Murdering Americans (5 page)

‘We like it, Lady Troutbeck.’

The baroness took a bite of tomato and spat it out. ‘Tastes of nothing. It’s all horrible.’

‘Maybe it’s horrible to you, Lady Troutbeck, but it isn’t like horrible to us. We think our food’s like cool.’

Two enormous students lumbered past and began slavering over the ice-cream bar. The baroness gestured towards them. ‘Look at them. They should be grazing in the lettuce section.’

‘Doesn’t anyone get like fat in Europe?’

‘Some do. And I certainly am no sylph, as you can see…’ She sighed when she saw Betsy’s face. ‘A sylph is a mythological being of the air, but we won’t go into that. The term is used to mean slender, which, as you can see, I am not, though the way things are going, I soon will be.’ She pushed her still-laden plate aside. ‘But we don’t do fat like Americans do fat. Americans do fat on a grand, grand Rocky Mountains scale. As a people you seem to be puritanical about alcohol and tobacco, while actively encouraging gluttony. And incidentally, our food is vastly superior. It actually tastes of something.’

‘You mean you don’t have like McDonald’s and pizza chains and Krispy Kremes? Poor you.’

‘Well, we do have…’ The baroness’s face contorted. ‘…fast food.’

‘Hey, I think maybe you like don’t live like ordinary people?’ said Betsy, and gave the baroness a broad grin.

‘You mean I live in an ivory tower?’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s figurative, Betsy, but I have a hazy idea it derives from a stand-offish Old Testament king who lived in an ivory house and didn’t know what his people were up to and came to a sticky end. It’s used of academics to suggest, rightly, that with a very few exceptions they have no grasp of what goes on in the real world.’

Betsy was frowning with concentration. ‘Does figurative mean like a picture in your mind that like helps you get an idea?’

‘You’ve got it. A metaphor.’

Betsy looked blank again.

‘Betsy, didn’t you tell me earlier that you were studying English?’

‘You don’t really do like much English as English here, Lady Troutbeck. You’ve got to see it through different kinds of specialist studies and this year most of my programme is Women’s Studies.’

‘I take it you learn no grammar, no figures of speech, nothing like that.’

‘Our professor says things like that are like repressive and patriarchal.’ Betsy laughed. ‘Hey, maybe she like lives in an ivory tower and isn’t normal like me.’

‘So tell me something about you normal people. You’re a student. Why are you squiring me about? Why aren’t you in the library?’

‘My parents don’t have much money, so I work as well as study. Mostly I drive visitors around and right now I’m helping look after VIPs. It’s really exciting. I get to meet such interesting people.’

‘Like whom?’

‘Well, like you. You’re my second, but I met a lord from England last week. And I’ve never met a lord before.’

‘Who was this English lord?’

‘Lord Cunningham. He’s another DVP.’

‘DVP?’

‘Distinguished Visiting Professor.’

‘Cunningham? Not Rowley Cunningham? Squat little chap with glasses.’

‘He’s short and has glasses. He’s here like to do a programme at the Peace Centre.’

The baroness snorted. ‘Hell and damnation! What a creature to meet up with here. Never could stand the little prat. Talk about giving peace a bad name….’

‘He was a bit cross,’ said Betsy. ‘So were you, but you said sorry.’

‘So how was he interesting?’

Betsy giggled. ‘I just like said that to be like positive. I thought he was a bit mean really. He shouted at me for being late, but like it wasn’t my fault cos he caught an earlier airplane than he said. And then on the way he asked me was I ashamed of living in like the most hated country in the world.’

‘Sounds like the little bastard. What did you say?’

‘I said I was totally proud to be an American and then he was totally rude about the President being like a war-monger. I don’t think it’s cool to go to a foreign country and start insulting it the minute you like land.’

‘Like I have,’ grinned the baroness.

‘You’ve only been rude about silly stuff.’

‘I wouldn’t call food and drink silly stuff.’ The baroness grimaced as she nibbled on a piece of garlic bread. ‘Rotten bread. Still, essentially you’re right. He had no right to say what he did to a stranger. You did well to stand up to him. America has its faults, but it’s a great and generous country and you can usually guarantee that the people who hate it are ignorant or envious shits. Or both.’ She pushed away her bread plate and returned miserably to the salad. ‘So what were you doing before you went on VIP duty?’

