"Yes," I said. "Grace Montgomery. If Linden knew who I really was. .. "
"He might have undergone a spontaneous combustion, right before our eyes," Thatcher said, nodding. "Did you come here expressly to interview Grace?"
"I had it as an objective, yes," I said. That was certainly true. "I see. Well, that does change things,"
"I didn't like lying to you. I was
uncomfortable."
He nodded slowly. "Well, Palm Beach isn't exactly the capital of truth." he said. "People lie to themselves here almost as much as they lie to others."
"It's not so different from other places in that respect. Thatcher."
He turned back to me, his eyes softer, now devoid of distrust and accusation. "Maybe not." He thought a moment. "Okay. I actually like this," he said, starting the car again and putting it into drive. "But when Linden Montgomery finds out who you really are, he's going to be very upset," he warned. "He's paranoid as it is."
I wondered how much of that was prophecy.
.
The Eatons had two other couples at their brunch: Lord and Lady Thomas, both well into their seventies, and George McCluster and his wife, who was introduced to me as Dolly. Lord Thomas had been a British high court justice. George McCluster was presented as one of the most successful real estate agents in Palm Beach. He looked to be in his early fifties, but his wife's are was difficult to guess because of all the cosmetic surgery she had undergone. To my surprise, she was proud of it.
"My wife's skin has been pulled back so tightly so many times," George remarked in front of her. "that she can't quite close her eyelids, even when she sleeps. Right. Dolly?"
"It's not that bad, and besides, it's a small price to pay. I don't see why anyone should tolerate wrinkles," she preached.
"Not everyone can afford cosmetic surgery," Thatcher said softly, and winked at me.
"Nonsense. It's a matter of priorities. Spend less on other things. save for it. There should be a cosmetic surgery plan similar to the Social Security plan. Money should come out of people's salaries automatically, that's all."
"Great political platform for our next
presidential candidate." Asher Eaton cried, drawing the headline in the air before him. "Vote for me, and vote for no wrinkles."
Everyone laughed.
We were sitting on the rear loggia overlooking the pool. The Eatons' chef. Mario, was grilling lobster. A large bowl of Caesar salad had already been prepared, and there were breads and rolls. A separate table with a variety of desserts that Bunny pointed out included truffle demi-glace and something called Giandika chocolate cake with fresh raspberries. "just like they served at the last event held at the RitzCarlton," she concluded.
We were drinking mimosas, which were glasses of orange juice mixed with champagne. After I had been introduced, they all seemed eager to offer their opinions concerning wealth and morality.
"I, for one, think the more money you have, the more opportunity you have to be a good person." Dolly McCluster said. "Look at how much we all give to charity. Could we do that if we weren't well off?"
"There are many who are but are very tight with their pocketbooks, I'm afraid," Lady Thomas said quietly. She spoke so softly it was hard to hear her at times, whereas Dolly McCluster practically bellowed when she talked,
"Having money does eliminate a major motivation for crime," Thatcher's father suggested. He looked at Thatcher, but Thatcher didn't agree or disagree. "I mean, people don't have to steal if they have money. right?"
"I don't know about that. Asher," Lord Thomas ventured to say. "The wealthy don't steal to eat or to have expensive cars, of course, but some rich people I've known and have had before me as defendants have attempted extortion, fraud, and other things to become more powerful. perhaps,"
"What's an unfriendly stock takeover of a company if not a form of stealing?" Lady Thomas said, and most of the others looked at her as if she had blasphemed.
"No. I think that's just good business." George McCluster said. "What do you think. Thatcher?"
"I think... I think I'm rather hungry," he said, and everyone laughed.
"Very diplomatic of you." I told him as we went for our food. Two maids, which I thought was overkill considering the small number of guests, stood behind the tables serving us.
"I just didn't want to influence your
conclusions," he said.