The Race (Isaac Bell 4)
Bell asked, “When did you last read a newspaper?”
“I saw a scrap of one last week in the Kansas City yards.”
“Are you aware that your heavy biplane smashed?”
“No! Can it be fixed?”
“It ran into a mountain.”
“That is most disturbing. What of the driver?”
“What you would expect.”
Celere put down his fork. “That is terrible. I am so sorry. I hope it was not the fault of the machine.”
“The machine was as worn out as the rest of them. It’s a long race.”
“But a magnificent challenge,” said Celere.
“I should also warn you,” said Bell, watching his eyes closely, “that Josephine has remarried.”
Celere surprised him. He would have thought Celere would be troubled to learn that his girlfriend had married. Instead, he said, “Wonderful! I am so happy for her! But what of her marriage to Frost?”
“Annulled.”
“Good. That is only right. He was a terrible husband to her. To whom has she been married?”
“Preston Whiteway.”
Celere clapped his hands in delight. “Ah! Perfect!”
“Why is that perfect?”
“She is a racer. He is a race promoter. A marriage made in Heaven. I can’t wait to congratulate him and wish her happiness.”
Bell glanced at Texas Walt, who was listening at the door, then asked the Italian inventor, “Would you care to get cleaned up first? I’ll find you a razor and some fresh clothes. There’s a washroom in the back of the hangar car.”
“Grazie! Thank you. I really must look a sight.”
Bell exchanged glances with Texas Walt again and answered with a smile t
hat didn’t light his eyes. “You look pretty much like a fellow who crossed the continent in a freight car.”
Bell and Hatfield led him to the washroom and gave him a towel and razor.
“Thank you, thank you. Could I ask one more favor?”
“What would you like?”
“Would there be some brilliantine?” He ran his fingers through his dirty hair. “That I might smooth my hair?”
“I’ll rustle some up,” said Texas Walt.
“Thank you, sir. And some mustache wax? It will be wonderful to be myself again.”
“LIKE A FELLOW WHO CROSSED the continent in a freight car?” Texas Walt echoed Isaac Bell’s assessment with a dubious grin.
Bell grinned back. “What do you think?”