Read Online A Man of Affairs by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John D. MacDonald
Tags: Suspense
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embrace. Then Cam’s thin hand slid down and, deliberately, emotionlessly, callously, he caught a tender roundness of flesh between thumb and finger and pinched and twisted at the same time. Elda Garry went up onto her toes and took a quick half step toward little Bundy, then recovered herself and turned sharply and stared at Cam. He gave her his ugly and amiable smile. It seemed almost possible to hear the little chromed gears meshing in the sleek blond head. She glanced at Guy again, and glanced at Mike Dean as he came into the room in his Basque shirt and black Bermuda shorts, and brought her eyes back to Cam. And added it all up and gave him a pointy little smile and leaned closer and said something half under her breath. In a few minutes Cam came back to us.
“You are a foul rascal,” Amparo said, laughing.
“It’s all real,” Cam said. “And taut as a winter apple. You’re the analyst, Miss Blakely. As soon as she decided not to go up in smoke, what did she say to me?”
Amparo frowned and pursed her lips and looked at the floor for a few moments. “Hmmm. Something like, ‘You are a naughty, naughty man.’ Right?”
He shook his head. “You kill me, Amparo. I wouldn’t have minded a close guess, because it’s pretty obvious the kind of thing she would say. But you hit it precisely on the button, and that almost alarms me.”
“We’re not always like this, Sam,” Amparo said. “Just when we get down here to the island. Then all the shoes come off and the hair is let down.”
“You shook me up with that idea about falsies,” Cam said. “After suggesting a horror like that, I was forced to go check it out. Everybody is empty, and the bar is yonder.”
We went into the play room. I had been hearing the sound of table tennis for several minutes. Tommy McGann was playing with a young girl. She was quick and slim and dark, and her hair was in long braids. She was dark as any gypsy, teeth flashing white in her face, lips painted a burgundy red. She wore a red off-the-shoulder blouse and pink skin-tight pants that came slightly below the knee and were laced with black at the sides.
“Is that the Crown girl?” I asked Amparo.
“That’s Lolly. I envy the resilience of the young, Sam. At three she got so potted I didn’t think she’d be able to find her room. Port was very annoyed with her. And now look at her.”
After we put in the drink order, I turned and watched her. She seemed to be giving Tommy a close battle. Tommy won, twenty-one to sixteen, then Puss McGann and Jack Buck joined them in doubles, Jack and Puss against Tommy and Lolly. Jack Buck was the poorest player, but Puss was, by a considerable margin, the best. When Lolly was not smiling her face had a sullen look. Her young breasts were sharp against the red blouse. Jack Buck had the square face and the yellow brush cut of any Navy recruiting poster. But he did not manage to look like a clean cut young man. He looked like a dogged and somewhat dangerous young man. There was a knife tattooed on his right forearm, with a snake writhing around it. His gray eyes were slightly undersized and there was a hint of brutality around his mouth. I decided that were I Porter Crown, I would not take my rebellious daughter on a prolonged cruise with Jack Buck.
The meal was served buffet style. The food was abundant and excellent. I wound up eating with Bridget, Amparo and Mike Dean at a table in the corner of the living room. Mike Dean ran the conversation like a train. Bridget and Amparo were the straight men. They fed him the right lines at the right times. Mike told the history of his looking around for a hideaway, and all the misadventures before he finally had it the way he wanted it. It was entertainingly told and in spots it was funny as hell. Mike made himself the stupid and innocent victim of all kinds of ludicrous mistakes, including one narrow mistake of nearly building on the wrong island. It was all much fun; and when the meal was
“You are a foul rascal,” Amparo said, laughing.
“It’s all real,” Cam said. “And taut as a winter apple. You’re the analyst, Miss Blakely. As soon as she decided not to go up in smoke, what did she say to me?”
Amparo frowned and pursed her lips and looked at the floor for a few moments. “Hmmm. Something like, ‘You are a naughty, naughty man.’ Right?”
He shook his head. “You kill me, Amparo. I wouldn’t have minded a close guess, because it’s pretty obvious the kind of thing she would say. But you hit it precisely on the button, and that almost alarms me.”
“We’re not always like this, Sam,” Amparo said. “Just when we get down here to the island. Then all the shoes come off and the hair is let down.”
“You shook me up with that idea about falsies,” Cam said. “After suggesting a horror like that, I was forced to go check it out. Everybody is empty, and the bar is yonder.”
We went into the play room. I had been hearing the sound of table tennis for several minutes. Tommy McGann was playing with a young girl. She was quick and slim and dark, and her hair was in long braids. She was dark as any gypsy, teeth flashing white in her face, lips painted a burgundy red. She wore a red off-the-shoulder blouse and pink skin-tight pants that came slightly below the knee and were laced with black at the sides.
“Is that the Crown girl?” I asked Amparo.
“That’s Lolly. I envy the resilience of the young, Sam. At three she got so potted I didn’t think she’d be able to find her room. Port was very annoyed with her. And now look at her.”
After we put in the drink order, I turned and watched her. She seemed to be giving Tommy a close battle. Tommy won, twenty-one to sixteen, then Puss McGann and Jack Buck joined them in doubles, Jack and Puss against Tommy and Lolly. Jack Buck was the poorest player, but Puss was, by a considerable margin, the best. When Lolly was not smiling her face had a sullen look. Her young breasts were sharp against the red blouse. Jack Buck had the square face and the yellow brush cut of any Navy recruiting poster. But he did not manage to look like a clean cut young man. He looked like a dogged and somewhat dangerous young man. There was a knife tattooed on his right forearm, with a snake writhing around it. His gray eyes were slightly undersized and there was a hint of brutality around his mouth. I decided that were I Porter Crown, I would not take my rebellious daughter on a prolonged cruise with Jack Buck.
The meal was served buffet style. The food was abundant and excellent. I wound up eating with Bridget, Amparo and Mike Dean at a table in the corner of the living room. Mike Dean ran the conversation like a train. Bridget and Amparo were the straight men. They fed him the right lines at the right times. Mike told the history of his looking around for a hideaway, and all the misadventures before he finally had it the way he wanted it. It was entertainingly told and in spots it was funny as hell. Mike made himself the stupid and innocent victim of all kinds of ludicrous mistakes, including one narrow mistake of nearly building on the wrong island. It was all much fun; and when the meal was
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