Weekend (29 page)

“They’re not telling us everything.”

“The water must have been bad no matter what they say. Don’t drink it.”

“If they think I’m going to eat anything from their kitchen, they’re crazy.”

“They ain’t keeping me here for six days. I don’t give a damn what they say!”

Ellen and Sid retreated through the stage’s back entrance. The public health nurses waded through the crowd. The lights on the nightclub’s stage shut off as though a performance had just ended. At the back near the bar, some people had already started taking advantage of the free booze. Others looked at them as though they were totally insane.

“We should have told them everything,” Ellen said, as she and Sid followed a corridor that would take them back around to the front of the hotel. “They’re going to find out one way or the other that people have died and then they won’t believe anything we tell them.”

“If you had mentioned death, you would never have been able to hold them together long enough to get anything out. Believe me.”

“Maybe,” Ellen said. Then she stopped walking. “But that’s the last time. I will not tolerate a single additional half-truth around here any more. No matter what the consequences.”

Sid nodded. They walked on.

Manny Goldberg’s face was flushed. When the mass meeting with Ellen ended, he dashed out of the nightclub so quickly that Flo got lost in the crowd behind him. Finally, she caught up with him in the lobby.

“What’s the big rush? You’re running like you’ve got somewhere to go.”

“I can’t stay here,” he murmured. “There’s no way.” He looked about as if to see if there were escape routes hidden behind the chairs and couches.

“You didn’t feel well before, Manny,” she said, touching the palm of her hand to his forehead. “Maybe you should go for the examination.”

He brushed her hand away roughly. “I’m all right. I’m all right.” She shook her head and followed him outside.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’ve got to get back to the city,” he whispered. She studied his face. His eyes were wide and excited. His mouth was open, the lips straining at the corners. She stepped back. He looked as though he had gone berserk. For a moment she wondered if he had indeed contracted cholera and this wild and strange reaction was one of the symptoms.

“What’s wrong with an extra few days on the house? We’ll call my brother. You know Mike can be trusted to handle the business. Besides, you heard them. There are policemen all around to make sure we don’t get out.”

“I still gotta go,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. He brought his hands out from his waist and began slapping the sides of his legs. Carrying on a tantrum like that, dressed in his ill-fitting tee shirt and sloppy bermudas, he looked almost comical.

“Manny, get hold of yourself, for godsakes. Everyone’s looking at you.”

He turned around and glared. “Look,” he said. “Look.” He took her arm brusquely and led her on to the patio. “I lied to you.”

“When? What lie?”

“When I told you Mike was selling out his partnership in the firm to raise money for debts. It wasn’t true. It’s the other way around.”

“I don’t follow you, Manny. What are you trying to tell me?”

“I made a bad investment. I … I gambled on something that didn’t come through.” He began to slap his legs again.

“But …”

“I had to borrow some money fast to cover myself so I put up our piece of the business as collateral.”

“That’s impossible,” she said. “I’d have to sign documents too. Don’t try to bullshit me about this, Manny. My father took great pains to explain things to me. I may not be a genius but—”

“I …” He looked away from her. “I forged your signature.”

“You did what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I had to. It looked like a sure thing. There was this prime land. A fast food chain was supposed to buy it. I had inside information.” His face strained with every sentence. He looked as though he would explode at any minute. “I gambled a hundred thousand dollars. If it went through, I coulda made a half million, but …”

“The food chain didn’t buy it,” she said quietly.

“Yeah. That’s about it.”

“So what’s going to happen now?”

“The guys I borrowed from want their money back. Mike said he’ll be able to raise fifty thousand dollars on my share of the company. That’s the amount I need to hold them off. If I don’t get there by Tuesday …”

“So they’ll wait.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “they won’t. They’re not the type who wait.”

“What do you mean they’re not the type who wait. Just who are these people anyway.” She raised her voice. “Tell me, who?”

“What’s the difference who? I borrowed money and I’ve got to be there Tuesday to repay some of it. That’s the only thing that’s important. There are papers I have to sign.” He started muttering to himself. “You don’t understand. You just don’t understand.”

