The Way You Look Tonight (24 page)

After more hawking and spluttering, he was able to continue.

‘OK, so . . . let’s see now . . . first off, Woods’s night-run down there to Key West. I’m thinking it was pretty much opportunistic and unplanned. You say there’s
no evidence he’d been there in recent months so I very much doubt he’d established some sort of redoubt or hideaway there, stocked with provisions, that sorta thing. Anyway, he
wasn’t expecting the cops to get anywhere near him so early on in his beautiful new career, was he? The arrogance of the psychopath, huh? One of the weaknesses they all have in common, thank
the Lord . . . anyway, he had to get out of Key Largo fast as soon as he realised you and this Arnold girl were breathing down his neck. I’d like to meet her, by the way, Lee.

‘Second, he’s not Superman. He needs to eat, drink, sleep, go to the bathroom. That means he
has
to be interacting with others. Getting their unwitting co-operation –
unwitting, because who’d help an on-the-run homicidal maniac like Woods? No one in their right mind. So it’s reasonable to infer they don’t know who he really is. That being the
case, we come to the all-important point three.’

‘Oh, Christ. I know exactly what you’re gonna say next, Ted.’

His old boss laughed. ‘Of course you do. We used to call it the Sherlock mantra, didn’t we? Go on, refresh my memory. How does it go?’

‘As if you need reminding. OK . . . “
Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
”’

‘Well spoken, Agent Foster. Conan Doyle would be flattered by your power of recall. So what’s our little nugget of truth here?’

Lee sighed. ‘Christ, it’s so goddamned obvious now I’m speaking with you . . .’ He sighed again. ‘He’s changed his appearance, hasn’t he? He’s in
serious disguise, right? He’s moving around right under everyone’s nose. Why the hell didn’t I—’

Bradley cut in quickly. ‘Don’t go beating yourself up. What else does Holmes says to Watson in that same story? “
Nothing clears up a case so much as stating it to another
person.
” Everyone needs a sounding board from time to time to help them focus. And as far as I remember, you’ve never dealt with a disguise case before, have you? They’re
much more unusual than people like to think and as M.O. they tend not to jump out of the frame at you. I’ve only seen one and it took me a helluva long time to figure out what was going
on.’

Lee had been profuse in his thanks but Bradley brushed them aside.

‘You’d have got there yourself in the end. You know what to do now. Good luck, Lee. I don’t think you’ll be needing to call me again on this.’

Ten minutes later two of his best officers were standing before him scribbling down a string of orders.

‘Get hold of a really good police artist. There’ll be one in Miami – chopper him down here today. Have sketches done and wire them to the papers. If we work fast we can get
them in tomorrow’s editions, and on TV news tonight too. I’ll call WCBA in a minute.’

‘Sir?’ one of the men interrupted. ‘Why don’t you go on the local TV station yourself with the drawings? Have more impact that way.’ He coughed to cover his mild
embarrassment. ‘I, er, heard one of the girls in the Marshal’s Office here say you’d look good on TV. I’m just sayin’, sir.’

Lee laughed. ‘I’ll think about it. Now, about these sketches. If I’m not around when the artist gets here, tell him to base them on Woods’s photograph, but to make
several versions. He’ll have dyed his hair, either lighter or darker. He may well have grown a moustache or beard – it won’t be much of one, he’s only been down here a few
days, but even a light growth would help change the shape and nature of his face. I’d bet a ten-spot he’s wearing glasses of some kind – maybe those fashionable coloured lenses to
hide his eye pigment.

‘We need to put some drawings out there based on all his options – blond, dark, hirsute, clean-shaven, bespectacled – every possible permutation. One of them will be him as he
is now and we’ll start getting calls. That means I’ll want everyone in later, and I mean
everyone
– we have to be ready to send out a series of snatch squads to check out
every possible sighting as soon as they’re reported to us. I’m not having the bastard doing another duck-dive. Not this time.’

The second man opposite him nodded and lit a cigarette. ‘We’ll get right on it. But pardon me, sir, no disrespect, why didn’t we do this earlier?’

Now that’s a damned good question, Lee thought to himself, and it deserves an answer. Because I’ve been eyeballing this case up close since the day I landed in Florida and I’m
damned tired. Because I was tired even before I got here, straight from nailing that last one in California. Because I didn’t have the guts to tell the Director I needed some furlough first;
just a few days would have been enough. Because Stella’s not here. Wise, clever, intuitive Stella. How many reasons do you want?