‘I was a cheerleader.’

The baroness sat up. ‘Really. But wasn’t that a hobby, not a job?’

‘Oh, no. I got a scholarship for cheerleading and I had to spend 25 hours a week on it.’

‘So what happened?’

Betsy looked at her plate. ‘I like flunked out.’

‘Not good enough?’

‘Sort of. But I’m really glad I’m doing this instead.’

‘You’re a real little Pollyanna, aren’t you, Betsy?’

Betsy was confused. ‘Pollyanna?’

‘Dear God, don’t they teach you anything? Pollyanna is a fictional character who was—if my memory serves me—hoping for a dolly from the bran tub.’

‘The bran tub?’

‘It was, I thought, an American custom to hide prizes in a bran tub and have a lucky dip.’

‘Oh.’

‘I see we have a generational as well as a cultural chasm, here, Betsy. But we will plough on. Since Pollyanna’s father was the clergyman in charge of the bran tub, she was the last to choose, and there was no dolly. Only a crutch.’

Betsy’s face crumpled. The baroness feared she saw a tear in her eye and went on hastily, ‘‘Yes, indeed. It was very sad, but Pollyanna said that she was glad glad glad that she didn’t need the crutch. This was the approach she adopted to all setbacks even when orphaned. In fiction, it made her universally loved. In real life, it can grate. In any case, you remind me of her.’

This time Betsy’s eyes were definitely glistening. ‘You mean I get on your nerves?’

‘No, no. Well, only a very little and not as much as I expect I get on yours. I like you. And though Pollyannas can be annoying, they are much preferable to Eeyores.’

‘Eeyores?’

‘We’ll cover that another time. Now what’s next?’

Betsy looked at her watch and jumped up in alarm. ‘We must run. It’s time to visit with the Provost.’

***

‘Meet my personal assistant, Dr. Ethan Gonzales, Jack.’

The baroness looked with interest at the enormous black man and proffered her hand. ‘Delighted to meet you, Dr. Gonzales.’ His grip was deliberately firm to the point of being painful, so she strengthened hers and heroically exhibited no sign of discomfort. Looking disappointed, he eventually let her hand go and she sat down opposite the Provost without being asked.

‘Any progress with fixing me up for hunting, Helen?’

The Provost tried to hide her distaste. ‘I’ve made some enquiries. There is deer-hunting, but it’s only in the autumn and just for two weeks. Someone suggested squirrel-hunting, but there are problems about you having a gun since you’re not a citizen. I don’t think you’ll get a permit.’

‘Oh, come now. You’re the Provost. I’m sure you can use your influence with the local police-chief. Isn’t this supposed to be a gun-toting society?’ She swivelled around and gazed at Gonzales, who was glaring at her from the doorway. ‘Surely you tote a gun, Dr. Gonzales?’

‘Certainly not,’ he snapped.

‘How disappointing. I’d have expected better from a macho chap like yourself.’

‘Less of that stereotyping shit, lady,’ said Gonzales.

The Provost cut in. ‘Ethan is a pacifist and Freeman U isn’t gun-toting, Jack. It’s anti-militaristic. No one’s allowed guns on campus and we don’t allow the military to recruit. But I’ll look into whether you can join some kind of hunt and maybe rent a gun. Maybe you could see to that, Ethan?’

‘When I have time,’ snarled Gonzales, and left the room.

‘What a charming man, Helen. I’m sure he’ll sort things out for me. I really feel like bagging myself a few stags. But if they’re out of season I suppose I’ll have to fall back on rodents.’

‘Now can we talk about what you’ll be doing here? I’m a bit concerned that from something you said last night, you’re not in favour of Affirmative Action.’

‘You’re quite right. I’m a meritocrat. I don’t believe in patronising people by lowering standards for them. I’m sure you didn’t do that with the enchanting Dr. Gonzales.’

