Never Too Rich (65 page)

He tried to force himself to concentrate on the
matter at hand. He snatched up another interdepartmental form.
Rolled it into his decrepit typewriter. Lined up the spaces. Hunted
for the D key. Pecked. Hunted for the E. Pecked again. He typed, he
often thought, like a fucking bird searching for grain in
Russia.

“
Goddamn pencil pusher, that’s what
I am!” he growled. Yanking the form out of the typewriter, he
crumpled it into a ball and tossed it across the room.

Carmen Toledo looked up from her desk but didn’t say
a word. She had learned to gauge his moods and knew when to keep
quiet.

Koscina stared at the phone on his desk. It was just
no use. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind on
anything— at least not until he knew for certain that everything
was hunky-dory out in Southampton.

Picking up the receiver, he dialed the hotel where
Billie Dawn was staying and asked for her room.

Her extension rang and rang, but there was no
answer. Maybe she was asleep. But the ringing should have awakened
her. He didn’t bother leaving a message with the switchboard.

Next he dialed the showhouse.

Nothing. Not even a ring.

Now, that was strange—downright worrisome, in fact.
Frowning, he called the operator and had her check out the
line.

She told him to wait.

“
C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered
impatiently, drumming his nails on the scarred desk. “I haven’t got
all night. . . .”

Finally the operator came back on. “I’m sorry, sir,”
she told him, “there seems to be trouble on the line.”

Aw, shit!
Koscina shot his swivel chair back,
jumped to his feet, and grabbed his rumpled jacket.

Carmen Toledo looked up at him. “Where you going,
boss?”

“
Stay here!” he instructed her
tersely. “Get hold of the Southampton P.D. and have ‘em send a car
out to the showhouse. And pronto. Make sure they wait there until I
arrive!”

Then he was gone.

Anouk was on the second floor in the “English
country library” when she thought she heard the stealthy creaking
of a floorboard somewhere behind her. She felt the hairs at the
nape of her chignon rise and her skin begin to crawl. Frowning, she
turned around slowly.

She wondered: Did I leave the door open that far
when I came in? Is someone lurking in the shadows behind it?

She held her breath and listened.

Nothing stirred.

All was quiet. All seemed well.

She laughed softly at herself. How absolutely silly
of her! Of course she was alone among the shelves of antique books,
the chintz-covered furniture, the brass club fender, and the Tabriz
hunting carpet. She was only imagining things.

She decided she would soon go downstairs and inform
Billie Dawn, Hallelujah, and Edwina that it was time to knock off
for the night. The sooner they all did that, the better. This was
no place for women to be alone at such an ungodly hour. Strange
that now, after all the months during which the army of noisy
workmen and shrill decorators had swarmed over the house, the
sudden emptiness and silence she had yearned for should be so
downright eerie. Every creak suddenly seemed an ominous threat.

It was so easy to let one’s imagination run away. .
. .

Enough was enough, she told herself firmly. After
this room, she would call it quits.

But for some reason, the hairs on her neck were
still bristling. She shivered. Why wouldn’t they go down?

Quickly she got busy. Moved some chairs away from
the center table. Went along the shelves, pushing some books way in
while pulling others further out. Tilted a lampshade so that it sat
askew.

She stepped back to survey her handiwork. There. Her
deft little touches definitely threw the room off-kilter. Now it
was much, much better. Mark Hampton should never have told her that
she’d have to wait six months before he could redo her country
house.

She couldn’t resist a smirk. One never,
ever
made a de Riscal wait.

Turning around, she was about to head back out when
the door abruptly slammed shut in front of her. Even before the
shock registered, Anouk jerked instinctively back.

So someone
had
been lurking there!

It was then that the crazed knife-wielding drag
queen leapt out at her from the corner.

Run!
Anouk’s mind screamed.
Runrunrun!

But the monstrous caricature of a woman was too fast
for her. The raised knife flashed as it descended. Screaming, Anouk
threw up her arms to protect herself, but it wasn’t enough. The
knife plunged in.

