Гарольд Роббинс - The Raiders

Jonas took note. "Well. Back to this one. Which one counts?"

"Monogamy is not a Cord family tradition," Bat said curtly.

Even so, the weekend and the Monday commencement were one prolonged confrontation.

Monica seemed interested in only one thing about this son Jonas had suddenly discovered: Was he really producing a television show starring Glenda Grayson of all people? As a magazine editor, she was interested in that. She was also interested in seeing Jonas get laughed at — an interest she was unable to conceal.

Bill Toller was conspicuously out of place and embarrassed. He spent his time trying to find someone who would talk with him and settled finally on Toni. She could talk politics with him and so became a refuge for him.

Monica was annoyed that Jonas had brought Angie. Jonas was glad she was annoyed. Angie was amused.

Jonas told Bat to come to his suite for breakfast at 6:30 on commencement morning. Alone.

"We'll have two breakfasts," said Jonas when Bat sat down at the wheeled table loaded with eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit, and coffee — also with a bottle of bourbon from which Jonas was sipping sparingly. "The whole crowd is getting together at eight."

Bat nodded. He took note that Angie had not come out of the bedroom.

"That girl you've brought with you is first rate," said Jonas. "Toni is first class, in every way I can see and I imagine in some others that only you know about."

"She's very special," said Bat solemnly.

"So, when you gonna marry her?"

"That's none of your business, really; but what would you say if I told you she's not sure she wants to marry a son of Jonas Cord?"

"She doesn't like me?"

"Oh, she likes you fine," said Bat. "But she's not sure she wants a husband whose father dominates his life."

" I dominate your life? I thought you'd declared independence of me, pretty goddamned emphatically. Look. You want out? You want to go back to practicing law? Why not? You're supposed to be good at it."

Bat nodded. "I've thought about it."

"Don't forget something," said Jonas. "You picked up the Jonas Cord way of living pretty damned fast, and you seem to thrive on it. Putting aside some of your expense accounts, do you figure a young lawyer would be humping a big nightclub star ... on the q.t., besides the girl he's supposed —"

"I've made no commitment to Toni. She's made none to me."

"Well, that's too friggin' bad. Anyway — Never mind. This television show. Nobody wants it. No sponsor. Right?"

"We don't know yet."

"Well, when you gonna know?"

"I'm working on it."

"So far, you haven't got a sponsor. Could that be because you don't know fuck about how to build a successful television show? I've dumped more than a million — "

"You dumped seventeen million into the Pacific Ocean off San Diego in 1945," said Bat. "Could that be because you didn't know fuck about how to build an airplane?"

Jonas's face stiffened and reddened for a moment. Then he relaxed and smiled. "You son of a — Look, I want you to make a success of whatever you try. You think I don't?"

Bat hesitated, then said, "You think it's easy being a son of Jonas Cord?"

"No. Don't forget, I was ... the son of the old man. Maybe I'm gaining a new appreciation of my father. It's not easy to be the father of a Jonas Cord either."

"Okay," said Bat. "Nothing good is achieved easy."

Jonas tossed back a gulp of bourbon. "Right. But take a word from me. You say Glenda is no hooker. Well, she's not far from it. Take it easy, mister. Be careful about her."

"Then send her to you, huh?"

Over breakfast and for the rest of the commencement weekend, Bat gave his attention to his little sister. The occasion should have been hers, but she seemed lost in the tangle of antagonisms that dominated the group. He watched her drinking. On what should have been a happy day for her, she wasn't happy, and she was anesthetizing herself with Scotch.

"Where are you going after commencement?" he asked her.

"I am supposed to go to Monica's apartment in New York," she said.

"Use our apartment in the Waldorf Towers," said Bat. "Our father is there only a night or so every two weeks, and I'm there not much more."

"I hear you rented a handsome beach house in California," she said. "Could I move in with you there for a while? I promise to behave."

Bat glanced toward Toni. "How good are you at keeping a secret?" he asked quietly. "You'll have to behave. I'm not living there alone."

Glenda loved the beach house, though she did not love the beach. Her white skin did not tan. It burned. Exposed to the sun, it turned bright red and peeled. Anyway, she didn't want to tan. Her white skin was a part of her persona. She even stayed off the deck when it was hot with sunlight. She wore a bikini around the house, only because she knew Bat liked it.

On a Sunday evening they sat on the deck, in the faint purple-orange light of a sun that had already disappeared below the Pacific horizon. They had Scotches and some cheese with crackers.

"I've got to fly back to Las Vegas tomorrow," said Bat.

"Again?"

"It is my business, you know. The Seven Voyages."

"Your business is being the producer of our show," said Glenda. "Sam's having trouble selling it. We may have to do some reshooting."

"I'm president of Cord Hotels," said Bat. "We bought land south of Flamingo Road. My father is flying in tomorrow. We're meeting with the architect."

"A second Cord hotel," she mused. "What will you call it?"

"Well, since our airline is Inter-Continental, we may call the hotel Intercontinental — with a capital C in the middle."

"Plus you own the place in Cuba."

"Not really. We lease the casino and show room in the Floresta. We have nothing to do with the hotel operation."

"Bat — " She stared out to sea, abruptly shook her head, and didn't finish what she had started to say.

"What's the matter, baby?"

She turned her face toward him. "Bat. Be careful. There are some rough types in Las Vegas."

"That's something else I've got to look into. Our man Chandler seems to have too many friends among those rough types."

"Why don't you get rid of him?" she asked.

"We keep him busy, which gives him less opportunity to make mischief. If we turned him loose, he could become a full-time troublemaker."

They heard the door open, then heard the voice of Jo-Ann: too enthusiastic and slurring her words. "Where are you guys? Out on the deck?" Glenda pulled on a terry-cloth beach coat to cover her swimsuit. Bat turned around and knocked on the glass door, to indicate that was in fact where they were: out on the deck.

Jo-Ann was not alone. Ben Parrish was with her. Bat rued the day he had introduced her to Ben. He could not have imagined she would develop a hasty and intemperate infatuation for the man. He'd done it because Ben was a mature man and broadly knowledgeable about the things in Los Angeles and Hollywood that would most interest Jo-Ann. He had expected Ben to introduce her to some people in the film community and give her a good time.

Glenda had rued the introduction from the moment she heard of it. "My god, Bat! You don't know the man. He's a Hollywood hustler."

"I thought he was an agent. That's how I met him. He tried to interest me in a game show. In fact, I am interested in it."

"You don't know the other element of his reputation," Glenda had said. "He's got the biggest schlong in California. Girls will do anything even to get a look at it."

"You've seen it?"

Glenda had grinned. "No, lover, I haven't. But I've heard about it plenty."