An Evil Guest (16 page)

“I understand.” She made it sympathetic.

“My driver takes my instructions a bit too seriously at times, I’m afraid. Would you be willing to meet me at Rusterman’s? Carlos will drive you.”

“I’d love to. Meet you when?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. It shouldn’t be long.”

“Wonderful. I’ll go right away.”

After hanging up, she switched on the alarm system.

Carlos held the door of the white limousine for her. He looked taller and darker than the uniformed man she remembered seeing when she had
looked down at the white limousine. A sheet of glass—thick glass that looked as if it might stop bullets—separated them. There was a speaker below it through which he could presumably have spoken to her, and a microphone through which she could presumably have spoken to him.

She was tempted to say, “I wasn’t going to shoot you anyway, Carlos,” but did not.

Rusterman’s seemed calmer and richer than it had on the night of the cast party. Its unsmiling hostess might have posed for
Vogue
. “I’m to meet Wallace Rosenquist here,” Cassie told her. “I assume the reservation is in his name.”

“Of course. Of course!” Had some passing spirit kindled a candle within the hostess, she could have glowed no brighter; her smile looked a little forced, Cassie thought, but it was big and bright beyond all questioning.

An imperious gesture summoned the head waiter, who bowed deeply and escorted Cassie to a private room of medium size that, tonight at least, held only a single table and two chairs. “Would Madame care for wine? We have excellent wines. I shall summon our sommelier.”

“Just water, please. Water and a little ice.”

Her cell phone played “Pigs in Paradise” as the head waiter left; feeling the music far too appropriate, Cassie answered.

“Your alarm’s gone off, Miz Casey.” It was Preston. “I’ve called the cops. They say they’re on their way, only no sirens. I thought you might like to come on back.”

“It was good of you to call,” Cassie said, “but I can’t. Would you ask one of the policemen to call me at this number when they’ve investigated?”

“Sure will, Miz Casey. Okay if I open the door for ’em?”

“Yes. Of course. Preston . . .”

“What, Miz Casey?”

“There’s a very nice man who works in our building. He fixed my wall.”

“That’s Ian, Miz Casey.”

“Is he there now?”

“No, he’s not, Miz Casey. Ian works days.”

“Please leave a message on his computer for me. Give him my number and ask him to call me in the morning. Will you do that for me, Preston?”

“Sure will, Miz Casey, only I got to go. The cops are here.”

She hung up.

After a time that might have been five minutes or fifteen, a beautifully uniformed waitress brought a tall blue bottle of Swiss spring water that had
probably cost more than most wines. With it came a crystal goblet almost as tall as the bottle, a small silver bucket, and a pair of tongs.

Cassie halted the waitress with a gesture. “Do you know Alexis Cabana? Know who she is?”

The waitress smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t, ma’am.”

“She an actress. I asked because you remind me of her, although you’re better-looking.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” The smile widened. “I’m not half as beautiful as you are, I know. People do say, though, that I’m—well, some people do, that I’m not bad at all.” The waitress bent closer. “Are you really meeting Mr. Rosenquist?”

“Supposedly.” Cassie glanced at her watch. “I’ll give him another ten minutes.”

The waitress’s voice fell to a whisper. “Everybody’s got to treat him like he was the governor. He’s a friend of Mr. Rusterman’s.”

“Is there really a Mr. Rusterman?”

“He’s the company president. There was another Mr. Rusterman years and years ago, and he opened the first one. But now this Mr. Rusterman is the president of our whole chain. He’s a cousin or something. I don’t know.”

“I see. Wait a moment, please. Do you happen to know Mr. Rusterman’s first name?”

“It’s Wade, I think, ma’am.”

Reis came well after the ten minutes were up. “I’m sorry I’m late, Cassie. I was unexpectedly delayed.”

He pulled out a chair and sat. “Do you mind if I call you Cassie? India says that’s what everybody calls you. And now that you’ve signed, well, I hope you’re not angry with me.”

Cassie smiled. “Not at all, Bill. Did you find anything?”

His expression changed, and he said nothing.

It was in the eyes, Cassie decided. His eyes had been lying before, and lying skillfully; now they had stopped.

The waitress returned, this time with menus. Cassie studied hers for a few seconds and laid it down.

“Yes, ma’am? What would you like?”

“The half capon Souvaroff, I think, with a tossed salad.”