But all he said was: ‘Because I didn’t think of it until now. Which is what’s known as a fuck-up, sergeant. My fuck-up and no one else’s. Let’s just hope
we’re not too late.’

‘No one thought of it, sir. Don’t beat yourself up.’

That’s the second time someone’s said that to me this morning, Lee thought gloomily.

‘I already have,’ he replied succinctly. ‘Right, let’s get those sketches taken care of and assuming they’re ready this afternoon and I get a six o’clock slot
on local TV tonight, I want everyone in here by four at the latest for a full briefing. We should get some responses after the telecast but if not, I’ll want everyone back in by five in the
morning ready for the papers. Also, I want as many copies of all Woods’s potential new looks run off so we can post them in every bar and on every telegraph pole in Key West first thing
tomorrow.

‘He’s right here in Key West, guys. Let’s go and get him.’

The four of them had been shown by a dark-suited flunkey into a sort of ante-room, a smallish lounge, where they had now been waiting for several minutes. Portraits of past
presidents looked down on them benignly from the walls and an enormous vase of lilies adorned a polished cherrywood table in the centre of the room.

Jeb, deep in a chintz-covered armchair, glanced at his watch.

‘This is a bit odd,’ he said. ‘The Kennedys are usually punctilious about meeting their guests personally as soon as they arrive. I wonder what’s going on?’

As if on cue the door opened and Jackie Kennedy walked into the room.

Stella caught her breath. The casual Beach Jackie in slacks and sweater had vanished: in her place was the stunning fashion icon slavishly copied by women around the world. This evening the
First Lady was dressed in a simple black shift worn to the knee, with three-quarter-length sleeves. She was in black low-heeled shoes and wore a single-strand necklace of pearls with matching drop
earrings. Her hair, which sometimes looked black in photographs and on television, was in fact a rich, glowing chestnut. Tonight, it tumbled down to her shoulders and the front was swept up and
back from her smooth, wide brow. Her make-up was minimal.

The simple-but-chic glamour may have been understated, but its impact was stunning. Stella glanced across at her mother. Diana appeared to be transfixed, her mouth very slightly open as she
stared at the vision that stood smiling at them all from the doorway.

‘Good evening, everyone, I’m so sorry about this delay,’ their hostess said as she moved further into the room, and the spell was broken. Everyone stood up.

‘It’s a real pill and I think our plans for tonight might have to change,’ she continued, crossing to shake hands with Diana, who was wearing a sleeveless dark-green dress and
matching court shoes with heels at least two inches higher than the First Lady’s. ‘You must be Diana. I’m Jackie – welcome to the White House. Gracious, you’re
beautiful. Mind, Jeb did tell me you were.’

Diana murmured something that nobody could quite catch and Jackie turned to Stella and shook her hand too. ‘Hello again, Stella. Last time we met we could hardly hear ourselves speak above
the noise of Bobby and Ethel’s children.’

Stella laughed. ‘They’re certainly quite a handful, Mrs Kennedy, I could see that.’

Jackie waved one hand quickly. ‘It’s Jackie, please . . .’ She turned to the Rockfairs. ‘Dorothy, Jeb . . . you’re both looking very spiffy tonight.’

‘Sounds like we’re all dressed up with maybe nowhere to go, except back to our hotel,’ Jeb smiled. ‘But you look fabulous, Jackie, as always. Don’t you ever have an
off night?’

‘As a matter of fact we’re
all
having an off night tonight, or we’re about to, I suspect,’ Jackie replied. ‘I can’t go into details but something
serious has just blown up, and I mean
very
serious. Bobby’s juggling about seven phone calls at once and the President’s going to be joining him shortly. Ah, but here he is
now.’

Jack Kennedy had walked into the room. Stella had last seen him in swimming shorts and an old T-shirt; now he looked every inch a president in his beautifully tailored charcoal-grey suit,
gleaming white cuffs shot an inch below the sleeves, and a narrow silver tie knotted beneath his button-down collar.

Afterwards, Stella and her mother would agree that the mere sight of him had delivered an almost physical jolt, a small electric shock to the senses.

He was smiling at them but there was tension beneath the smile; they could all see that.