“And Mike,” she said. “What happens to the business if my brother can’t come up with the fifty thousand dollars?” Manny stared at the grass beneath his feet. “You asshole, you dumb …” She started to get hysterical. “My father worked all his life to build that business and now Mr. Bigshot here …”

“Your father, your father.”

She was at him in an instant, like a wild animal. For a few moments his body absorbed all the pain, all the agony, all the tension she’d ever experienced. She swung out indiscriminately, her hands clenched into small fists. She kicked and pounded at him. He tried to fend her off, holding his arms up to serve as an umbrella.

“Stop it, you crazy …”

A small crowd began to gather. Two men stepped forward and tried to hold her back. She cursed and spat at them as well. One man’s arm was badly scratched. Manny retreated, waving his fist at her.

“You do that again and I’ll belt you one in the mouth. I swear it.”

“Bastard,” she screamed. He walked off toward the side of the building. She relaxed and the men let her go.

“Take it easy, lady. We’ve got enough troubles around here as it is.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she said. They moved away from her quickly and the crowd dispersed. She looked in the direction of Manny’s retreat and then went back into the hotel.

Sandi looked out her bedroom window and watched the guests emerging from the main house. She had seen and heard them all being gathered inside and she knew what must have taken place. So this was the “partnership” her mother had designed for her. This was the way she would be treated like an adult—told to stay home, kept away from the hotel. It had all been words, meaningless adult words again. In her mother’s eyes, she was still a little girl.

She certainly didn’t want to stay alone at the farmhouse for the next six days but she didn’t know what else to do. Alison was pretty mad at her so she doubted she would come over. She thought about calling some of her friends from school and seeing if she could visit, but then she remembered she couldn’t get off the grounds. God, she really was a prisoner.

Grant Kaplan, she thought. They had made a vague agreement to meet again, but he probably had forgotten all about it by now. He was so strange—yet thinking about him seemed even more enticing than it was before. In the midst of all the turmoil, all the new restrictions and confinements, the thought of a rendezvous took on added danger and intrigue. She wondered what he was doing and how he had reacted to what had happened.

She went to the phone and tried to call him but all the lines were tied up and they stayed that way for as long as she tried. Finally she gave up in disgust and flopped on the bed. For a while she just lay there, thinking about different guys who she thought were cute. Included in her list was this new man, Bruce Solomon. Wouldn’t it be fun to be over at the office working alongside him? She began to fantasize. Together they would solve the crisis. Afterward they would walk in the moonlight, holding hands, laughing and talking softly. Then he would take her in his arms and kiss her passionately. His lips would travel down her neck. She’d let him run his fingers under her blouse. Maybe they would sit on a bench in the darkness. Maybe …

The ringing phone shattered her fantasy. For a moment she resented it. Then she realized it was contact with the outside and she practically lunged for the receiver. It was Magda.

“Hi, Sandi. Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?” She was a little put out that it wasn’t Grant.

“I just wanted to make sure. Can you make supper yourself or would you like me to come over later and do it for you?”

“I’m not a baby, Magda.”

“No one said you were. I just thought you might want some company. What will you have for dinner?”

“I dunno. I’m not very hungry.”

“You’re feeling all right, aren’t you?” There was obvious concern in her voice. Sandi debated whether or not to plant some doubt in Magda’s mind. She felt just mad enough at her mother to do it, but then she realized they’d send Dr. Bronstein over and she’d have to go through some sort of medical examination. She changed her mind.

“I’m fine. I’m just bored.”

“Be grateful for that,” Magda said. “I’ve got to go back to work. I’ll call you later.”

“Magda, wait.”

“Yes?”

“I want to call someone in the hotel but the damn lines are tied up.”

“I guess all the guests are calling home. You can imagine what’s …”

“Can’t you get me a line? Please?” Her plea was hard to refuse.

“Okay, I’ll try. But remember, don’t invite anyone over to the farmhouse. Your mother …”

“I won’t.”

“Good girl. Hang up and I’ll have them ring you as soon as a line’s free.”