“We have just about every dressing there is, ma’am. Would you like me to list them for you?”

Cassie shook her head. “Ranch will be fine.”

Reis looked up. “I felt sure you’d order the green goddess.”

“I like ranch.”

“You’d like this better. Waitress, I want you to bring both dressings. A cup of each, not on the salad.”

The waitress said, “Yes, sir,” and wrote. “Would you care for some soup, ma’am? It comes with your dinner.”

Cassie shook her head, and Reis ordered.

When the waitress had gone, he said, “You’ve saved me a great deal of time. Weeks, perhaps.”

“I’m glad. Want to tell me what’s in green goddess dressing? I’m curious.”

He smiled. “A great many things, and I couldn’t name half of them.”

“What makes it green?”

“Money. If I may go back to an easier question, yes. I found several things of interest in your apartment.”

“Before the police got there. I thought you looked like a fast worker.”

“Sometimes. One was a note. The first word was
infected
. Do you know the note I mean?”

Cassie shook her head. “I had a lot of company this afternoon. One of them must have left it.”

“No doubt. I don’t think I’ve told you why I want you to try the green goddess. It’s because I think of you like that. A green goddess. You were wearing green the first time I saw you.”

“In the play? I wasn’t. That was brown.”

“So it was. I was thinking of the party. I took you home, remember?”

Cassie nodded. “Thank you. You saw
The Red Spot
, though. The final performance.”

“I didn’t. I know I said I did, but that was . . .”

“Diplomacy?”

“Yes, exactly. India had given me tickets, and I didn’t want to admit I hadn’t used them.”

“I see. What else did you find?”

“One other thing that interested me even more. You have a brand-new checking account. Only one check’s been written on it.”

She smiled. “So I do! I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“It’s a great deal of money.”

“For you? I know better.”

The sommelier arrived, and Reis ordered wine. When they were alone again, he said, “Would you tell me where you got it, if I asked?”

“Are you saying you don’t know? I don’t believe you, Wade.”

“Call me Wally, please. I prefer it. Here.”

“As you wish, Wally.”

“Thank you.” He actually looked grateful. “No, I’m not saying I don’t know. I simply wanted to see if you’d tell me the truth.”

Cassie grinned. “I won the lottery. That’s the total, absolute, brass-bound truth. Good enough?”

“You’re saying you lie.”

“So do you, Wally. You’ve lied to me already tonight. Once for sure and probably more than once. Let’s turn off the lights on this one. You’ll lie to me anytime you think it’s to your advantage. Whether I’ll lie to you depends on the question you ask, how you ask it, and how I’m feeling just then.”

“You’re frank, Cassie. I admire frankness.”

“In that case, I’ll stop.”

“So will I. I’m going to tell you things tonight. You’ll doubt everything I say, but you’ll have no reason to. I’m going to tell you a lot, and it will all be true. Every word of it.”

Their wine arrived. Reis tasted it and nodded. The sommelier poured each of them half a glass.

“I’ve said I was going to tell you the unvarnished truth. I will, and I’ll begin by saying that you are the most attractive woman I’ve ever met. I want to win you. Most of all, I want to win your love. I may not be able to do that, but I’ll deserve it. You’ll see.”

Cassie nodded and sipped. “Pure truth so far.”

“I’m a businessman. I’ve been one all my adult life, even when I was supposed to be a diplomat. It’s the only thing I know how to do, but I’m good at it. I’m so good that I often need to pretend to be somebody else. There are antitrust laws, for one thing. There are other reasons as well. Almost every day I deal with sums greater than the annual budgets of many nations, so you can imagine.”

“I can
only
imagine,” Cassie said, “but I can do that.”

“Good. Two years ago I hired a consultant. He is an academic, and like so many something of a charlatan, but he gets results. His name is Gideon Chase. It will save time if you don’t pretend you don’t know him.”

“I won’t,” Cassie promised. “It would upset Sharon.”

“Yes, I’m sure it would. He did what I wanted, and I paid him liberally.
He realized I commanded very large sums and decided to despoil me. He’s been trying to ever since.”

As their food arrived Cassie said, “I wish him luck.”

“I know you do. Twenty thousand dollars is a large sum, as I said. You’ve gotten that much from him, and hope to get much more.”

“This smells luscious. Thank you.”

