La Fleur Rouge The Red Flower (7 page)

Jenny was no longer a prisoner in her own home.

Hildy had escaped from Greg and his threats.

And so they were on their way to Paris.

CHAPTER VIII
 

Greg sat in a remote corner of the waiting room and watched the passengers as they arrived for their four-thirty flight to Paris. He saw no one who looked like Hilary, but this didn’t worry him. Dan had seen her name on the passenger list, and that was good enough for him.

As the plane left the gate, Greg stood by the window of the terminal watching with the satisfaction of a job well done. For a fleeting moment he felt a pang of guilt. She’s only twenty-five. He shook it off. No time for sentiment. It’s her fault for interfering. Your whole life and career are on the line here. That’s the important thing. There’s no other way to handle this, so forget it.

As soon as the plane took off for Paris, he headed toward the exit door of the building. His plane was due to leave from the domestic terminal on the other side of the airport.

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. He thought he saw Roger Fielding. His red hair stood out in the crowd. What in the world would he be doing here? He couldn’t possibly have seen you leave your town house in Boston!

Nevertheless, he pulled his collar up more tightly around his face and continued through the maze of corridors and out through the door. He hailed a cab and looked around to see if the man was following him. He didn’t see him. Just your imagination, he assured himself. But when the driver arrived at the domestic terminal and pulled up to the curb, Greg saw the same man getting out of another cab. He grabbed his suitcase and sped into the building as fast as his legs would carry him.

He approached the counter and checked his luggage with the ticket agent. As he watched it disappear on the conveyor belt, he thought he spied him again. By this time he was almost positive that whoever the man was, he was following him! What now? I have to shake him! He zigzagged his way through the crowd until he lost him.

I need a good stiff drink! he muttered, and headed for the First Class Lounge. He ordered a Scotch on the rocks - his favorite drink. No further sign of the man. Probably a fan who recognized me, he decided. He looked at his watch. It was getting close to boarding time. One more Scotch! I need it to relax after what I’ve just been through! When he heard the announcement for the First Class passengers to start boarding the plane, he downed his drink and left the Lounge. But as he walked toward the gate, he saw Roger. It really was Roger!

Greg ducked out of sight and headed in the opposite direction. I have to hide, he thought in a panic. But where? He quickly returned to the Lounge and ordered another Scotch. The clock on the wall said he had only five minutes to departure time! He felt trapped. He had to catch this plane! Jay would be waiting up for him.

He gulped his drink and walked stealthily toward the exit. Roger was nowhere in sight. He made a mad dash for his plane. Once I’m on board I’ll be safe, he mumbled. He arrived just as they were closing the doors. With a huge sigh, he entered the First Class section and sat down in his seat. His hands trembled as he fastened his seat belt. They were soon airborne.

Phew! That was close!

Dinner was served as soon as they were safely in the air and the seat belt sign was turned off. The flight was uneventful, and he spent the rest of the time watching the movie and thinking about Roger and Hilary. He looked at his watch. Only a few more hours and I’ll be rid of her. As far as Roger is concerned - well - I’ll take care of him when the time comes. And the others? He smiled. They probably won’t have the nerve to fight back. I don’t have to think about that now. He tilted his seat back and relaxed.

The announcement from the Captain that they would be landing in about twenty minutes woke him up. He looked out the window of the plane. New York looked like a fantasy land with the lights twinkling in the skyscrapers. The cars below on the parkways looked like the toys he used to play with when he was a boy. He thought bitterly of the expensive toy he had so desperately wanted when he was only five.

His New England parents, although they were quite well-to-do, were most conservative when it came to spending money. One bought only what one absolutely needed, was their philosophy. His toys were the cheapest they could find. Greg couldn’t stand being so limited. It gave him a feeling of worthlessness.

When he grew up, he decided to do anything to be rich and famous, so he could have anything he wanted the moment he wanted it. He had no patience. Whenever he wanted something, he wanted it right now! No waiting for him! Nothing and no one is going to stand in my way! he vowed. I’ll crush anyone who tries!