Miss Bitch gave it a nice jerking twist and pulled
it back out. Plunged it in again. Yanked it back out. In. Out. In.
Chest. Arms. Belly. Throat. In.

“
There, my precious,” Miss Bitch
crooned, “that feels sooooo lovely, doesn’t it?” Almost gently he
slid a hand behind Anouk’s head and moved it forward so that she
impaled herself up to the hilt of the blade. Keeping her head
raised, he worked the knife around in slow circular
movements.

A jet of blood sprayed up, and Anouk’s narrow face
seemed to swell. Her eyes grew round with disbelief. Her throat
gurgled.

Miss Bitch sighed ecstatically as the rising spray
of blood rained down on both of them. “Oh, how nice! Doesn’t it
feel sooooo wonderfully, deliciously warm? Isn’t it fabulous,
darling?”

Anouk’s eyes grew paler and her tongue furled.

Miss Bitch lowered Anouk’s head and withdrew the
knife. Now a powerful geyser of blood pumped high and splattered
down. He plunged his hands into the sticky liquid and smeared his
bare arms crimson. Held them out and gazed at them admiringly. They
looked so lovely! So slick! And felt
sooooo
warm.

Anouk’s body convulsed one last time, her head fell
sideways, and she lay still.

Miss Bitch wiped the knife clean on his own
stockings and yanked Anouk’s chignon loose. Swiftly he set to
work.

“
Scalp number one coming up!” he
sang. “Eva Gabor, eat your heart out!”

Chapter 69

“
What was
that?”
Billie
Dawn’s entire body had gone stiff. She turned to Edwina and
Hallelujah. “Did you two hear it?”

“
It sounded like a scream,” Edwina
agreed slowly. Frowning, she cocked her head to one side. “But I
don’t hear it anymore.”

“
I’m telling you, it came from
somewhere inside this house!” Billie insisted. “I know it
did!”

“
C’mon,
you two!” Hallelujah
said anxiously, at the same time trying to sound very adult. “It
wasn’t anything but the wind.” She didn’t look very convinced,
though: fear had a habit of being contagious. Besides, although she
couldn’t speak for Billie Dawn, she could speak for her mother. And
it was not like Edwina to get spooked in an empty house—no, not at
all.

“
Now I don’t hear it anymore
either,” Billie said in a strained whisper. “You don’t suppose it
was Anouk, do you?”

“
Will you two
stop
it?”
Hallelujah cried. “The next thing you know, you’re like gonna make
us all totally freak out!”

“
I think we should leave,” Billie
said grimly.
“Now.
”

Edwina wasn’t listening; she was on her way out into
the hall. Billie and Hallelujah looked at each other and followed.
When they reached the grand foyer with its celestial theme, Edwina
cupped her hands. “Anouk!” she called out.

“
Aaaa . . . noooouk . . .!” Billie
echoed.

They fell silent and listened. The house was so
quiet they could have heard a pin drop.

“
Anouk!” Edwina tried
again.

“
Aaaa . . . noooouk!” Billie echoed
again.

Still there was no response.

“
I know I heard a scream,” Billie
said fretfully. “I wasn’t imagining it. You heard it
too.”

Edwina cut her off. “You two go back into the
ballroom,” she told Billie and Hallelujah. “Don’t under any
circumstances leave there. Is that clear?”

Billie grasped her by the wrist. “Where are you
going?”

“
It just occurred to me that
Officer Moody hasn’t dropped by in at least an hour and a half.”
Edwina paused. “You both heard him. He said he would come by every
forty-five minutes. And he hasn’t.”

“
Eds . . .” Billie
whispered.

“
Maybe he was, you know . . .
delayed?” Hallelujah still wasn’t ready to admit just how spooked
she really was.

“
Maybe,” Edwina granted. “But I’m
going outside to take a look around anyway. It can’t hurt, and I
won’t be gone long. Just you two stay together.” She paused
pointedly. “No matter what.”

“
If you run across my two
undercover cops—” Billie Dawn began.

“
I’ll make sure they tag along,”
Edwina said briskly.

“
Ma?” Hallelujah looked worried.
“Be like real careful? Okay?”

