all alone.”

First she said it, then realized it was true: She was all alone. She had nobody. The face, the sweater, the slacks registered that: All alone. Desmond gave Millie a prodding look, so she said, “What's the trouble, Coral?”

“What trouble? I'm having a ball, you know that!”

“Something else's happened. What is it, Coral?”

“What do you care? You already showed me how much you care.”

Then the tears started rolling out. Coral was trained to look good while she cried, but whatever was bugging her now was so bad she didn't care. Millie could tell.

Desmond said, “Is it Bran? Have you heard from Bran?”

The tears stopped. “What the hell do you know about Bran? Millie, I could
kill
you! What right do you have to—I could kill you!”

“I know all about Bran, Miss Reid.”

Before he could get another word out, Millie butted in. “Sure. I told him.
Naturally
I told him.”

“Oh, that's great! That's just great!” Coral said. She flung herself on the sofa, but somehow gracefully. “That's all I need!”

“Miss Reid, I know Bran from way back. I knew him when he was
seven
. Look, it's okay. I
know
Bran didn't kill anybody.”

Millie thought she would pass out then and there. “He means he knows Bran couldn't do a thing like that!” He was going to confess here and now so Coral could stop crying, so Coral wouldn't have a worry in the world. “He means anyone who knows Bran—I mean, no matter how bad it looks now, it will be okay.”

“It will be okay, will it? Oh, my God, my God!” Coral jumped up, stared at them, shrugged, and then knelt beside the coffee table and began to fiddle with the tape recorder. “You might as well hear this. This is a tape of a telephone conversation between Bran and Nube. When Bran called, Nube turned the thing on. Nube said a woman spoke first; that must have been Bran's mother. When we came to London, she went to Paris, so when this happened Bran ran to mama's skirts. Nube brought me the tape. You might just as well hear this since you both know it all, anyhow. It makes no difference now.” She pointed to chairs. “Sit down!” She flung her head back and laughed. “Make yourselves comfortable!”

“Miss Reid—”

He was going to tell her! Millie grabbed Desmond's arm and pinched through the sweater, hard. “Please, Desmond, do what Coral says! Please listen. Please sit.” With her eyes she tried to tell him again everything God had done to save him, but she wasn't getting through to him, not with Coral there. You could do anything for a guy and, if you were Millie Williams, it didn't mean a thing. But at least he shut up and sat and—he was supposed to be her boyfriend, wasn't he—she sat herself down on the arm of his chair. If he said one word confessing, she'd stick her hand over his mouth. She would.

Coral was fussing with the recorder, rewinding it because she had been listening until they rang the doorbell. Then it began.

“Yes, I know who you are.
Where
are you?”

“That's Nube,” Coral said, stopping the tape. “Bran didn't give his name, just asked if Nube knew who it was.” She started the tape again.

“Yes, I know who you are.
Where
are you?”

“Never mind where I am. I know where you are, that's what counts. It's what I know that counts, and there's very little I don't know. The trouble with you, Nube, is you think everybody is dumb but you.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“That's not important. For once, you listen to me. First—I saw you at Stoke Newington. When I heard your car, I hid and watched. You got that? I hid. I saw the whole act you put on. What an actor!”

“You saw me. So? I was there to look the house over for the next day's shooting and found him.”

Bran's voice said, “Sure, sure.”

“What are you so sore about? Surely you must realize that I've been covering for you?”

“You've been covering for
me?
I told you I'm not dumb. I
know
!”

“The cops don't know a thing about it, Bran. I could be letting myself in for big trouble, you realize that? But I never said one word about you!”

“That's what I'm waiting for, Nube, one word out of you. One word out of you and you're going to get it! Through the heart—or maybe the head, because you don't have a heart, do you, Nube? To kill one guy to pin a murder rap on another innocent guy!”

“Bran—Bran, tell me what happened.”

“Now that's neat! Tell you! I've already told you
I know what happened.”

“Tell me, Bran.”

“You want to play games? Look, you know all about Cornie's real father. I know Coral always tells you everything, so you had that ace in the hole when you needed it. Then you killed this guy, or you had him killed. Then it was fixed so I'd go to the goddamn house and be caught red-handed with the body. You knew I'd fall for the blackmail. I couldn't have a story like that coming out now! Christ, I could see the newspapers—and I could see Rorty letting me do
Wind
after that! You knew I'd have to get up the money and go there.

“Then you arrive on the scene—with a witness outside—I spotted your chauffeur—just in time to catch me red-handed. Well, you were just five minutes and my brains too late. When I saw you come in and knew what you were planning … Did you think I'd come running to you for help?

