The Devil's Cook

7

“Hello, Fanny,” said Jay. “I was hoping to see you.”

“Were you?” said Fanny skeptically. “Why?”

“Well, I was pretty rude to you this morning. I want to apologize.”

“However rude you were,” Farley said, “it probably wasn’t rude enough. When you learn what this femme has been up to, you may want to insult her some more.”

“What have you been up to, Fanny?”

“Go on, Fanny,” Farley said. “Tell him what you’ve been up to.”

“I went down to the Journal office and inquired about the Personal. I wanted, if possible, to know who placed it.”

“Oh? Did you learn anything?”

“Nothing. The Personal was mailed in with the fee — in cash — enclosed.”

“Too bad you went to so much trouble for nothing.” Jay seemed surprisingly docile about the episode. “I told you last night the Personal was a coincidence, not directed to Terry at all. Didn’t you remember?”

“I remembered, but I didn’t believe it. And nothing’s developed, so far as I can see, to make me believe it now.”

“You see?” said Farley. “She simply will not mind her own business.”

“To be fair, I can’t say I blame her for being concerned. I’m really not so indifferent as I seem.” Jay, although he spoke without urgency, was clearly appealing for Fanny’s understanding. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been cudgeling my brain over this ever since last night, and I think I’ve finally come up with the answer. I owe you an explanation for all your worry and trouble. If you’d care to come in—”

“I accept both your apology and your invitation,” said Fanny. “Farley, go get your breakfast, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Not much,” Farley said. “If Jay’s going to explain something, I want to hear it, too.”

Jay unlocked his door and they all went in. He was carrying a briefcase, which he took into the bedroom while Fanny and Farley helped themselves to chairs.

“May I get you a drink?” Jay said, returning.

“Not for me,” Farley said. “My stomach’s empty.”

“Nor me,” said Fanny. “I had a martini with my lunch, and I can’t have any more until five o’clock. Where do you think Terry has gone? I’m dying to know.”

“I think she’s gone back to Los Angeles.”

“Back to Los Angeles?” said Fanny. “Is that where, she came from?”

“Yes. Didn’t you know? Actually, we were married in San Francisco. I had a job at the university there, and Terry had moved up from L.A. and was living alone in an apartment. Not attending the university, you understand. She just wanted to try living in San Francisco for a while. New experience. Terry was always keen for a new experience. Anyhow, we met at a party and got married. I don’t quite understand why. I went head over heels for her, of course, but somehow I never felt that I was the type to make Terry reciprocate. Perhaps she just had an urge to try the academic life.”

“But why would she run off to Los Angeles without a word to you or anyone else? If you ask me, it makes no sense.”

“It makes Terry’s kind of sense. If you knew her better, you’d understand that. She is perfectly capable of doing on impulse something that someone else would plan carefully.”

“Even after inviting Farley to dinner?”

“That would be no deterrent to Terry. She was probably halfway to L.A. before she even remembered it.”

“What about luggage?” Fanny pounced on the thought triumphantly. “Did she take any?”

“Apparently not. But it’s no more than two hours from here to L.A. by jet, and after she was there, she could easily prevail on Feldman to supply anything she needed.”

“Feldman?” Farley said. “Who’s Feldman?”

“Yes, Jay,” said Fanny, “please don’t just throw in new characters. It’s very confusing.”

“Maurice Feldman, an attorney. To be exact, he’s the executor of an estate left to Terry by her father, who was a minor movie executive.”

“You mean Terry is an heiress? I didn’t dream of such a thing!”

“Well, we didn’t talk about it much. It’s a pretty large estate, I think, but Terry won’t get control of it until she’s twenty-six, which will be about a year from now. Meanwhile Feldman doles out a limited allowance from the interest on the principal.”

“Why would Terry’s father want to tie things up that way?”

“Need you ask?” Jay shrugged. He fished in a pocket for cigarette and matches and, having found them, did nothing further about them. “Surely it’s evident by this time that a sense of responsibility is not one of Terry’s attributes. Her father didn’t want to cut her off, but he hoped a delay would bring a little more maturity. Wishful thinking, I’m afraid.”

Fanny rose, took the cigarette and matches from Jay’s hands, lit the former with one of the latter, and sat down again.

“Since you are not going to smoke this,” she said, “I may as well. I must say, Jay, I’m not completely convinced. Is there any particular reason why Terry should suddenly have decided to go back to Los Angeles?”

“She was always threatening to. She didn’t want to come to Handclasp in the first place. She was never happy here. If the offer by the university hadn’t been so attractive, I’d probably have stayed in Frisco.”

“If she’s gone back to Los Angeles, it should be easy to check. As you say, she’d certainly get in touch with this Mr. Feldman, because of the allowance and all. Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“I intend to, this evening.”

“Why don’t you call him now?”

“No. I’ve decided to wait a little longer.”

“There you are, Fanny,” Farley said. “I hope you’re satisfied and will stop making a nuisance of yourself.”

Fanny’s retort, which was on the tip of her tongue, was stymied by a knock on the door. Her first thought was that here was Terry, home from the wars. But, on second thought, it would be ridiculous for Terry to knock on her own door. On the other hand, she might consider it wise, under the circumstances, to throw in her hat before entering.

