Daddy's Gone a Hunting

12

Doug Connelly was not sure where he wanted to go after he dropped Hannah off. When she got out of the cab, it had pulled away from the curb and now the cabbie was asking, “Where to, sir?”

All Doug wanted was to go home and get a couple of aspirin and some coffee, but he wondered if he shouldn’t go out to Long Island City to see the damage for himself. Would it seem strange for the owner not to show up when there was such a massive fire?

On the other hand, it would be better to go home and call for his own car. Or maybe he didn’t really have to go right away, or at all. He gave the cabbie his address on East Eighty-second Street, then leaned back and closed his eyes. He was trying to calculate the appropriate move to make next.

Was it clear that the fire was deliberately set? Did it look as if Kate teamed up with Gus to set it? And did something go wrong and it went off too soon, before they could escape? Five years ago, when we made Gus retire, he was mighty nasty about it. The girls were always friendly with him. It wouldn’t be impossible to make a case that he got her help to set some sort of explosion and then it went off sooner than they planned.

But where would that leave the insurance payout? If the insurance company can prove arson by a disgruntled member of the family, would that be an excuse for the insurance company not to pay? Sure the land is valuable, but there is a $20 million policy on the antiques alone.

Well, no one could ever say I had anything to do with it. Doug took refuge in the knowledge that he had had too much to drink last night and plenty of witnesses to prove it. He vaguely remembered that Bernard, his driver, had helped him out of the car and that Danny, the elevator operator, had taken him into the apartment and made him lie down on the couch. If it came to that, they would testify about his condition and the all-night doorman would swear that he never left the building.

At least I’m in the clear, Doug comforted himself. If necessary we can start building a case against Gus. Especially if Kate doesn’t pull through, he thought. But then he was ashamed to even consider that possibility.

The cab finally reached the door of his apartment building. The fare had come to twenty-two dollars. Doug peeled off two twenties from the bills in his wallet and shoved them into the opening between the front and back sections of the cab. “Keep the change.”

That was something else that drove Kate crazy, he thought. “Dad, why do you find it necessary to give tips that are practically the price of the ride? If you think you’re making a big impression, you’re wrong.”

Was it only last night that Kate had a sour look when he ordered the champagne? Seems like years ago. Ralph, the day doorman, was holding the door open for him. When he got out, the man’s first question was, “How is your daughter, Mr. Connelly?”

The disapproving look on Kate’s face from the night before was in Doug Connelly’s mind when he said, “It’s too soon to tell.”

“There’s a young lady waiting for you in the lobby, sir. She’s been here for an hour.”

“A young lady?” Startled, Doug walked swiftly to the door of the building. Just as swiftly Ralph was there to hold it open for him. Sandra was sitting upright on one of the armless canvas chairs in the modernistic lobby. She jumped up when she saw him.

“Oh, Doug. I’m so sorry. You must be in agony. How awful for you!”

“Ah, the beauty queen tears herself away from Majestic,” Doug said. But then, as her hands reached out to massage his fingers and she kissed his cheek, the demons in his head began to retreat. Sandra was another witness as to where he was last night. He’d go over to the complex tomorrow, or the next day, or never… I don’t want to see it, he thought.

He put his hand under her arm. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said.