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Authors: Harold Robbins

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BOOK: Never Leave Me
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A faint smile crossed her lips. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I turned and went back around my desk. I lit a cagarette. “You’re really leaving him?” I asked. She was still watching me. She nodded. “Believe me?”

I had no answer.

She returned to her chair. “You said you would get me a job.” I hesitated.

“Were you lying?” she asked quickly.

I shook my head. “I was a lot more cocky then. I didn’t know what Matt Brady could do.” “Then you won’t help me?”

“I didn’t say that,” I protested. “I just don’t know whether I have enough friends left who will listen.”

“But you’ll try?” Her eyes were still on my face. “I’ll try like crazy,” I said.

She got to her feet. ‟That’s all I ask,” she said. She looked at her watch. “There’s a plane back in an hour. “I’ll just make it.”

I came around the desk. “You’ll call me Monday?” “I’ll call you.” She held out her hand to me.

I took it and looked down at it. “Sandy,” I said. “I’m sorry if I’m not all the man you think I am. I

didn’t mean to make promises I couldn’t keep.”

She forced a smile to her lips. “You’re enough man for me.”

I looked into her eyes. There was no deceit there. “Thanks, Sandy.” Her lower lip trembled and I pulled her towards me. I kissed her.

“Brad!” Her head drew back. She held my face close to her while her eyes searched mine silently. “Sandy, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Her lips parted as if she were about to speak. There was a sound behind us, then another voice. “Brad, you’ve been working too hard, so I came down to get you!” The door finished its opening

swing and Elaine stood there.

For a moment we were too startled to move, then Sandy’s arms dropped from around my neck.

The smile froze on Elaine’s face, then slowly disappeared as hurt crept up into her eyes. She stood very still and small in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob as if to hold herself erect. Her gaze went from me to Sandy and back. At last she spoke.

“Hello, Sandra.” I could hear her fighting to control her voice. “Mrs. Schuyler,” Sandy said huskily.

There was a veil over Elaine’s eyes now that locked me out. “Maybe I was wrong, Brad,” she said, the hurt finally seeping through to her voice. “But I didn’t believe you when you said you were going to play all the angles. Now I know better!”

The door slammed and she was gone. Sandy and I stared at one another. It was as if a spell had broken. I ran to the door and opened it. The office was empty.

“Elaine!” I called and ran out into the corridor. I heard the click of the elevator doors. “Elaine!” I called again and ran towards them.

It was too late. The corridor was empty. I stared helplessly at the closed doors, then turned and slowly walked back into the office.

Sandra was standing there watching me. I walked past her and sank miserably into my chair. “You love her very much, Brad,” she said.

I nodded.

She walked to the door and opened it. “Good night, Brad,” she said.

“Good night,” I answered. The door closed and I didn’t look up. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. I could feel the pain that showed in Elaine’s eyes. Everything inside me hurt with her. Nothing was right. Nothing would ever be right again. Except Matt Brady.

He had won. I had no stomach left for the fight. I looked around the office. It had been great while it lasted, but the party was over. There was nothing left to do but to pay the piper. To-morrow I would close up the place and next week I would go out and look for a job.

I crossed the office, looking for a bottle. Might as well do things in style. The liquor was better off inside me than inside my creditors. I was just pouring myself a drink when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Still there, Brad?” Levi’s voice called.

“Come in, Bob,” I answered. I smiled bitterly to myself. Might as well face him now. It wouldn’t be any easier to tell him in the morning. He just had the shortest job on record.

There was a look of excitement on his face. He leaned over my desk. “What have you got to do with Matt Brady’s daughter?” he asked.

I stared up at him in bewilderment, the drink still in my hand. He was even more mixed up than I.

“Mrs. Schuyler is Brady’s neice,” I said.

“I’m not talking about Mrs. Schuyler,” he said impatiently. “Then who are you talking about?” I asked.

My drink slopped all over the desk when I heard his answer. Some of it even ran down on my trousers but I didn’t give a damn. I just came back from the graveyard.

