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Authors: Gregory McDonald
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Thomas’ death. I think it drove Charley off the deep end. He didn’t see Thomas die, so he doesn’t believe Thomas died.”
“Who is Francine?”
“Thomas’ sister. She lives in New York. She and Thomas were always extremely close.”
“Mrs. Bradley, how do you explain the memos I saw from your husband?”
“If you saw such memos, Mister Fletcher, then they wereforgeries. Obviously, Charles Blaine forged them. What else am I to think? Once or twice, Charley has referred to Thomas as alive, in speaking to me. You know, referred to Thomas in the present tense. I thought his tongue was just slipping. Then, when I saw your article … Wednesday night … I figured it out. Charley must be having some sort of a nervous breakdown. Thursday morning I told Charley, as forcefully as I could, that Thomas is dead and has been dead for a year. Then I sent him and his wife away for a long vacation.”
“Mexico.”
“Is that where they went? Oh, yes, I think they’ve gone to Mexico before for their vacations. We’ll just have to see how he is when he comes back. If he really went so far as forgery … I don’t know. You don’t have any copies of those memos, do you, Mister Fletcher?”
“No.”
“Well. You see. I haven’t known what to do. It’s all been very difficult.”
“Do you intend to continue running the company, Mrs. Bradley?”
“No! Thank God.” She appeared horrified at the thought.
“Are you selling out?”
“No. That wouldn’t be fair to the children. No, Francine is coming West to take over the company, as soon as she can settle up her own business in New York. She’s much cleverer than I. As I said, she and Thomas were very much alike. It’s almost as if they had the same mind. She’s run businesses before.” Enid Bradley looked absently across the room. “She should be able to come West in a couple of months.”
Fletch said, “I guess I don’t know what to say.”
Enid said, “There is nothing to say. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that the man you were talking to was temporarily deranged. How could you have known that? If you like, I’ll call your managing editor again. Tell him that you and I talked. Tell him about Charley, and how insanely fond he was of my husband …”
“Thank you, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’m famous in the business now for having quoted someone who wasn’t alive at the time. I’ll never live that down.”
“Mister Fletcher, is there anything I can do to help you? Reporters don’t make much money, I know, and now you’ve lost your job. I guess it’s partly our fault. I should have known Charley Blaine was going off the deep end.”
“That’s very nice of you, but no, thanks. It was nice of you to see me, under the circumstances.”
“This is all very distressing.”
Enid Bradley rose and showed Fletch to the door. Neither said another word.
14
“ C O L D B E E R ,” F L E T C H said. “If you’ve got any left.”
The barman at the Nineteenth Hole, the bar of the Southworth Country Club, looked Fletch in the face, obviously considered challenging him, then drew a beer and put it in front of Fletch.
“Thanks,” Fletch smiled. During a tournament weekend there were apt to be many strangers in and out of a golf club.
At the end of the bar near the windows overlooking the greens was a large and noisy group of men dressed casually. Two couples in the room, at tables, were dressed for dinner.
“Pebble Beach,” said one of the noisy men. “Nobody believes what I did at Pebble Beach. Even I don’t believe what I did at Pebble Beach!”
And they said this and they said that and they laughed at almost everything. Fletch sipped his beer.
His glass was nearly empty when one of the men turned to another, a heavily built man wearing bifocals, and said, “Alex, I thought you’d never really get over your bug-a-boo about approaching the seventh green.”
“Well,” Alex smiled. “I did.
“Who is Francine?”
“Thomas’ sister. She lives in New York. She and Thomas were always extremely close.”
“Mrs. Bradley, how do you explain the memos I saw from your husband?”
“If you saw such memos, Mister Fletcher, then they wereforgeries. Obviously, Charles Blaine forged them. What else am I to think? Once or twice, Charley has referred to Thomas as alive, in speaking to me. You know, referred to Thomas in the present tense. I thought his tongue was just slipping. Then, when I saw your article … Wednesday night … I figured it out. Charley must be having some sort of a nervous breakdown. Thursday morning I told Charley, as forcefully as I could, that Thomas is dead and has been dead for a year. Then I sent him and his wife away for a long vacation.”
“Mexico.”
“Is that where they went? Oh, yes, I think they’ve gone to Mexico before for their vacations. We’ll just have to see how he is when he comes back. If he really went so far as forgery … I don’t know. You don’t have any copies of those memos, do you, Mister Fletcher?”
“No.”
“Well. You see. I haven’t known what to do. It’s all been very difficult.”
“Do you intend to continue running the company, Mrs. Bradley?”
“No! Thank God.” She appeared horrified at the thought.
“Are you selling out?”
“No. That wouldn’t be fair to the children. No, Francine is coming West to take over the company, as soon as she can settle up her own business in New York. She’s much cleverer than I. As I said, she and Thomas were very much alike. It’s almost as if they had the same mind. She’s run businesses before.” Enid Bradley looked absently across the room. “She should be able to come West in a couple of months.”
Fletch said, “I guess I don’t know what to say.”
Enid said, “There is nothing to say. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that the man you were talking to was temporarily deranged. How could you have known that? If you like, I’ll call your managing editor again. Tell him that you and I talked. Tell him about Charley, and how insanely fond he was of my husband …”
“Thank you, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’m famous in the business now for having quoted someone who wasn’t alive at the time. I’ll never live that down.”
“Mister Fletcher, is there anything I can do to help you? Reporters don’t make much money, I know, and now you’ve lost your job. I guess it’s partly our fault. I should have known Charley Blaine was going off the deep end.”
“That’s very nice of you, but no, thanks. It was nice of you to see me, under the circumstances.”
“This is all very distressing.”
Enid Bradley rose and showed Fletch to the door. Neither said another word.
14
“ C O L D B E E R ,” F L E T C H said. “If you’ve got any left.”
The barman at the Nineteenth Hole, the bar of the Southworth Country Club, looked Fletch in the face, obviously considered challenging him, then drew a beer and put it in front of Fletch.
“Thanks,” Fletch smiled. During a tournament weekend there were apt to be many strangers in and out of a golf club.
At the end of the bar near the windows overlooking the greens was a large and noisy group of men dressed casually. Two couples in the room, at tables, were dressed for dinner.
“Pebble Beach,” said one of the noisy men. “Nobody believes what I did at Pebble Beach. Even I don’t believe what I did at Pebble Beach!”
And they said this and they said that and they laughed at almost everything. Fletch sipped his beer.
His glass was nearly empty when one of the men turned to another, a heavily built man wearing bifocals, and said, “Alex, I thought you’d never really get over your bug-a-boo about approaching the seventh green.”
“Well,” Alex smiled. “I did.
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