He had plenty of money now, with so many hits on Broadway and all over the world. As soon as he could afford it he bought the most expensive car he could find - a Rolls Royce. He also moved out of his folks stuffy, Bostonian home on Beacon Hill into a posh town house overlooking the Charles River, and he was toying with the idea of buying a condominium in New York on the East River. Perhaps in the same building as Jay. He could keep an eye on whoever came to see him, and head off the people he had stolen from in case they accused him. Not that Jay would believe such accusations, he thought smugly. But it’s wise to stay two steps ahead. New York is my town, he exulted, as the plane banked for the landing at Kennedy Airport. He smiled as he thought of his plan to fix Hilary. Too bad I had to do that to her, but what else could I do? I can’t have her ruining my life. I’ve taken care of her for good! A huge obstacle out of the way!

After picking up his luggage on the carousel, he went outside and hailed a cab that would take him to Jay Stuart’s condo on the East River, not too far from the United Nations Building.

How he loved the hustle and noise of the city, the honking horns, the neon lights flashing on the billboards, the night clubs, and the theaters! His chest heaved with pride as he saw “The Pepper Pot” on one of the marquees as they drove by. He now thought of it as his own creation. After all, hadn’t he had a great influence on Hilary’s work? She probably used some of my suggestions, he mused, excusing himself from any guilt, and conveniently forgetting that she wrote it under the name of “The Ginger Jar” six months before they met.

Every time he thought of Roger Fielding, he dismissed it. The time hasn’t come yet. He was confident that when it did, he would find a quick and convenient way to get rid of him, too.

The cab stopped under the porte-cochere of Jay Stuart’s condominium building. After paying the driver, Greg picked up his luggage and entered the lobby. The elevator was waiting and he pressed the button for the penthouse. It was one o’clock in the morning when Greg finally rang Jay’s doorbell.

Jay was waiting up for him. “Good trip?” he asked.

“Routine,” Greg replied. “Sorry to be so late. I had some things to take care of in Los Angeles. This was the earliest flight I could get.”

“No problem,” Jay answered. “I’ve made reservations on the ten o’clock plane to Paris tonight.”

Greg headed toward the kitchen. “Got anything to eat? I’m hungry.”

Jay was apologetic. “I cleaned everything out of the frig. With the trip to Paris coming up, I didn’t want to leave anything to spoil while we were gone. I left just enough for breakfast and lunch.”

“Why don’t we go to the coffee shop at the Waldorf?” Greg suggested. “They’re always open. We can sleep late. We don’t leave till tonight.”

Greg loved mingling with the crowd. The casts from the musicals would be there, and he would be the center of attention. Jay gave him an indulgent smile. “Good idea,” he agreed. “I’ve been cooped up here all day making preparations for our trip, and I could use a snack. I’ve got everything in order.” He reached for his jacket. “Let’s go.”

It was two-thirty in the morning when they returned to Jay’s condo. “Is there anything else you need before we turn in?” he asked Greg.

Greg yawned. “No, I don’t think so.”

“In that case,” Jay suggested, “I think we’d better turn in and get some rest. We have a long trip ahead of us and lots of work to do before we leave.”

CHAPTER IX
 

As soon as their plane took off for Paris, Hildy and Jenny settled back in their seats, thoroughly enjoying the flight. They sipped their white wine and savored the delicious dinner that the flight attendant brought them shortly after they were airborne.

It was raining when they took off, but the plane soon climbed above the clouds into a clear sky. The moon was full, and the stars, just beginning to appear, looked like tiny, sparkling diamonds twinkling their way through the floor of heaven.

Jenny turned to her dear friend and life saver. “Hildy, do you have any idea how glad I am that I’m going to Paris with you? Thank God we escaped from Ken! I don’t know what would have happened if I’d stayed home,” she said, shivering at the very thought.