Edwina smiled. “I will, sweetie.” Swiftly she hugged
her daughter. “That’s one thing you can count on.”

She walked toward the door.

Carmen Toledo was insistent. “Well, can’t you radio
him and make him go check? Maybe they’re not in the house. Maybe
something happened.”

“
Officer Moody said he’d be looking
in on them,” the Southampton dispatcher told her. “Since I can’t
raise him by radio, he probably stepped out of his patrol car. He’s
probably out there right now, having a cup of coffee with
them.”

Carmen was not mollified. “Send another car out
there,” she insisted. “Just to make sure. Okay?”

“
Lady, how many cops you think we
got on duty. This ain’t New York City.”

Carmen was intractable. “I don’t care. Send one over
there
now”

“
Sure, sure.” The dispatcher’s
voice was bored.

“
I mean it!” she said
sharply.

“
Yeah.”

Carmen hung up. She stared at the telephone
balefully. Somehow she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was
only being humored.

She would give the dispatcher exactly ten minutes
and then pester him again.

Outside, the night was chilly and a brisk salt wind
gusted. Grit from the sand dunes pelted Edwina with sharp little
stings. Overhead, the high shredded clouds raced across the
umbrella of stars. To both left and right of the flagstone path,
leaves and branches rustled and rattled.

Edwina stood there a moment to get her bearings. She
could feel her heart beating too rapidly, and she tried to still it
by taking some deep breaths.

She looked around. The landscaping was floodlit by
concealed outdoor lighting that made for a rather bilious effect.
Everything looked yellowish-green and unreal, more like a stage set
than the moonlight it was intended to emulate. If anything, the
combination of bright lights and long shadows made the grounds seem
even creepier than if they had been entirely dark.

Suddenly she heard a twig snap in the bushes to her
right. She whirled in that direction. What was that? A small
animal? A human foot?

“
Is anybody there?” she called
out.

Nothing. Only the soughing of the wind, the rustling
of the bushes, the roaring of the nearby surf.

It had to be her imagination—didn’t it?

She started along the flagstones.

She hadn’t gone ten feet when the foyer door slammed
shut.

And the outdoor lights clicked off.

Chapter 70

11:46 P.M.:

In the cool night air, the stolen Harley took the
turnoff curve at a forty-five-degree angle. Under the chrome-plated
Kaiser Willie helmet, Snake’s eyes glowed.

Soon now, he thought. Four or five more miles and
he’d fuckin’ be there. Right on!

Coming off the expressway, he laughed out loud and
opened up. The engine’s snap and growl rose to a roaring crescendo,
and the tach and speedometer needles climbed steadily. He could
feel the wind pushing back at him like an invisible fist as the
machine surged forward.

Live to ride an’ ride to live—that’s the motto, bro.
That’s what it’s all about.

The high beam stabbed ahead into the darkness. Set
far back in the trees on either side of the two-lane road, some of
the biggest houses he’d ever seen were aglow with lights.

Who’d ever have thought it? A Satan’s fuckin’
Warrior out in the rich-ass fuckin’ Hamptons. All
right!

On a straight stretch, an oncoming pair of
headlights switched from high beam to low, then flicked to high
again to signal him to switch his down.

He grinned to himself and narrowed his lids. Fuck
you, citizen.

The car flashed its beams again.

“
All right, motherfucker!” Snake
hissed quietly. “You wanna push it? You wanna play chicken?”
Abruptly banking the bike into the oncoming lane, he headed
straight on a collision course with the car.

The distance closed rapidly; it was as if he was
hurtling into twin suns at supersonic speed. The horn blared and
the car swerved wildly just in time.

Snake caught a glimpse of a frightened white face in
his headlights and then the Saab flashed past, hitting him with its
warm air stream.

He grinned again as he banked back into his own
lane. All
right!
He was king of the road, lord of the miles.
Flying above the asphalt, his steed leaping from between his legs
like a massive iron cock.

Southampton village was coming up. The houses were
set closer together now; then expensive boutiques suddenly lined
both sides of the lamplit street. The 1200 CC’s of Milwaukee-made
engine shattered the quiet.