Джон Макдональд - A Flash of Green

“I didn’t know you cared,” Di said to her.

“Do you think it’s wrong for me to take an interest in Martin’s work?” she asked.

“No, Eloise,” Di said. “It’s very refreshing.”

“In any case,” Martin said, “the upland is optioned now.”

“And you’re certain you’ve done the right thing?” Di asked.

“I’m doing the reasonable thing, Dial.”

“An option and a nice fat line of credit.”

“That will be up to the Loan Committee.”

“My God, don’t give me that occupational sidestep, Martin!”

“What are you getting angry about? These are local men of good reputation, Dial. They have an option on access. They have their initial capital. Once they have the right to buy the submerged land from the IIF, they can present a very attractive operating picture. I’ve been assured the development will be in... good taste.”

“Martin,” Eloise said, “can we tell them about Turk’s Island?”

“But we aren’t ready to make any public...”

“Please keep it a secret,” Eloise said eagerly. “It’s being done through the Eleanor Marrinar Cable Foundation. The deeds and surveys and ownership of the land on Turk’s Island were in a terrible mess, and the lawyers have been working on it for over three years, buying it through dummies, or however you say it. Pretty soon the foundation will have the last tract, and then the whole island is going to be presented to the State of Florida as a wildlife refuge, along with all the bay bottom between the island and the channel.”

After a long silence Dial Sinnat said bitterly, “Very very neat, folks. It’s too low and too far offshore to be developed. A sop to the bird-watchers, at a very strategic time. We fight for Grassy Bay too, and we look greedy. I suppose you got it set up so that if the state tries anything cute, title reverts to the foundation?”

“Of course,” Martin Cable said. “There are some squatters on the island. They’ll have the right to stay during their lifetime. The foundation will retain a one-hundred-acre piece of high land fronting on the bay for eventual use as a marine biology laboratory site.”

“And this might just happen to be announced at the Public Hearing on the Grassy Bay development?”

“If it seems opportune.”

“Martin, will you answer just one small silly question?”

“I’ll try, Dial.”

“You’re chairman of the Board of Directors of that foundation. Eloise says you started quietly assembling the Turk’s Island property three years ago. Was this the plan you had in mind in the beginning?”

“N-not exactly.”

“When did you decide to do this with it?”

“I’d have to look at the minutes of the meetings. Perhaps six months ago.”

“Martin, was that before or after you heard of the Palmland Development Company plans?”

Martin Cable chuckled softly. “My word, Dial, I’m not that devious, really.”

“Somebody is, dammit!”

“I hardly think so. Dial, I think you’re trying to make a perfectly innocent coincidence appear to be a plot of some sort. As a matter of fact, Eloise and I had that inspiration one afternoon when we were out on the boat off Turk’s Island last autumn.”

“It was really your idea, darling,” Eloise said.

“Maybe I’m turning paranoid,” Di said. “I keep imagining some masterful hand behind this whole damnable deal. But when I think of the primary personnel involved, Burt Lesser, Bill Gormin, Shannard, Felix Aigan and that Flake animal, there just doesn’t seem to be anybody that damn special. I hear there are others in it, but those are the big five. Leroy Shannard is probably the shrewdest of the lot, but he’s never seemed to have the hunger to go with it. The way this whole thing is being shaped up so carefully, it has the mark of a bold and hungry man. It’s as if we had a visiting eagle in our midst. Martin, is there any chance those five guys are fronting for some tough visiting talent? Is the Lauderdale group trying the devious approach, maybe?”

“On the option, I dealt with Burt Lesser, Leroy and Mr. Gormin, Dial. Not for one minute did I have the impression they were ‘fronting’ for anybody, as you put it. After all, isn’t it a very straightforward development operation?”

“There’s money in it. Lots of money. I’ll feel better about the whole thing when they start to make mistakes, Martin. Then I’ll know it’s purely a local project.”

“Aren’t you in favor of the Turk’s Island plan, Di?” Eloise asked in a chilly tone.

“I think it’s just delicious, sweetie,” Di said. “Let’s all drink to the Eleanor Marrinar Cable Foundation, and to truth, beauty and all the little old lady bird-watchers in tennis shoes, to marine biology, public hearings and all the good gray gentlemen of the Chamber of Commerce. Sorry you’ve resigned from our ball club, Martin, my boy. We’re playing in a tough league this year. We’ll miss you.”

“If it wasn’t for the bank...”

“I know. Eloise explained it to me, and very nicely indeed.”

“I think we should be getting back, dear,” Eloise said to her husband. The Cables left about fifteen minutes later, disappearing into the darkness, and then reappearing thirty yards along Gulf Lane under the small glow of one of the few streetlights in the Estates.

Di said, “Ladies, I am still paranoid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claire said. She had climbed out of the pool to say goodnight to the Cables. She sat on the foot of Kat’s chaise. Dial sat on the redwood table, his powerful legs dangling, looking down at them.

“Our Eloise has taken a hell of an interest in the dreary world of commerce. Whenever poor Martin talked business, she’d yawn and whine. All of a sudden she’s the helpful little woman. Martin thinks it’s cute. I think it’s very strange. How does it strike you, Kat?”

“It’s a little out of character, maybe. But she could just have decided to take an interest.”

“Or she could be working on Martin, as a favor for a friend. A shrew friend could tell her just what line to take with Martin.”

“She doesn’t act as bored as she used to,” Claire said.

“Martin wouldn’t be a very stimulating husband,” Di said. “She’d be a damn fool to play around. She’s got everything to lose. But she’s a crafty one. I think she has a taste for intrigue.”

“Have you checked her out, dear?” Claire asked, too sweetly.

“I haven’t had the time, the energy or the impulse, sweetheart.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t have.”

“I’m sure you will, love. But forgive me for saying I do have a kind of an instinct for such opportunities. I’d mark her possible, but not probable. My interest is totally academic.”

“See that you keep it that way, buster,” Claire ordered.

“With your help, dear.”

“I better be off too,” Kat said. “You understand why I couldn’t say much. I do work for...”

“We understand,” Claire said. “Di wanted you nearby to listen.”

“And now I want to know what you think,” Di said.

“I guess I feel sort of depressed. The way it’s organized, it’s like a steamroller. I can’t really blame Martin for what he’s doing.”

“But given a choice, Martin always prefers to do nothing. So he’s been pushed. By Lady Eloise. That’s what’s odd.”

“Well, thanks for the drinks and steak,” Kat said.

“Walk her home, Di, and walk Nat back, please. That damn Gus makes me nervous this time of night.”

They renewed their repellent spray and walked toward Kat’s house through the dark night. Di carried a small flashlight.

They had not gone far before he sighed audibly and said, “I really think you ought to sit this one out, Kat.”