Read Online Madman's Thirst by Lawrence de Maria - Free Book Online Page A

would still be a steal in the year 4000. Of
course, he wouldn’t be prix fixing today. Lunch with Emma, while not a rarity
for Scarne, was always a special occasion. She looked particularly fetching, he
thought, in a blue silk herringbone shirt dress, buttoned down the front and
tied with a fabric belt, and was easily the most attractive woman in the place,
despite stiff competition from some other women whose features were more
conventionally classic. Funny how that worked. Some women had it, and some
didn’t. Emma had it. Her thick auburn hair flowed to her shoulders. Her color
was high. Probably the Gibson, which he noted, was a good sign. Suddenly
feeling churlish, he asked after her daughter.
    “Rebecca’s fine. She’s made a new
friend at school, her ‘best ever’ she says. She’s going over to the girl’s
apartment right after school and staying the night. It’s her first sleepover
and she’s too excited for words. I’m bereft, of course, but it will be nice not
to have to pick her up after school. I know the family. The girl’s mother is
Fanny Van Stolk, a financial writer at the Times . Had a baby a few
months ago and is on maternity leave, though I think she works from home. Becky
can’t wait to play with the baby. Better than a doll. ”
     Emma mentioned the sleepover with
a studied casualness not lost on Scarne, who forgot all about being churlish.
    “And how’s your father?”
    He always asked after the old
bastard, partly out of politeness and partly because he liked to get a rise out
of her. Smiling sweetly, Emma didn’t take the bait.
    “Dad’s fine. In fact, just this
morning he was asking for you. Wanted to know how you were getting along.”
    “He must have fallen off his horse
and hit his head.”
     “I’ll ask you to keep a civil tongue
about Dad.” But she laughed when she said it. “Besides, he doesn’t ride,
anymore.” She added wickedly, “horses, anyway.”
    Their drinks arrived. Emma quickly
finished the dregs of her first Gibson and clinked her new glass with Scarne.
Both took serious swallows.
    “What’s with the rum? Feeling
piratical?”
    “A lot of people don’t know it,
but this stuff is as good as the finest bourbon or brandy. Went to a golf
outing with the Teamsters Union out of Newark Airport a few years back and they
had cases of the stuff. I presume it fell off the back of a truck, but it made
for a hell of an after-dinner drink. Got a taste for it now, before, during and
after dinner.”
    “Why do I suspect Mr. Mack may
have been involved, although he doesn’t strike me as the golfing type.”
    Scarne laughed.
    “Dudley ran the thing. He’s a hell
of a golfer, by the way. Funny thing, it’s the only outing I know where
everyone turns in an honest card.”
    “Probably because cheaters know
they’d wind up in the Meadowlands.”
    Their waiter reappeared and they
ordered.
    “Tell me about the deal you just
cut to ‘save the Shields empire,’ as Business Week and Fortune so
uncharitably put it.”
    “Fuck them,” Emma said, leaning forward
so that only he could hear her. “They’re just jealous. Now we’re really going to
clean their clocks. Only Forbes got it right, because they’re a family
business as well.”
     Might be the Gibsons, Scarne
thought. But perhaps not. He had leaned not to sell her short, in any respect.
She sat back and resumed a more conversational tone, and for the next ten
minutes explained her coup in clear, concise financial terms. She declined
another Gibson, opting for a glass of the house Sauvignon Blanc. Scarne joined
her. In this house it would be excellent.
    The waiter arrived with their
food. After he left, she cut a substantial portion of her squab, speared a
piece of asparagus, and put both in her mouth. Scarne was always amazed by her
appetite. With Emma, lunch was no polite tête a tête over a small salad. She was likely to order a steak. And
the basket of rolls was not safe either. For all that, she remained