Touch of Magic (16 page)

"It's a son of a bitch, isn't it?" asked Max, squint
ing at the sun and fanning his collar.

   
Ellery saw him check the pocket beeper that
would alert him if
Ballieu
left his room. It wasn't a
perfect system, but Max and Walker couldn't risk
showing up afterward every time
Ballieu
surfaced.
Whoever had downstairs duty had to be in place at
least part of the time.

"Walker seems kind of testy," said Ellery. "I
offered to buy him a sandwich before he headed back
up to relieve you, and he bit my head off."

"Pissed he didn't get that promotion to a desk job
he'd been shooting for." Max raked a hand through
his black curls and stretched comfortably, putting
his legs out. "Doesn't like your style, either. Face it,
Billy, you're so goddamn set on perfection, I've
wanted to take a swing at you a time or two myself."
His features drew back in a lazy smile. "Always
wondered which one of us would come out the win
ner if I did."

Max signaled to a waiter and Ellery chuckled,
coaxed from his somberness by Max's humor.

"Anything new on our man?" he asked, glancing across the pool to reassure himself Channing was still reading.

Max lit a cigarette. His expression tightened.

"Just that the man's endurance is frigging amaz
ing. He was in one woman's room at the crack of
dawn and just paid a visit to another who, reliable
sources tell me, is a high-class hooker. Besides
which he's been chatting up a brunette who'd give
any man hot flashes and playing bridge with some old broad. Sure doesn't fit the profile of someone in
his line of work, does it?"

Ellery felt the unpleasant breath at his back
again.

"It could be a smoke screen. He could be trying to
throw off anyone watching him. It could be he's
making contact with one of them."

"He's sure as hell making contact," Max said with
a leer.

"Have you sent in photos of the women to see if
we've got anything on any of them?"

"C'mon, Ellery. The man works alone."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Buy you a beer?"

Ellery shook his head.

"I'll tell you," drawled Max, still stretched out to
his full length, "listening to his activity's making me
properly horny." He looked across the pool. "You think our Channing would accommodate? Assuming I make up for that fall on my ass you helped me
take?"

Ellery kept his face perfectly clear of the irrita
tion that swelled inside him at Max's crudeness.

"I couldn't say."

Max was looking at him closely now but wasn't getting satisfaction.

"You interested in her, Billy?"

"That would be fairly stupid, wouldn't it?"

Ellery's words sounded more clipped than he'd
meant them to be. Max balanced a spoon between
his two hands. His fingers were long and blunt with
prominent knuckles.

"Getting mixed up with a woman's always stupid."

He sat up suddenly. The deceptive languidness of
his manner vanished. His face looked strained.

"You ever have premonitions, Billy?"

"Hunches? I suppose so. Why?"

Max's eyes looked at empty air beyond Ellery's
shoulder.

"I don't know. No reason. Only..." He
shrugged, one hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck. "I keep having this feeling this is going to be
my last time out."

*
  
*
  
*

Channing had thought to compose herself and
lose herself in the anonymity of the main lounge
before going on. Unfortunately Wilbur, the balding
assistant manager, had spotted her as soon as she
entered. Now, just as he was leaving, she saw Max
coming toward her. Ellery must be elsewhere and
Max in charge of watching her, she thought with
annoyance. Baby-sitting or just making sure she
didn't slip up?

"I like it. I definitely like it," Max said, leaning
easily on the bar and eyeing her black magician's
dress, the golden
kunjar
riding at its waist.

His gaze traveled up to the full pompadour that Channing knew gave her a different persona entirely. She could feel it happening when the hair
went up and the dress went on. She became a Stu
art. A conjurer. And tonight, if
Ballieu
showed up in
response to her phone call, she was counting on the
added powers that seemed to flow with that role.

"Looks like there's a fan who wanted to make sure he didn't miss your show."

Max flicked an eye, and Channing followed its
direction to see Henri
Ballieu
settling in a few tables
back from the stage.

"Well. If he's sitting down, maybe I don't need to
worry about my neck."

She realized he hadn't understood her attempt at
a joke. She felt antipathy toward Max. He seemed
superficial, and that was not a quality she'd ever esteemed.

"Let me buy you one and we'll disappear where we don't attract notice," he said. "That mirror over
there's two-way. We've got use of the office on the
other side of it. What are you drinking?"

"A Virgin Mary -- and I don't need another."

She turned to leave the room with him despite
her personal feelings. They were coworkers, with
more vested interest than most in getting along.
Serafin
was back in the dining room having a second
dessert. She had time.

Max made a face at her words.

"You're not as clean-living as Billy, are you?"

"I'm working," she said pointedly.

Max had picked up a Scotch and water. He looked
amused and hard to ruffle.

