And 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2) (21 page)

BOOK: And 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2)
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“I don’t know either, and I can’t find out because Hubbaker’s gone,” Rosado said.

“He’s probably skipped,” Trace said. He talked very softly. “You could do me a favor if you wait before putting out a want on him,” Trace said.

“Why’s that?”

“First of all, he didn’t have anything to do with anything. Second of all, I wouldn’t mind if his bail was forfeited.”

Rosado looked past Trace toward Walter Marks, sitting at the dinner table, looking disgusted.

“I understand,” Rosado said. “I will pursue the baron with all due slowness.”

“Polly want a hit,” one of the parrots squawked.

27
 

The annual convention of the Garrison Fidelity Insurance Company was over. It had ended with a gala banquet at which Bob Swenson, company president, had praised the dedication and zeal and intelligence of the men who had made the company what it was, among them none other than Walter Marks, “our brilliant vice-president for claims.”

After the dinner, Marks pleaded an early plane and passed up the opportunity to come to Trace’s apartment for an after-dinner party to celebrate the convention and also Trace’s birthday, now one day past.

Swenson came. Alone.

“Where’s National Anthem?” Trace asked

“It’s all over,” Swenson said.

“What happened?”

“She’s leaving the country.”

’Why?” Trace asked.

“Why? Because she got a goddamn offer to star in some Zulu epic or something.
The Queen of the Apes
. I guess she never balled a gorilla before. Anyway, she left, and I don’t want to talk about it. Where’s your phone?”

“Use that one,” Trace said.

Swenson dialed long distance. As he was dialing, he said to Trace, “You hear what I said about that dingaling, Marks?”

“Every word. I nearly threw up,” Trace said.

“You’ve got to praise the little people,” Swenson said. “It keeps them in line. You know, he told me he was going to give you enough rope to hang yourself. Poor bastard, he gave you forty-seven miles of rope and you wrapped it around his neck.”

Trace said, “I had a lot of help.”

“I’ll give him rope,” Swenson said. “Hello, Deirdre, this is Mr. Swenson…. Yes. Everything’s fine here; we finished everything up tonight. Monday morning, first thing, I want you to send one of the office boys to a hardware store…. Listen and I’ll tell you. I want one mile of rope…. That’s right. Rope. Clothesline. Deliver it to Walter Marks’ office…. That’s right. And put a note on it. ‘Better luck next time.’…. No, no. Don’t sign it and
don’t
let him know it came from me…. Yeah. I’ll be back Sunday…. Okay. Good-bye.”

He hung up and took the drink Chico offered him.

“Ain’t revenge grand?” Swenson said.

“Sure is,” Trace said. “Listen, there’ll be a lot of expenses on this one, Bob. No matter how it goes. Pop and Chico and me.”

“Whatever it takes. Just remember you owe me three thousand dollars.”

“I’ve got it. The check just cleared.”

Later they were joined by Dan Rosado and his wife, and last of all by Sarge and Mrs. Tracy. Trace thought she had a look on her face that would make a basset hound look absolutely jovial by comparison.

“What’s the matter, Mother?”

“It’s all your fault.”

“What is?”

“Last night, after I won all that money, I went to bed and I was thinking, If I bet more, I’ll win more. So today I went back to that machine and tried again.”

“How’d you do?”

“I gave everything back that I won yesterday. And I lost ten dollars besides. I’ll be glad to get home.”

“I’ll hate to see you go,” Trace said.

Later, Chico poured each of them a glass of champagne. Mrs. Tracy examined her glass carefully for dirt spots.

Chico led the toast. “To the man I sometimes love,” she said, raising her glass, which held barely a teaspoon of wine.

“To my friend,” said Bob Swenson, raising his glass.

“And mine,” Rosado said, lifting his glass, but not drinking.

They all looked at Mrs. Tracy, but she was still busy examining the glass. Sarge lifted his glass and said, “To my son.”

After they drank, Chico started singing “Happy Birthday.” Everyone joined in except Trace’s mother.

Chico clicked her glass against Trace’s. “All’s well that ends well, partner,” she said.

“All’s well that ends,” he said. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I love you.”

“That makes us even,” Chico said.

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