‘You’re at Freeman U now, Jack, and I hope you’ll honour our rules.’ She picked a piece of paper from her filing tray and read out:

‘Freeman University is an Equal Opportunity/Affirmative Action employer and educational institution and does not discriminate on the basis of age, race, colour, religion, sex, sexual orientation, size, disability, national origin, or Vietnam era or other veteran status, in the admission to, or participation in, any educational program or activity which it conducts, or in any employment policy or practice.’

‘Yes, yes, yes, Helen. You don’t have to read to me. I’m literate. I don’t need Affirmative Action.’

‘I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, Jack. Of course we want you to think outside the box, but we don’t want any disconnects. Frictionless team-playing is our goal at Freeman.’

The baroness scrutinised the document from which the Provost had been reading. ‘You’ve left a category off that list,’ she observed.

‘What? Where?’

‘Species. Should you really be allowing for discrimination on the basis of species? Is my parrot to be denied his equal opportunities?’

The Provost looked at her coldly. ‘At Freeman we don’t like inappropriate humour, Jack. We are envisioners and empowerers. Not comedians.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said the baroness. ‘You shouldn’t discriminate against comedians either.

‘They’ve got lawyers too.’

***

The baroness took a nap after Betsy delivered her back to the hotel. Invigorated, she decided on a stroll before dinner. Within a few minutes she was in a wide and virtually empty street lined by dilapidated Victorian houses, few of which offered much evidence of even partial occupancy. Searching hopefully for a bar, she found signs only for a notary, an accountant, and a realtor before coming to a large area of waste ground full of tin cans and bits of cars. There was no bar on the other side, but a young man in a belted raincoat and a fedora jammed low over his forehead was leaning against a lamppost, smoking. On the front door to his left was an old-fashioned neon sign which read ‘M and V Private Investigators. No case too small.’

The baroness nodded at him. ‘Do you mean that about too small? Do you do misplaced spectacles and cats up trees?’

He touched his hat in salutation. ‘Beats killing time, lady.’

‘I don’t think it would if it was the cat in my life,’ she said with a guffaw. ‘Maybe I’ll be back to you about the spectacles.’

***

‘So it wasn’t a bad day, considering how appallingly it began,’ she told Mary Lou that evening. ‘I’m having fun winding up the prissy Provost and the unpleasant heavy she calls her PA by pretending I’m dying to go massacring animals, I have a fine office where Horace can be accommodated during the day, a share of an efficient-seeming secretary, an attractive gopher who’s a lot brighter than she first seemed, an enemy in the shape of Rowley Cunningham to keep my hand in, and, tomorrow night, I hope I will, inter alia, be meeting the renegade ex-dean at a dinner for faculty and distinguished visitors.’

‘You’re certainly whining less than last night. Did you find some real food?’

‘I invaded the hotel kitchen, bribed the chef, and stood over him until I got a rare steak and hot chips. I also procured a plain green salad with a simple dressing by making it myself and refusing all offers of extraneous ingredients. Various people kept wittering about me breaching safety rules and regulations by even being there, but I ignored them and they retreated.’

‘Wise people.’

‘Oh, and the bar was open and I found a bottle of wine that was not an insult. Tonight, Horace and I are on the train-free side of the hotel, and tomorrow I intend to get a serious grip on matters culinary. Indeed I plan to carry all before me.’

‘Of course you do, Jack.’

‘Any word from Robert and Rachel? I rang his mobile phone, but it seems to be out-of-order.’

‘As I explained before, Jack, it’s switched off. They’re set on avoiding avoid any post-wedding hysteria from Rachel’s family or demands from you, so they respond only to text messages and emails.’

‘I don’t have a mobile here so I can’t send a text message, even if I knew how. And obviously I can’t do emails.’

‘If you choose to handicap yourself through intellectual laziness and stubbornness, Jack,’ said Mary Lou icily, ‘don’t expect any sympathy from me.’

There was a silence.

‘You’re very sharp today.’

‘You’re very provoking.’

‘Well, so be it. I am what I am. You didn’t answer my question.’

‘I had a brief email from Italy. They’re happy.’

‘Remind them America awaits them.’

‘Sure, Jack. But it’s quite clear
they
are not awaiting
it
.’

***