It was not Terry at all, of course, but Otis Bowers.

“Hello, Otis,” Jay said. “What can I do for you?”

“I wonder,” said Otis, “if I could borrow some matches. I seem to be out.”

“Sure.” Jay stepped back, giving Otis a clear view of Fanny and Farley, whom Otis had been trying to see around Jay’s shoulder. “Come on in.”

Otis came in. Jay headed for the kitchen, where the matches were.

“Hello, Fanny, Farley,” Otis said. “I just knocked on your door, Fanny, but I couldn’t raise you.”

“Obviously,” said Fanny, “since I am here and not there. What are you looking for, Otis?”

Otis’s head, which had been turning this way and that, suddenly assumed a fixity, eyes front, as if he were afraid of the consequences of turning it at all.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. I just came to borrow some matches.”

“I thought maybe you were looking for Terry. If you were, you can quit. She isn’t here.”

“Little sister,” Farley said, “why don’t you shut up? If Jay wants a mouthpiece, I’m sure he’ll ask for one.”

“Well, what’s the matter with you, Farley?” Fanny said indignantly. “What’s the harm, I’d like to know, in telling Otis that Terry isn’t here when he can plainly see for himself that she isn’t? I don’t understand your attitude at all.”

“Oh, I give up!” said Farley. “By God, I do!”

“What’s all the fuss about?” Otis said. “Didn’t Terry get home last night?”

“No,” Farley said, “she didn’t.”

“Jay thinks she went to Los Angeles,” Fanny said. “Isn’t that so, Jay?”

“Yes.” Jay, having completed his round trip to the kitchen, handed Otis half a dozen matchbooks.

“But why Los Angeles?” Otis said.

“We’ve been all over that,” said Fanny. “If you want to know things, Otis, why don’t you get in at the beginning?”

“Never mind,” Jay said. “There’s no point in dwelling on the matter. Otis, I believe there’s enough matches there to last until you can get more.”

“Yes. Yes, this is plenty, Jay. Thanks very much.”

Jay, when he had come away from the door after admitting Otis, had left it open, possibly as a hint to his guests, but the effect, unfortunately, was only to gather another. Otis, on his way out, was suddenly face to face with his wife. Ardis had appeared on the threshold and was nosing into the room.

“Otis,” she said, “what are you doing down here? I thought you were just going across the hall to borrow some matches from Fanny.”

“Fanny isn’t home,” Otis said.

“As you see,” said Fanny.

“Did you get some matches?”

“Yes. Jay loaned me some.”

“Then we had better go back upstairs.” Ardis leaned forward into the room and craned, like her husband before her, this way and that. “Where’s Terry? Didn’t she come back last night?”

It was evident from her tone that she considered it Jay’s good luck if Terry hadn’t. Jay obliged woodenly by confirming her hopes.

“Jay thinks she’s in Los Angeles,” said Fanny.

“Los Angeles! Whatever for?”

“There are good reasons,” said Fanny, “that are too involved to relate.”

“Is that so?” Ardis shifted a sweetly venomous stare from Fanny to Jay. “Even if there are, I’d look closer to home before leaping all the way to Los Angeles. As I have good reason to know. Even, next door or upstairs is not too close for Terry’s operations. Jay, have you asked Brian O’Hara if he knows where she is?”

Otis was pink and Jay was white and Farley was red, but Fanny was mostly interested.

“What the hell do you mean by ‘next door’?” Farley said.

“What I would like to know,” said Fanny, “is what she means by ‘Brian O’Hara.’ Jay, what does she mean?”

“Shut up, Fan!” Farley said. “For God’s sake, shut up!”

“Brian O’Hara,” Jay said stiffly, “is a local and lesser version of Arnold Rothstein. He is a gambler who specializes in collegiate athletic contests. He owns a couple of night spots geared for college students. He is reputed to be honest by his own liberal standards. I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, I know who he is, of course,” Fanny said. “What I mean is, what does he have to do with Terry?”

“Ardis is trying to tell me,” Jay said, “that Terry and O’Hara have been seen together under suggestive circumstances. Thanks, Ardis, but I already knew.”

“Well, you may have known, but I didn’t,” said Fanny. “Did you know, Farley? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m no damn scandal-monger, that’s why,” Farley said. “Besides, it’s incredible that you hadn’t found out. It’s a miracle.”

“It’s evident that I’ve said too much,” Ardis sniffed. “I was only trying to be helpful. Come along, Otis!”

She marched away, Otis trailing. Passing through the doorway, he cast a glance backward.

“Jay, thanks for the matches,” Otis said miserably.

“You’re welcome,” Jay said.

When they were gone, Farley rose and turned immediately to Fanny with grim decision, as if he were prepared to do violence if necessary.

“You, too, Fan. Stand up. Let’s leave Jay alone.”

“Surely.” Fanny stood up as ordered. “You are quite right for a change, Farley. I must say, too, that you were quite right in the hall upstairs last night. I am always inclined to see the good in a person instead of the bad, but that Ardis is a bitch.”