“Thanks, Magda. You’re a peach.”

She sat back and waited. Less then five minutes later, the switchboard operator called. Sandi asked for Grant’s room. When the phone didn’t answer on the fourth ring she was ready to give up. Then he picked up the receiver.

“I’m confined to the farmhouse,” she said. “It’s Sandi.”

“I know. Whadja do, rob the cookie jar?”

“Very funny. Don’t you know what’s going on at the hotel?”

“I didn’t go down to that meeting, if that’s what you mean.”

“Why not?”

“I took a shower instead.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Honest. The faucet’s still drippin’.”

“Grant, people at the hotel got cholera. It’s a bad disease. The hotel’s under quarantine.” He was silent. “The police won’t let anyone in or out for six days.”

“So that’s why they locked that gate,” he said, suddenly making sense of what he had seen earlier. “I told her but she didn’t believe me.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. So you can’t come out of your little farmhouse, huh?”

“I’m not supposed to but I can if I want to.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I mean it. Remember, we have a date at the hideaway at nine o’clock tonight.”

“Okay,” he said, “but I’m warning you, I’m not going to wait more than five minutes.”

“I’ll be there. You’ll see.” She wanted to say good-bye but he had already hung up.

For a few moments she debated the sense of keeping the rendezvous. How could he not have been curious enough to go to that meeting? What was wrong with him? And did she want to be alone with a kid like that? The prospect carried an element of fear with it, but that same fear began to create its own excitement, and the way things were going right now, confined as she was to the house, she sure could use some real excitement.

I’ll be there, she decided. I’ll be there.

“I certainly can use that drink now,” Melinda said. “Why don’t we go to the bar?”

“You go on. I’ll join you later. I have to make some calls.”

“Don’t be long, sweetie. I’ll be waiting for you.” She ran her fingers through his hair.

Nick recombed it as soon as he was out of her sight and made his way to the nearest house phone. Where the hell was Jonathan Lawrence? How come he wasn’t on that stage with Ellen?

Nick had been seething the entire time he was in the Flamingo Room. All this just didn’t happen by itself, obviously. Jonathan must’ve known something about it when they spoke. Why didn’t he warn him? Why hadn’t he leveled with him from the beginning? Nick felt like a fool, and not only because Jonathan had withheld critical information from him. Just yesterday he had reported back to his bosses, even though it wasn’t completely true, that it looked like a fait accompli. By now the news must surely have broken back in the city. His suspicions were verified when the telephone operator informed him there were messages waiting for him.

“You’ve had two calls, Mr. Martin, each asking you to call back immediately, but unfortunately all our lines are tied up at the moment.”

“These are urgent.”

“That’s what everyone is saying, sir.”

“Do you have the times of those calls?”

“One came in an hour ago, Mr. Martin, and the other ten minutes later.” Damn, he thought, while I was in Melinda’s room. I should have left a referring room number. “I might suggest you try the pay phones down by the coffee shop, sir, although I assume there’ll be a wait there, too.”

“Where’s Mr. Lawrence?” he demanded.

“Mr. Lawrence isn’t taking any calls. He is no longer in his office.”

“Can you tell me where I can find him?”

“I really can’t say, sir.”

Odd, he thought. Had Jonathan already left the hotel grounds? Gotten out before Nick had a chance to set the record straight? He hung up and headed down to the coffee shop. When he got there he saw the long lines waiting for the pay phones. It was terribly frustrating. He just hoped his bosses would understand. He’d have to wait and explain it to them later. Right now it was imperative he find Jonathan.

He walked quickly to the carpeted stairway and headed for the mezzanine. Maybe the operator had been giving out the story about Jonathan’s not being around so he wouldn’t be bothered by guests. Well, he’ll see me, Nick thought, whether he wants to or not. When he got to the general manager’s office, he found the secretary packing papers into a carton.

“Deserting the ship?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh, no sir. This is just some papers Mrs. Golden requested I send down to her office. Are you looking for Mr. Lawrence?” She stood up straight.