“What are you talking about? If you’d taken my advice and not sued Dattila none of this would have happened!”

But Herbie had already hung up.

54

Willa walked up the curving staircase with Daltry holding her hand.

“I think you’ll like my living quarters,” he was saying.

They emerged into a handsomely furnished living room with cream-colored paneled walls, crown moldings and many pictures and sculptures.

He led her to the bar and was pouring them a drink when the phone rang. Daltry looked at the instrument on the bar and muttered something under his breath. “Excuse me,” he said, “I’ve got to take this call.” He picked up the phone. “What is it?” he said without preamble, then he listened for a moment. “Jerry, I’ve told you repeatedly how important it is for you to stay where you are and not go out for a while. You’ve got enough groceries to last a month, and enough to drink, too.” He listened some more. “I don’t care. I want you to do as I say, or I won’t be able to protect you. Don’t you understand?” More listening. “Jerry, do you want to go to prison? I didn’t think so. Well, that’s the alternative to doing as I say, at least for a little while. Look, I’ve got somebody here at the moment. I’ll come up there tomorrow morning, and we’ll work something out. I promise.” He hung up.

“Some people never listen,” Willa said.

“You’re right about that. I have this friend who’s gotten himself into a jam, and I’m trying to help him, but he just won’t be helped. Will you pour us a drink? I need the powder room.”

“Of course.” Willa filled two glasses with ice and made to pour. The moment Daltry was out of sight she checked the many buttons on the phone and found one that read “Log.” She pressed it. “Bernstein, did you hear that conversation?” she whispered.

“Every word.”

“Write down this number.” She read it out to him. “It appears four other times today in his phone log.”

“I’ll check it out.”

She pressed the button again, and the log disappeared, then she poured the drinks.

Daltry came back from the john and picked up his drink. “To an interesting future,” he said. They drank, and he snaked an arm around her waist.

She let him kiss her, helping out a bit. “What time is it?” she asked, when they broke.

“Who cares? The night is young.”

She looked at her watch. “I’m afraid it’s not all that young, and I have an eight o’clock meeting tomorrow morning that I have to do some reading for.” She danced lightly away from his grasp. “Can we continue this another evening soon?”