‘Jeb, Dorothy . . . Stella . . . and, ah, you must be Diana,’ he said, unconsciously echoing his wife a few moments before. ‘Welcome to the White House. Has Jackie explained
how the land lies here this evening?’

‘Sure,’ said Jeb, speaking for all of them. ‘Jackie says that there’s a problem, and whatever it is, it’s a biggie. Is it some kind of political knot, Mr President?
Anything I can do to help unravel it?’

Jack Kennedy’s smile tightened. ‘Thanks, Jeb, but I, ah, think not, on this particular occasion. Even Bobby’s beaten to the wide on this, though he’ll rally. He’ll
have to. No, it’s not a political problem – not a domestic one, anyway. Let’s just say we, ah, unexpectedly find ourselves in what I might call uncharted waters. It’s not
something one of your beautifully crafted speeches or press releases is going to fix, Jeb, I can tell you that.’

‘Wow.’ It was Dorothy. ‘My imagination’s running riot here. Is this something you’re going to have to go public with, Jack?’

For some reason her use of his Christian name seemed to relax him a little. But he shook his head. ‘No. Not yet at least. We’re still assessing the situation. But if this is what we
think it is then, yes, I can see myself having to go on TV with it in a day or so.’

Jackie slipped an arm around her husband’s waist. ‘It’s all going to turn out fine, Jack. You and Bobby are smart guys. You’ll settle this business between you, you know
you will.’

Jeb looked at the others. ‘Well, whatever it is it sounds like we should all get out of your hair, Mr President. We’ll go back and eat at the Willard, once we’ve checked in.
It’s only a block away from here.’

The President nodded. ‘I’m real sorry about this, especially for you, Stella.’ He turned to her. ‘I was very much looking forward to hearing how you pulled off such an,
ah, extraordinary achievement down there in Florida. But it’ll have to keep for another time.’

He looked directly at Diana. ‘I hear you have to go home to England in a day or so, Diana. Perhaps next time you’re in America you’ll let us know so we can invite you back here
with your daughter and these two, ah, good-for-nothings.’

What extraordinary eyes he’s got, thought Diana as she thanked him, while Dorothy simultaneously blew the President a raspberry. A sort of greenish-grey. They seemed to look right into
you.

The President held her gaze for a moment longer than was necessary, and Diana felt the beginnings of a flush rising from her throat.

Then he was addressing his wife.

‘Jackie, I’ve got a couple of things to pick up from down the hall here, and then I’ll be in with Bobby for the rest of the evening. Don’t wait up for me, this is going
to be a long night.’

He turned to their guests. ‘Once again, I apologise. We’ll do this again properly, I promise.’

And he was gone.

‘Well . . .’ said Jeb. ‘If someone could see us downstairs, Jackie, we’ll go over to the Willard. Would you care to join us there for supper?’

The First Lady shook her head. ‘No thanks, Jeb. I feel I should stay here tonight, but it’s nice of you to offer.’

Diana, who was still feeling faintly unsettled by the President’s unflinching gaze, raised one hand. ‘I’m sorry, everyone, but I just need to powder my nose . . . Mrs Kennedy,
where’s the nearest bathroom?’

The First Lady smiled. ‘Diana: I’m afraid our rescheduled dinner is entirely dependent on your agreeing to call me Jackie from this moment on.’

Diana returned her smile. ‘Then I’d be delighted to, Jackie.’

‘And I’d be delighted to show you to the nearest bathroom. Come along with me.’

The two of them went out into the corridor. After a few moments, the others heard both women laughing.

‘Crikey,’ Stella said. ‘I’ve never seen my mother like
that
before. She looked like she’d swallowed a horse-tablet or something. Sounds like she’s
getting back to normal now, though.’

‘Oh, everyone freezes up a bit when they first set eyes on either of those two in the flesh, let alone both of them together,’ Dorothy said matter-of-factly. ‘You
wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. I certainly did. Especially when JFK zaps you with those amazing eyes of his. The Germans have a word for it, don’t they –
Führer-Kontakt.
There’s something almost hypnotic about someone who wields enormous power, whether it’s for evil or for good.’

She turned to her husband and lowered her voice. ‘Did you see the way Jack looked at her just now, Jeb? I hope Jackie didn’t notice.’

He shrugged. ‘She probably did, but who knows what goes on in a marriage, Dottie? We’ve spoken about this before. Whatever his weaknesses, she loves him. She will do until the day he
dies.’