1979 - You Must Be Kidding (24 page)

‘How are you feeling Tom?’ Jacoby asked as he came to the bed.

‘What’s going on?’ Lepski demanded. ‘Why am I in this setup?’

‘Sternwood insisted you should be given the VIP treatment. He’s picking up the tab. You are a hero, Tom,’ and Jacoby grinned. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’ll survive,’ Lepski said and released a moan. ‘That sonofabitch nearly had me.’

‘Take it easy. You killed him. The press are yelling to interview you. Pete Hamilton is walking all over the ceiling to get you on T.V.’

Lepski brightened.

‘How about the Chief?’

‘I fixed that. I told him you and I were checking on the golf ball jacket and we walked right into it. Brandon says he was trying to sell Gregg insurance when he recognized Gregg as the killer. There are no problems, Tom. Just recover. The boys plan to throw you a party as soon as you get out of here.’

Lepski grinned.

‘I’m going to tell the Chief he should upgrade you, Max. You are a goddam fine pal.’

Jacoby beamed.

‘It’s already fixed. I’ll be a second grade from tomorrow.’

‘And Brandon?’

‘He’s getting the reward.’

‘I guess he’s earned it. He had a hairy time.’

‘He wants to throw a party for you too.’ Jacoby began to move to the door. ‘Carroll’s waiting, Tom. I just wanted you to know you have no problems.’

Two minutes later, Carroll, starry eyed, carrying a bouquet of flowers and an elaborate basket of fruit, swept in.

‘Oh, Tom, darling!’

‘Hi, honey!’ Lepski said. ‘You look good enough to get into bed with me!’

‘Now, don’t be coarse,’ Carroll said. ‘They say you nearly died.’

‘So what? I didn’t! Am I glad to see you!’

‘Tom, you are making headlines! You’ll be on television! I’m so proud of you!’

‘Fine!’ Lepski preened himself. ‘I’ll be out at the end of the week, then you and I will celebrate. We’ll go to the Spanish Bay grillroom and we’ll have a ball.’

Carroll sat by the bed and took his hand.

‘We can’t afford the Spanish Bay, darling. That costs the earth.’

‘Who cares? What’s money for? We’ll celebrate at the Spanish Bay . . . that’s a promise!’

‘Tom! I want to ask you something. It has been worrying me. Did Mehitabel Bessinger’s clues help you?’

Lepski hesitated, then decided that a lie would save him another bottle of Cutty Sark.

‘That old rum-dum? Forget it, honey. Her clues were as useful as a hole in the head.’

‘Oh, Tom! I really thought. . .’

‘Never mind about her,’ Lepski said. ‘Go and lock the door. I want to prove to you I’m not as badly hurt as I am supposed to be.’

After hesitating, Carroll crossed the room and locked the door.

The End