Sidney Sheldon - Windmills Of The Gods

Lantz watched as she poured a drink and downed it. She’s the most ugly, repulsive pig I’ve ever met, he thought, but the million dollars is going to be beautiful.

Lantz walked over to her and put his arms around her huge, flabby waist. “You’re cute, do you know that?”

“Wha’?” Her eyes were glazed.

He was getting nowhere. He had to think of an approach that would get this amazon into bed. But he knew he had to make his move carefully. If he offended her, she might report him to Angel, and that would be the end of the deal.

As Lantz was desperately trying to think of a clever gambit Neusa mumbled, “Come on ‘n the bedroom.”

He grinned in relief. “That’s a great idea, baby.”

She stumbled as Lantz followed her into the small bedroom. In it was a large unmade bed and a bureau with a cracked mirror above it. It was the open closet that caught Harry Lantz’s attention. He glimpsed a row of men’s suits hanging on a rack.

He went into the bathroom to undress, and when he returned, Neusa was propped up in bed like a leviathan. He sat down beside her. She was drunker than he had thought. Th:It’s good, he said to himself. It will make things easier. “You’re a very pretty woman, honI like you a lot.” He began to caress her. “I’ll bet you live an exciting life being Angel’s girlfriend. That must be really interesting. Tell me, baby, What’s Angel like?”

There was a silence, and he wondered if Neusa had fallen asleep. “Don’t go to sleep, sweetheart. Not yet.” He felt her stir. “What kind of man is Angel? Is he handsome?”

“Rich. Angel, he’s rich.”

Lantz continued to caress her. “Who are his friends?”

Her voice was drowsy. “Angel got no fren’s. I’m his fren’.”

Neusa closed her eyes. “Hey, I’m sleepy. Let’s go to sleep.”

Lantz stayed there quietly until he was certain Neusa was asleep. Then he carefully arose from the bed, padded over to the closet, and switched on the closet light.

There were a dozen suits hanging on the rack and six pairs of men’s shoes on the floor. Lantz opened the jackets and examined the labels. The suits were all custom-made by Heffera, Avenida la Plata. I’ve hit the jackpot! Lantz gloated. They’ll have a record of Angel’s address. I’ll go and ask a few questions. Then all I have to do is tip off my friends in Mossad and collect the reward.

Lantz thought he heard a sound from across the room. He quickly turned out the closet light and walked over to the bed. Neusa’s eyes were closed, ‘and she was snoring lightly. He tiptoed to the bureau and began looking through the drawers, hoping to find a photograph of Angel. No luck. He crept back to bed.

WHEN Harry Lantz awoke in the morning, he heard Neusa singing off key in the bathroom.

She was standing in front of the mirror. Her hair was done up in fat curlers, and she looked, if possible, even more unattractive than before. She pointed to the bathtub full of water. “I fix a bath for you. When you’re finish’, I fix breakfast.”

“Sounds great,” he lied.

“You like omelets? I make good omelets. Angel teach me.”

Neusa plugged in an electric hair dryer and began to dry her hair.

Lantz stepped into the bathtub and lay back in the warm water, thinking, Maybe I should get a gun and take Angel myself. If I let the Israelis do it, there’ll probably be an inquiry into who gets the reward. This way there won’t be any question. I’ll just tell them where to pick up his body.

Neusa said something, but Harry Lantz could barely hear her over the roar of the hair dryer.

“What did you say?” he called out.

“I got a presen’ for you from Angel.”

She dropped the electric hair dryer into the water and stood there watching as Lantz’s body twitched in a dance of death.

PRESIDENT PAUL ELLISON looked down at the last security report on Mary Ashley and said, “Not a blemish, Stan.”

“I know. I think she’s the perfect candidate. Of course, State isn’t going to be happy.”

“We’ll send them a crying towel. Now Let’s hope the Senate will back us up. Would you like another drink, Stan?”

“No, thanks. Unless you need me tonight, I’m taking Barbara to an opening at the Kennedy Center.”

“You go ahead,” Paul Ellison said. “Alice and I are due to entertain some relatives of hers.”

“Please give my love to Alice,” Stanton Rogers said. He rose.

“And you give mine to Barbara.”

Chapter Four

MARY Ashley’s nerves were on edge during dinner. The children were being impossible again. Beth refused to touch her food.

“No one eats meat anymore,” Beth insisted. “It’s a barbaric custom carriedover from the cavernan. Civilized people don’t eat live animals.”

. “It’s not alive,” Tim argued. “It’s dead, so you might as well eat it.”

“Children! Quiet. Beth, go make yourself a salad.”

“She could go graze in the field,” Tim offered.

“Tim! Finish your dinner.” Mary’s head was pounding.

The telephone rang.

“That’s for me,” Beth said. She leaped out of her chair and raced toward the telephone. She picked it up and said flirtatiously, “Virgil?” She listened a moment, and her expression changed. “Oh, sure,” she said disgustedly. She slammed down the receiv&r and returned to the table.

“What was that all about?” Edward asked.

“Some joker. said it was the White House calling Mom.”

“The White House?”

The telephone rang again.

“I’ll get it.” Mary rose and walked over to the telephone. “Hello.” As she listened, her face grew grim. “We’re in the middle of dinner, and I don’t think this is funny-What? Who?

The President?” There was a hush in the room. “Wait, I-Oh, good evening, Mr. President.” There was a dazed expression on her face. Her family was watching her, wide-eyed. “Yes, sir. I do. I recognize your voice. H’m sorry about hanging up a moment ago. Beth thought it was Virgil, and-Yes, sir. Thank you.” She stood there listening. “Would I be willing to serve as what?” Her face suddenly flushed.

Edward was on his feet, moving toward the phone, the children close behind him.

“There must be some mistake, Mr. President. My name is Mary Ashley. I’m a professor at Kansas State University, and-You read it? Thank you, sir.” She listened for a long time. “Yes, sir. I agree. But that doesn’t mean that I-Yes, sir. I’m sure It’s a wonderful opportunity, but I-Of course. I will. I’ll talk it over with my husband and get back to you.” She picked up a pen and wrote down a number. “Yes, sir. I have it. Thank you, Mr. President. Goodbye.” She slowly replaced the receiver and stood there in shock.

“What in heaven was that all about?” Edward demanded.

“was it really the President?” Tim asked.

Mary sank into a chair. “Yes. It really was.”

Edward took Mary’s hand in his. “Mary, what did he want?”

Mary sat there, numb, thinking, So That’s why that man was questioning Florence. She looked up at Edward and the children and said slowly, “The President read my book and the article in Foreign Affairs, and he thought they were brilliant. He said That’s the kind of thinking he Wants for his people-to-people program. He wants to nominate me as ambassador to Remania.”

There was a look of total disbelief on Edward’s face. “You?

Why you?”

It was exactly’what Mary had asked herself, but she felt Edward could have been more tactful. He could have said, How wonderfull You’d make a great ambassador.

“You haven’t had any political experience.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Mary responded tartly. “I agree that the whole thing is ridiculous.”