substance?"
"I think I told him that hashish would be easiest to manage, and probably reasonably available in the Miami area."
"Everything you ever heard of is available in Dade County. But he couldn't get much with two hundred dollars."
"That's all he had?"
"Anne gave out that figure, and she kept the accounts."
"I have the feeling that Ellis Esterland could put his hands on money in one form or another without Anne knowing about it."
"Okay, suppose he was carrying five thousand dollars. If Anne had known that and reported it, the local authorities would have been thinking about a buy that went wrong. There could have been contacts they could have developed. In his condition, at that point in the progression of the disease, how much pain do you think he should have been feeling?"
He thought it over. "Enough to send me running for the needle, whimpering all the way."
The big bride rolled over, clawing the towel off her head, looking blankly and stupidly at the two of us. One nipple showed above the edge of her white bikini top. Prescott Mullen, smiling, reached down and tugged the fabric up to cover her. A few tendrils of russet hair curled out Page 25
from under the bikini bottom.
"Whassa time, sweetie?" she asked in a small sweet voice.
"Three fifteen, lambikin. This is Travis McGee. My wife, Marcie Jean Mullen."
"Oh, hi," she said. She prodded her pink thigh with an index finger as she sat up, watching how long the white mark lasted. "Honeybun, I better get the hell off the beach. I think the sun kind of reflects in under the umbrella from the sand and sun and stuff." She stood up, yawned, swayed, and then lost her balance when she bent to pick up her towel. She yawned again. "Marcie Jean Mullen. Still sounds strange, huh?" She beamed sleepily at me. "Used to be Marcie Jean Sensabaugh. Hated every minute of it. Be a rotten world if you had to keep the name you were born with." She picked up her canvas bag and looked inside. "I got a key, honeybun. See ya in the room."
"Pretty lady," I said when she was out of earshot. "Congratulations."
"Thanks. She's a great girl. Absolutely perfect disposition. No neuroses. Healthy as the Green Bay Packers. And an absolutely fantastic pelvic structure. She was a delivery-room nurse."
"That's interesting."
"We've talked it over. We want as many kids as we can have. She's twenty-three and I'm thirty-six, and as near as we can tell, she's two months pregnant right now. We agreed not to get married until we were sure we could have kids. I don't want her to have them too close together.
It wears a woman out too much. They should be two years apart. Okay, she'll be twenty-four when our first one is born. Her mother had her last baby when she was forty-four. So, with a two-year spacing, we could have nine or ten. Of course, her mother had one set of twins."
"It's nice to see people get their lives all worked out."
"I always wanted a big family. It was a case of finding the right girl before I got too old to enjoy the kids. As it is, if we stay on schedule, the last kid won't get out of college until I'm about seventy-eight."
"That's cutting it pretty close, doctor."
"I guess it is. But I come of long-lived stock. Both of my grandfathers and one of my grandmothers are still living. Late seventies and early eighties."
"It's something to look forward to, all right."
"I think of it as a very precious responsibility. It's really the only immortality we have. Did you ever think of that?"
"I guess I think of it all the time."
"Are you married?"
"No."
"Then you better find a healthy woman right away, Mr. McGee. Or you won't be young enough to enjoy your kids."
I stood up and shook hands with him. "Thanks a lot. That's probably a very good idea. Nice to have had this chat with you, doctor."
"If I can be of any help, please call on me. Funny thing. Ellis was dying and I didn't particularly like the man, but it made me furious that somebody had the gall to kill him. My
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