“Enough playback. What I'm telling you now, Nube, is you're either going to confess to the cops, the whole lousy deal, or I'm going to get you. I give you one more day. I've had enough hiding out with you doing God knows what, and don't think you have me sitting around biting my nails, either. I've been going over how I want to do
Wind
, and I've come up with some great ideas.”

“I hope they're better than the idea I did this. Come on, you know I had nothing to do with the murder. You know I just walked in on it. Coral knows that's what happened. Why don't you ask Coral? She'll tell you.”

“Coral can't tell me a thing. Coral's brainwashed. In my opinion you can only work with brainwashed actors, which is why you don't like directing me, of course.”

“Bran—if you were innocent, why run away? This looks bad, Bran, this looks very bad!”

“I agree. But it was natural. I was scared, but I'm not scared now. I'll wait one more day for you, Nube, and that's it.”

The tape finished. Bran had hung up.

“Now you know where Nube is,” Coral said. “He went to get a battery of shrinks. I couldn't stop him.

“I asked Nube how he could be scared of Bran. I said, “You know Bran's chicken from way back.' Nube said no, Bran
was
chicken when he had all his marbles, but now he's lost them, who knows?” She lighted a cigarette. “The doctors will be coming here with commitment papers for me to sign. Then we hire private eyes to find Bran and have him put away. Nube says we'll put him in a fine private nuthouse, the best. Then if it all comes out, there may not even be a trial.”

“I need a car,” Desmond said suddenly. “Can I have your car, Miss Reid? I know where Bran is.”

“Second sight!” Millie yelled, jumping up, too. “He's got second sight!”

“How would you know where Bran is?”

“From something he said the other day. It's a long story, and you don't want me wasting time when I could be getting Bran. I'm going to bring him back, but don't sign any commitment papers. He isn't nuts.”

Millie yelled, “Who are you?
Freud
?”

“If Bran comes in and just keeps his mouth shut about Ronnie, everything will be fine.”

“I
told Desmond about Ronnie,” Millie said, “
I
told him.” They weren't listening to her. They were talking across her.

“Take it easy. I'll go get him.”

“Mr. Fix-it! Listen to Mr. Fix-it!”

“You really think you can?” Coral studied Desmond, then nodded. “I'll get you the car keys. No, they're in the garage. I'll phone down and say you can take the Ferrari.” She lifted the receiver. “I forgot your name.”

“Desmond Carr.”

Millie thought Desmond was telling himself that Coral would never forget his name again. Millie could have strangled him. Coral, calling the garage, was looking him up and down.

“You really think you can stop Bran threatening Nube? You really think you can?”

Did she care
how
or
why
he could? Now Coral went over and looked up at him then (it seemed to Millie, looked at herself, poor Coral, all alone), then threw herself at him, and his arms went around her. Coral turned to Millie with a “you wouldn't want him to miss this” look, pulled her arms free to put them around his neck, and kissed him. It was Desmond who broke loose.

Coral said, “You make Bran stop it! You come on strong!”

Does
she
come on strong! One kiss, Millie thought. She gives him one lousy kiss! “Let's go, Desmond.”

“You stay here.”

He walked to the door and there was no weakness left at all. Millie had to run to catch up to him. Over his shoulder he told her again to stay with Coral, but she wouldn't because she was positive he would find Bran. She began arguing, first very softly in case Coral was listening through the door. “Desmond, please, why are you doing this? She said herself the worst Bran would get is a nice rest in a private hospital. You heard Coral, the
Ritz!
Is that so terrible? He took the money that was for Kitten. Kitten could have been killed. I could have been killed. A private hospital is too good for him!

“You've got to
see!
It isn't too late. Just say you couldn't find him.” Desmond was hurrying down the hall to the elevator. “Desmond, it isn't me that says so.
Someone who knows
—in His mysterious ways—Desmond, Bran was okay, wasn't he? Nobody was after him. Coral and Mr. Ossian would have covered for him, and after a while the cops would have filed the case away. They had nothing on Bran, but no,
he
has to call and make threats.”

Desmond stopped. He said, “How would you like to be locked in a nuthouse?”

“Maybe he belongs there. He sounded nuts.”

“Of course he sounded nuts, and you can bet the psychiatrists will mark him nuts. But Millie, Bran
didn't
kill Ronnie! He knows someone did, and he saw Ossian there, didn't he? He figured—you heard him—Ossian wants him out of the way, and who knows, Millie, maybe he does.”

“You think everyone wants Coral! I saw that kiss. You'd give up your whole life for one kiss!”