"Stick out like a bandaged thumb in this job if you
don't at least pretend to drink," he said. "Didn't you
learn that in training?"

He threw open the door to a small office. Across
one wall a tinted window looked out onto the
crowded lounge. Channing could see
Ballieu
. A
woman was joining him. Channing weighed her an
swer, aware Max already had detected her hesita
tion.

"I didn't have training. I'm just the bait on this
assignment. Because I knew
Yussuf
."

If he and Walker ever needed to rely on her, they
ought to know that.

Max's eyebrows rose.

"Nervy. I guess I owe you an apology for that
unsolicited two cents' worth." He waved around him. "Pretty nice setup, huh? The management
thinks Walker and I are from the state liquor con
trol, checking up on how they mind their
p's
and
q's
.

"Look, if you're coming into this thing cold, don't
hesitate to ask for help if you need it -- and don't
take it to heart if Bill lights into you sometimes. He's
a stickler for detail." Max hoisted his glass. "Great
guy, but still a classic case of rich boy trying to
redeem himself by playing cop."

Channing let her curiosity show before she could
stop it. Max read it and grinned.

"Didn't you know? He's one of the
Ellerys
. Daddy
made millions in real estate. Brother's a senator."

She felt annoyed, as though she'd betrayed Ellery in some way by revealing how little she knew about him.

"Well, speak of the devil," Max said cheerfully as
the door opened.

Ellery sounded out of breath. His hair was dishev
eled.

"Search his room already?" asked Max.

"Just a once-over. We'll do the full treatment as soon as Channing starts her show. He tore out our
bugs."

"Both of them?"

"Yeah. Awfully cautious or else he's suspicious."

Ellery's shoulders sloped as he sat on the edge of a
desk.

"Goddamn ass-grabbing butcher." Max moved to
the window, sipping his drink and peering out at
Ballieu
. "It'll spook him if we replace them," he said
after a minute. "That means we're stuck with keep
ing tabs on the bastard by visual contact!"

"Looks like it." Ellery rubbed his hands together
as if in thought. "This sure as hell isn't a place he'll
carry a briefcase, and I don't see any other way to
get a bug on him."

Max clinked the ice in his drink back and forth
against the sides of his glass.

"How big are they?" asked Channing.

By the way their heads raised, she knew both men had all but forgotten her. Ellery came alert
immediately, picking up the direction of her
thoughts.

"They can come pretty small. You got an idea?"

"Could I get one into his wristwatch? Between
the links of the band, maybe?"

Ellery was silent. Waiting. She sensed approval in
the reaction -- the first she'd felt from him. For an
instant now she was truly part of the team.

"I'm going to do some close-up work in the audi
ence. If I ask to borrow his watch, he'll think it's just
a cover to set up a meeting."

Ellery's slow outward breath showed admiration
as well as reluctance. Max let out a short whistle.

"Jesus, Billy. She's something!"

  
"I'd need to know what the watch is like before I
try it." Channing was starting to feel the pressure of
time. Fifteen minutes till she was due backstage, and not much time after that till she went on. "I'd
need to see how it's built -- where to put the thing.
I'd need to practice."

Ellery seemed to think for a second and then,
without speaking, snatched Max's glass up and was out the door. A moment later, through the window,
he came into view strolling in
Ballieu's
direction.

"What--?"

Channing let her question die. She had moved to
the window and watched with Max.

Ellery pretended to lose his grip on the glass,
which spilled onto
Ballieu's
table. Ellery bent, apparently apologizing, and summoned a waiter.
Bal
lieu's
hands pantomimed an irritated "It's okay." He moved to a neighboring table.

"That's Billy," said Max with a grin. "Nerve clear
up to the old -- well, you get the drift."

Channing scarcely nodded. Ellery was making an exit into the hall. Time was precious. She hurried to
join him.

There were couples drifting toward the lounge to
find a place for the floor show, a Latin tamale with a
drink in her hand and three men following her.
Channing dodged around them. She and Ellery fell
into step together, walking quickly and like strang
ers.

"It's a Rolex," Ellery said. "Metal expansion band
pretty much like this, if you want to use it."

He slipped a cheaper watch from his wrist and
Channing took it, all in one smooth movement.

"I'll get what you need and drop it off in your
dressing room in a couple of minutes."

There was no time for more. They split off like
two people going opposite ways in a marching
band. Yet Channing felt a sudden synchronization
between them.

A moment later she was through the door to her
dressing room.
Serafin
stood in front of the mirror.
He wore pants and a cutaway jacket, borrowed
from a dining room waiter with the explanation that
his own had been lost in transit. Channing won
dered briefly how many untruths she'd tell in behalf of him and Ellery before she was finished.
Serafin
turned. He was clearly excited.