“Sandra Wallace,” he answered.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I SHOULD have figured something like that before, but my head wasn’t on straight. I was like the bookie who had gone legit after many years. It was a new kick and he never figured there was larceny in the business world. So he ran so straight that before he knew it he lost his stake and had to go back across the tracks. That was me.

I had been too impressed with the surface. These babies were no different from anybody else. They only buried their dirt deeper and you had to scratch harder to dig it up.

“Got the proof?” I asked, wiping the liquor off my trousers.

He shook his head. “I never really went after it. It was only an accident that I came across it, and it had nothing to do with the government’s case, so I left it alone.”

“It might have saved your job,” I said. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t used that dope before.

He looked at me steadily. “It wouldn’t have kept Hilde here.” He took out a cigarette. “Seeing her here in your office brought it all back. I thought maybe you found out too.”

“What about Sandy?” I asked. “Does she know?”

“No,” he answered. “Nobody knows except her parents. As I understand it, her father is dead. It leaves only her mother to prove our story and I doubt that she’ll talk,”

I lit the cigarette he still held in his hand. I was wide awake now. The wheels were churning inside my head. I poured two drinks and held one towards him. “Let’s have the story from the beginning,” I told him.

He took the drink and settled in the chair across from me. “I was checking Con Steel’s common stock list. From 1912, when Matt Brady transferred some shares to his new bride, until 1925, he never sold or transferred another share. Only added to his holdings as he exercised various warrants or options. But in Twenty-five he transferred five hundred shares to Joseph and Marta Wolenciwicz in trust for Alexandra Wolenciwicz. These shares were to be held in trust until his death; then they were to be turned over to Alexandra.”

He sipped at his drink. “At the time of transfer, those shares were worth around fifty thousand dollars. They’re worth twice that to-day, so naturally I was curious about it. It was the first time I had noticed Brady giving anything away. I did some checking.

“Sandra’s mother had been a maid in Brady’s home in Pittsburgh. From all I was able to find out she was a great deal like her daughter.” He smiled. “Or more properly, it’s the other way around. She was built, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded. I knew what he meant.

“Matt Brady was about fifty years old then. He had married late and almost before he had settled into it his wife was injured in an auto accident and became a permanent invalid. A woman like Marta could put quite a strain on a man, even one whose wife wasn’t sick. You can imagine what happened.”

His drink was about half gone. I made to refill it but he shook his head. “She had been working for Brady about three years when she suddenly left. Brady’s wife was surprised by the short notice but gave Marta a nice gift anyway.

“About three months later Joe Wolenciwicz came up to Matt Brady’s office, still in his work clothes. What the two men spoke about in that office I don’t know. They were old friends, having worked together in the foundries many years before. I do know that Joe left that office with Matt

Brady’s personal check for five thousand dollars.

“He went from the office to his rooming house, where he changed into his only good suit. Then he went down-town to City Hall and met Marta. They were married that afternoon.

“Forty days later, Sandra was born. The very next day, Matt Brady transferred the stock.”

I sat quietly, staring into my glass. One thing about Brady. He wasn’t a piker about things. He was willing to pay for his ducal privileges. But it was more than that, really. In his own peculiar way he loved Sandra. She was his only issue. Now I understood why he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

Outside of business, it was perhaps the only reminder that he had been a man.

I poured out another shot and sipped it. The strange kicks that life would take. The same possessiveness that made Brady want to keep his daughter close made her hate him. I wondered if he knew how she felt—and if he did, if it would make any difference to him.

“Circumstantial evidence, as you lawyers would say,” I said. “You get some mighty good cases that way,” he smiled.

My mind was made up. There was no other way. I had to try for the knockout punch. “How long would it take you to get copies of all the pertinent data?” I asked.

“A few hours,” he answered. “I have some of them. Those pertaining to the stock transfer. The other stuff I’d have to get in Pittsburgh.”

I walked across the room and put the bottle back in the liquor cabinet “Get it,” I said. “I’ll meet you in Matt Brady’s office to-morrow afternoon at one o’clock.”

A strange look came into his face. He started to speak, but hesitated. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Afraid?”

He shook his head. “Not for me. I’ve already had it. But you?”

