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rush to go anywhere, as long as they see fit to keep some brandy in my glass.
Jed excused himself and led us out of the room, around the corner to the
elevator, and up to the library, without any one of us uttering a word.
The library was a strikingly elegant room. Dark-paneled and comfortably
furnished, it featured second-story galleries reached by spiral wooden ladders
and housed an eclectic selection of books, both commercial and rare. I used to
love the evenings I had to wait for Jed to finish a negotiation downstairs,
while I sat and browsed through some first-edition poetry volume from the
thirties, interrupted only by staring at a section of the vaulted ceiling,
painted with maps and mythological figures that showed me a new aspect every
time I settled in a different chair.
This time, there was no looking at the ceiling. I walked to one of the long,
narrow reading tables and sat down, pointing to the men to join me.
 Do I have to interrogate you, Jed, or do you think you can be honest with me
for a change?
 I must say I m rather surprised at this Gestapo-like approach, Alex. I assume
you and I can talk out our problems without any interlopers present. Jed
refused even to glance at Mike Chapman, who was sitting on my side of the
table, across from him. His dark eyebrows were drawn together and wrinkled
over his nose, as he seemed to try to puzzle why my mood had snapped so
radically in the brief time since I had kissed him good night at the Plaza.
 I thought so, too, but apparently I was wrong. I didn t even know we had
problems. Why don t you tell me what was going on between you and Isabella?
 What s gotten into you, Alex? I don t understand what s happened to you in
the last hour, darling. This time ley he nodded in Chapman s direction,
suggesting we could on talk more intimately if we were alone.
 Why don t you and I?  This has gone beyond  you and I. Just start explaining
Her everything to Detective Chapman.
 Take it easy. I can t figure out what has you in such a rage.
 It s one thing to take advantage of me, Jed, but don t play me for stupid on
top of that. Tell us about your relationship with Isabella Lascar.
 Ah, this is about jealousy, is it? You re the one who introduced me to her
and encouraged me to help her.
What suddenly makes you think anything else was going on? It s not like you to
be so insecure.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
 Try me. When did you decide to go with Isabella to my house on the Vineyard?
How could I lie in bed beside you Saturday night and believe the things you
whispered to me as well as the responses you evoked from me, is what I really
wanted to say out loud.
 Now hold on right there, Alex. That s insane. I never went to your house- My
hand slammed down hard on the solid table, piercing the silence of the
cavernous room. I was almost as mad at I myself as I was with Jed. I prided
myself on my ability = -d to cross-examine witnesses, and I wasn t even doing
an amateur job at it. There was no subtlety to my technique, no clever buildup
of incontrovertible facts.
I just wanted to crash my way through to the only thing that mattered.
Why had he double-crossed me with Isabella Lascar? Our relationship wasn t so
entrenched that he couldn t have ended it and moved on to be with her or
anyone else he chose. Why did he have to humiliate me so openly?
 Don t play with me anymore. This is not about jealousy or my feelings or
anything as trivial as that. This is about -  Mike was ready to try a more
competent approach.
 What do you drink, Mr. Segal?
 Oh, are we ready to be civilized now? Shall I order us up something from the
bar? Jed actually turned to look for a house phone before Mike made him
realize the question was not a social one.
 We re not interested in drinking with you now. I asked you what you drink.
I knew the answer to the question. I d heard Jed order it dozens of times,
usually having to explain to the bartender except in his regular joints
exactly what it was.
 Booker s, Mr. Chapman. I like Booker s. I mouthed the next phrase along with
him, knowing he would feel the need to describe it to Mike.
 It s a single malt Bourbon, from Kentucky. Quite pricey. I ve always had a
preference for Kentucky Bourbons over Tennessee. I m sure there s a reason you
need to know this.
 And when the barkeep runs dry on Booker s, what s your second choice? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]