Hildy patted her hand. “We’re a couple of beauts!” she said. “Both having trouble with men! I wonder if we’ll ever meet one we can trust.”

“Makes you kind of man shy, doesn’t it?” Jenny agreed.

“Sure does!” Hildy reached up and took a blanket from the bin above them. “Want one?” she asked Jenny.

Jenny nodded. “It is getting a little chilly,” she agreed, as she reached out for the blanket Hildy handed her. “Thanks. How about a pillow?” Hildy asked.

Jenny nodded again.

The flight attendant approached them, smiling. “Ready to turn in for the night? These seats make into beds, so you’ll get a good night’s sleep before we reach Paris. We’ll be at Orly Airport about eleven-forty-five in the morning. I’ve just been informed that there’
s a strong tail wind that will blow us into Paris early," she said, laughing. "Better set your watches nine hours ahead to agree with Paris time."

It didn't take the attendant long to convert their seats into very comfortable beds. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked.

Hildy smiled her thanks. "No, we're all set."

"I'll wake you at seven o'clock and bring your breakfast," the attendant told them, and left.

Hildy and Jenny snuggled down under the blankets and soon were sleeping soundly, little dreaming of the danger that lay in the overhead luggage bin directly behind them.

It was eleven-thirty AM, Paris time, when they arrived at Orly Airport. The weather was balmy and sunny. As they made their way down the escalator toward the luggage carousel, happy to be in Paris, there was a sudden, loud explosion! Smoke surrounded them! The force of it shook the whole building. They tightened their hold on the side rail to keep from being thrown down.

"What was that?!" Hildy gasped, as they scurried around trying to escape.

Jenny was almost in hysterics, but Hildy refused to cave in.

"I'm going to find out what this is all about!" she yelled above the noise. She grabbed Jenny's hand and pulled her toward one of the guards who had just appeared on the scene. "Pardon! Qu'est ce qui se passe?" she asked him.

The gendarme answered her in French. Hildy turned white as her knees started to give way.

"Hildy!" Jenny shook her to keep her from fainting. "Hildy, what did he say?"

Hildy held on to Jenny. Her voice shook as she spoke. "No! No! This can't be happening! I can't believe he'd go this far!"

"What? Tell me!"

Hildy grabbed Jenny's hand and headed for the nearest exit. "Jenny! Hurry!" she yelled. "They're evacuating the building!"

As they ran out to the street, the sound of the sirens was deafening. They looked frantically for a cab, but the drivers had all taken off, fearing another explosion. They were parked farther down the street, watching for passengers who, by this time, were swarming out of the terminal. Hildy and Jenny were in the front of the line, and flagged down the first one.

"La Grande Veue Hotel," Jenny told the driver as they got in.

A shocked, speechless Hildy sat in the cab staring off into space.

Jenny looked at her, waiting for an explanation. Her patience finally ran out. "Hildy, what did the man say?" She waited. "Hildy! Are you going to tell me what happened or not?" she demanded.

Hildy sat motionless, trying to grasp the situation, still reluctant to believe it. "Jenny - " she swallowed hard - "there was a bomb in the luggage rack right in back of us! It exploded a few minutes after we got off the plane!" She could barely get her breath as she continued. "If it hadn’t been for the tail wind that blew us into Paris early, the bomb would have gone off before we landed, and we'd all be dead!"

"What?!" Jenny gulped. "Do they know who did it? I mean, has anyone claimed responsibility?"

Hildy shook her head. "They have no idea, but I do. How could he?"

"Oh!" Jenny gasped. "You think it was Greg?"

"Jenny, I know he'd stop at nothing to keep me from talking! He knows I won't keep still forever." She shuddered as her eyes widened with horror. "Jenny - - he tried to kill me!"

Jenny shivered. "Are you sure it wasn't Ken's doing?"

Hildy was surprised. "What would Ken gain by killing you? You haven't signed anything yet. Besides, he didn't know where we were going."