I stood silently for a minute. I knew what he meant. But there was no other way. Finally I smiled. “What’s the rap in Pennsylvania for blackmail?”

His face was straight as he answered. “I don’t know, off-hand.”

“Check that too while you’re down there,” I said. “Might as well know what’ll happen if I lose.”

The desk clerk at the Towers smiled at me. “Good evening, Mr. Rowan.”

I looked at the clock on the wall behind him. It was after nine. “Would you check Mrs. Schuyler for me, please.”

“Certainly, Mr. Rowan.” He picked up the phone and spoke into it. After a few seconds he looked up. “She doesn’t answer, sir.” He looked in the rack behind him. There was a key there. He turned back to me. “She must have gone out before I came on.”

I nodded and held out my hand for the key. “She’ll probably be back any minute. I’ll wait for her.” “It’s most irregular, sir.” He hesitated until he saw the bill in my hand, then his voice changed

suddenly. “But I suppose it will be all right, seeing as how it’s you,” he wound up with a smile, exchanging the key for the fiver.

I thanked him and went up to her suite. I let myself in and turned the light on. I left my hat and coat on a chair near the door and made myself a Scotch and water. The room was warm and I opened the window slightly and sat down opposite it.

The noise of the city rose vaguely to my ears as I sipped the drink. I wondered if she knew about Sandra. Probably not, or she would have told me long before. Or would she? Matt Brady was still her

flesh and blood.

It was almost ten when I got up for my second drink and she hadn’t come in yet. I turned on the radio and sat down again. I was tired and my eyes were burning. I killed the light and sat there in the dark. The music was soft and soothing. I could feel my nerves begin to ease. I set the drink carefully on the table next to me and dozed.…

Somewhere in the distance I could hear
The Star-Spangled Banner.
I struggled to open my eyes. They were heavy with sleep. I hit the light and it flooded into the room. The music was coming from the radio. The station was signing off for the night. I looked at my watch. It was three o’clock.

I got to my feet and turned off the radio. I hadn’t realized I was so tired. I wondered where she was. On a hunch I walked into the bedroom and opened her closet.

I had been right. Her travelling bag was gone. I shut the closet and went back into the other room. I picked up my hat and coat and let myself out. There was a peculiar hurt inside me as I went down in the elevator. At least she owed me the chance to explain. I tossed the key on the desk and went outside to pick up a cab.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

MARGE came into the room while I was dressing. I was standing in front of the mirror, knotting my tie. I was making my fourth pass at getting it to fall right and swore softly under my breath.

“Let me do it,” she said quickly.

I turned and she tied it swiftly and patted it into place. “Only man in the world with ten thumbs.” She smiled.

I looked down at her wondering whether the war was over. It was the first nice word she had for me all week. “No reason for me to change now,” I smiled back. “I’m too old.”

She looked up into my face, a certain wistfulness in her eyes. “I’m not too sure about that,” she said slowly. “You’ve changed in some ways.”

I knew what she meant but I didn’t want to renew the argument. “I’m going down to Pittsburgh this morning to see Brady,” I said.

“Something breaking?” she asked hopefully.

“Uh-uh,” I said carefully. “Just the last chance. I gotta win to-day or fold.” She looked away. “It’s that bad?”

“Yeah. The business is shot and the bills are beginning to pile up.” “What are you going to say to him?”

I picked up my jacket from the bed and shrugged into it. “I’m goin’ to try a little blackmail, that’s all.”

A concern came into her voice. “Is it dangerous?”

“A little,” I answered. “But I have nothing more to lose now.”

She didn’t answer right away. Absently she smoothed the bedcover. “The business means that much to you?”

“We gotta eat,” I answered. “You can’t bring up kids on hot air.”

“We could get along with less if we have to,” she said. “It would be better than your getting into more trouble.”

I laughed. “I won’t get into any more trouble. I’ve had the whole package.” “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said doubtfully.

“I’ll be okay,” I reassured her.

We started for the door and went silently down the steps. While we were sitting at the table waiting for the coffee, Jeanie came in. She went over to Marge and kissed her cheek.

BOOK: Never Leave Me
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