Unknown - Charity Ball

“The games the rich do play-”

“See. I know that all the stuff you write there in your books is not strictly fiction. Cause I’ve seen it myself.”

“Do you want to hear my situation? Or do you want me to continue to pay you to be my personal literary critic?”

“Either way. I’m game.”

“Pearls are a nuisance.”

“I heard that one before.”

“If the plot is jaded, Griffith, I’m sure that the money is not.”

“Correct. Shoot.”

“The pearls in question were to have been included among the pieces to be auctioned as part of a charity ball I am organizing.”

“Oh, really. Socially concerned, are you?”

“That’s neither here nor there. I tell you quite frankly that I am hosting this ball in order to clear my name-so to speak.”

“Now this is interesting. Have anything to do with your married life?”

“Mister Griffith-I mean Poindexter. Gruff. Shit-I let it slip. Please pardon me, Griffith, while I blush.”

“You’re too much.”

“So of course you know about Arturo.”

“Claims he should be King of Spain.”

“Cuban, isn’t he?”

“Wasn’t sure you knew.”

“I do.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have said those last two words so often.”

“I married Arturo because of young love. I didn’t care whether he was royalty.

I have my own money and I did not particularly care to hear about his. It was there.”

“Didn’t you wonder how he got it?”

“Not at first. You know all fortunes are first gained through ruthless amorality. Sometimes such activities may be sanctioned as acts of war. But exploitation is part of the heritage of wealth.”

“Like the nobleman’s private game preserve. The master may pillage wildlife indiscriminately as he pleases. But if you are a hungry peasant-no dice.

Poaching shall be punished by death. Like the street gangs. Protecting their turf.”

“I’m sure getting my money’s worth from this discussion. However, Mister Griffith, what do you know about pearls?”

“They’re for girls.”

“You know how they can be faked?”

“Porcelain. Bone china with special glaze. Places in Belgium and East Germany used to do the best duplicating jobs. Now some Swiss and British contacts are first-rate.”

“Hmmmmm.”

“Okay. Yours are taken and you weren’t sure they were real anyway. How the insurance reads is actually the more important factor-”

“Ah, let’s see. t may have only misplaced them. But once they’re recovered, I think they should be kept under guard.”

“If they weren’t stolen-why now?”

Constance was silent a split second too long.

“Let me help you,” Griffith said. “You want to maybe let on to the press that they’re valuable. Tell them how the pearls were recovered and how it was so upsetting that they were lost. Nice little column in the newspaper with a nice big picture of you with the black bangles hanging over your boobs. Draw some big spenders to the charity ball. Am I okay so far-or am I off the wall?”

“I haven’t announced yet that I’m planning to auction them. I only thought of it, in fact, early this morning. I went to look for them. They were not where I normally keep them-among my lingerie, as I am sure you’d ask anyway. I crashed about for about twenty minutes trying to locate them. Then I asked Morrigana to ring up your office.”

“Why me?”

“I knew you were already somewhat familiar with my affairs through your work for Arturo Mondragon during the negotiations for our divorce.”

“Figured you knew that one.”

“Since you did such outstanding work peeping on me, I thought you might do the same good deeds spying in my service.”

“Tough lady.”

“I use only the best. Whether it’s champagne, bodycream, or private Ds.”

“Smart lady.”

“It’s simple logic. Only the best works best for me. What’s that look, Griffith? I assure you that the pearls are not in their usual place. Stolen?

Misplaced? That’s what you’re here for.”

“Who’s this Morrigana?”

“She met you at the door, I believe.”

“Your-uh-maid?”

“Secretary. Though I shouldn’t call her that- she’s much more. Morrigana helps me put my books together. Helps me a Lot in other ways too. When I’m out here at Charity House I try to get along without any servants unless I have a larger formal gathering. They’re so much work to managing servants by yourself that they’re sometimes hardly worth the trouble at all.”

“Until you want to empty the garbage or make the bed. So why do you keep the marbles out here? Kinda wide open spaces, no one around-”

“Because that particular set of pearls is not really that valuable.

Monetarily.”

“You mean besides that they might be fakeroonskies.”

“The pearls are heirlooms. They’re black. Way out of current fashion.

Supposedly brought from Europe with the bride of a great-uncle. But that’s hearsay. There are one hundred sixty-seven of them-relatively small, but evenly matched in size and blue-black coloration-on one strand with a lock-type closure in platinum. Simple. Elegant.”

“I see. So the butler didn’t do it cause there’s no butler.”

“You don’t think Morrigana-”

“She’s gotta be covered. And I tell you I have to do it straight. You can warn her first that I’m gonna question her, but don’t let her escape, babe. Hate to do it, but I have to chat her up. Who else you got running around here?”

“Veronica Van Damme. I know her through my fund-raising work on behalf of international athletics. She’s a synchronized swimmer and diver in the combined watersports events.”

“Veronica? Did I hear of her? Win any medals? Or is that someone else?”

“Not the Olympics-yet. But she’s won a lot of other titles. As a swimsuit model she’s been on the covers of quite a few magazines-though perhaps not any that you might lead. She’s highstrung, but I’ve found her to be a simply delightful girl.”

“And it shall be delightful I am sure to converse with her-relative to the perhaps-purloined string of shiny ballocks. Who else? Maintenance personnel?”

“Boy comes by for the pool three times a week. Gardener once a week.

Deliveries-but none of the above ever get in past the door.”

“That you know of. Maybe they cased the joint.”

“I thought of that. I have no servants, but I do have the place electronically protected.”

“But on the other hand, you don’t want to think it’s an inside job. I understand. But I gotta do my job.”

“Who do you want to start with?”

“Who’s closest?”

“Morrigana?”

“Yes, Constance?”

“This is Mister Poindexter. Griffith. I believe you two have met?”

Morrigana leaned back from the computer monitor and keyboard. A set of tight tits started up underneath the sheer blousing that covered from high about the neck down to her ankles.

“Sorry,” Morrigana said. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying.”

She pulled the earphones from her ears. Made sure the audiocassette filled with Constance’s morning musings was on hold.

She took in Griffith’s gaze boldly.

Coldly.

Her toes twitched.

She mechanically dangled a pair of slipper sandals laced in gold piping.

Crossed her ankles.

“I don’t know what I should say, Morrigana. But there has been a disappearance here-as you know-about the pearls-uh-”

“I understand,” Morrigana said. “Griffith wants to talk to me about it.”

“Enough said,” Constance sighed. “I’ll be outside. On the sundeck.”

As Constance left, she left the door to the study open wide.