“I won’t bother telling you that you might get fifty times as much from me. You understand that already. The things you don’t know are what you might have to do to get it, and whether I can be trusted to keep my promises.”

Cassie’s eyebrows went up. “Can you?”

“Yes. You won’t take my word for that—although it’s good—but as you come to know me better you’ll realize that in business matters I can be trusted absolutely. I do not cheat. Most particularly, I do not cheat my partners.”

“Good for you!” She sampled her capon.

Reis’s smile was principally in his sharp brown eyes. “Exactly. It is good for me, Cassie. It’s good business. The criminal impulse—something your friend Chase has in abundance—is self-defeating in the long run. Would you like to try this ragout?”

“No thanks. I’m trying not to eat too much. I won’t sleep if I do.”

“I always sleep well. My days are long and strenuous. A good night’s sleep is my reward, and I collect it every night.”

“May I ask a question?”

“I invite it.”

“Why did you take my bracelet from Margaret?”

“Because I was afraid of Margaret. Of her honesty. Can I explain?”

Cassie nodded. “I wish you would.”

“You hated my bracelet and did not want to wear it. I saw it the moment it was on your wrist. It hurt. It hurt a great deal. I had designed that bracelet myself. It was special order, and I had paid a German craftsman extra to get it as soon as I did. He had worked nonstop, and sent it to me here by International Express. I deal in gold, as well as certain other commodities. That was why there were no diamonds.”

Cassie nodded again.

“I had hoped that you would love it, that you would think fondly of me each time you wore it. I’d failed. I don’t fail often, but I don’t lie to myself—or to those I value—when I do. If I’d thought your Margaret would steal it, I’d
have written it off and tried to forget it. After looking into her background, I decided she wouldn’t. She would return it to you, and you’d wear it as a duty, detesting it the whole time. Objection?”

“No,” Cassie said.

“When the show closed, as it would eventually, you would sell my bracelet. That would be the end of it.” Rosenquist’s well-tailored shoulders rose one-eighth of an inch, and fell. “I got it back and had it melted down.”

“It’s gone?”

“It is. Destroyed utterly. I suppose another like it might be made, but it will not be made to my order. Does that make you happy?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie felt thoughtful, and felt, too, that she must look foolish. “I’ll have to mull it over. You scared Margaret.”

“I had to. She wouldn’t have handed over my bracelet otherwise. I won’t try to make amends to her. It would only frighten her more, if I’ve read her right. I’ll make amends to you, however. Let’s do that now. I promised you’d learn something to your advantage if you’d join me for dinner.”

“I’d forgotten.”

“I hadn’t. Here it is. The price of gold is almost two hundred dollars an ounce today.”

“If that’s supposed to help me, it’s coming a bit late.”

“I have more.” Reis took a tall wallet from the pocket of his jacket. “I don’t suppose you ever weighed your bracelet?”

Cassie shook her head.

“It weighed ten ounces. I gave my German craftsman ten ounces of gold and told him to use it all, and that’s what he did.”

Reis pulled out a green check half again larger than those Cassie had received from Barclays Bank. “This isn’t twenty thousand, but it will have to do for tonight—two thousand dollars, the value of the gold in that bracelet.”

Nodding, Cassie picked it up. “If I were a lady, I wouldn’t take this. Fortunately I’m not.”

“I understand. Gentility is the luxury of those who can afford it. I can’t. Honor has to be enough for me, and it is. No doubt you’re the same.”

“I’m afraid not.” Unable to smile, Cassie sipped her wine. “The first time I got divorced, Herbie and I split up the stuff in our apartment. No fault, you know? Fifty-fifty. He got the honor. Probably I got something, too, but I forget what it was.”

Reis smiled. “In that case you’re for sale. I’m delighted to hear it.”

“Maybe and maybe not.” She picked at her capon. “It depends.”

“On the price.”

“On the price, the conditions of sale, and . . . Oh, lots of other stuff. Herbie and I—Herbie was my first husband. Do you know about him?”

“No, but I will.”

“You certainly will.” Cassie grinned. “One more glass of this and I’ll tell you everything, most of it true. Well, anyway, Herbie decided we needed a border terrier. He found a breeder and was all enthusiastic about it. It was going to cost a lot, but we’d get a good one. I wasn’t as crazy about it as Herbie was—we were on the road a lot back then—but I went along.”