Windmills of the Gods - Page 11

“Rich. Angel, he’s rich.”

Lantz continued to caress her. “Who are his friends?”

Her voice was drowsy. “Angel got no fren’s. I’m his fren’.”

Neusa closed her eyes. “Hey, I’m sleepy. Let’s go to sleep.”

Lantz stayed there quietly until he was certain Neusa was asleep. Then he carefully arose from the bed, padded over to the closet, and switched on the closet light.

There were a dozen suits hanging on the rack and six pairs of men’s shoes on the floor. Lantz opened the jackets and examined the labels. The suits were all custom-made by Heffera, Avenida la Plata. I’ve hit the jackpot! Lantz gloated. They’ll have a record of Angel’s address. I’ll go and ask a few questions. Then all I have to do is tip off my friends in Mossad and collect the reward.

Lantz thought he heard a sound from across the room. He quickly turned out the closet light and walked over to the bed. Neusa’s eyes were closed, ‘and she was snoring lightly. He tiptoed to the bureau and began looking through the drawers, hoping to find a photograph of Angel. No luck. He crept back to bed.

WHEN Harry Lantz awoke in the morning, he heard Neusa singing off key in the bathroom.

She was standing in front of the mirror. Her hair was done up in fat curlers, and she looked, if possible, even more unattractive than before. She pointed to the bathtub full of water. “I fix a bath for you. When you’re finish’, I fix breakfast.”

“Sounds great,” he lied.

“You like omelets? I make good omelets. Angel teach me.”

Neusa plugged in an electric hair dryer and began to dry her hair.

Lantz stepped into the bathtub and lay back in the warm water, thinking, Maybe I should get a gun and take Angel myself. If I let the Israelis do it, there’ll probably be an inquiry into who gets the reward. This way there won’t be any question. I’ll just tell them where to pick up his body.

Neusa said something, but Harry Lantz could barely hear her over the roar of the hair dryer.

“What did you say?” he called out.

“I got a presen’ for you from Angel.”

She dropped the electric hair dryer into the water and stood there watching as Lantz’s body twitched in a dance of death.

PRESIDENT PAUL ELLISON looked down at the last security report on Mary Ashley and said, “Not a blemish, Stan.”

“I know. I think she’s the perfect candidate. Of course, State isn’t going to be happy.”

“We’ll send them a crying towel. Now Let’s hope the Senate will back us up. Would you like another drink, Stan?”

“No, thanks. Unless you need me tonight, I’m taking Barbara to an opening at the Kennedy Center.”

“You go ahead,” Paul Ellison said. “Alice and I are due to entertain some relatives of hers.”

“Please give my love to Alice,” Stanton Rogers said. He rose.

“And you give mine to Barbara.”

Chapter Four

MARY Ashley’s nerves were on edge during dinner. The children were being impossible again. Beth refused to touch her food.

“No one eats meat anymore,” Beth insisted. “It’s a barbaric custom carriedover from the cavernan. Civilized people don’t eat live animals.”

. “It’s not alive,” Tim argued. “It’s dead, so you might as well eat it.”

“Children! Quiet. Beth, go make yourself a salad.”

“She could go graze in the field,” Tim offered.

“Tim! Finish your dinner.” Mary’s head was pounding.

The telephone rang.

“That’s for me,” Beth said. She leaped out of her chair and raced toward the telephone. She picked it up and said flirtatiously, “Virgil?” She listened a moment, and her expression changed. “Oh, sure,” she said disgustedly. She slammed down the receiv&r and returned to the table.

“What was that all about?” Edward asked.

“Some joker. said it was the White House calling Mom.”

“The White House?”

The telephone rang again.

“I’ll get it.” Mary rose and walked over to the telephone. “Hello.” As she listened, her face grew grim. “We’re in the middle of dinner, and I don’t think this is funny-What? Who?

The President?” There was a hush in the room. “Wait, I-Oh, good evening, Mr. President.” There was a dazed expression on her face. Her family was watching her, wide-eyed. “Yes, sir. I do. I recognize your voice. H’m sorry about hanging up a moment ago. Beth thought it was Virgil, and-Yes, sir. Thank you.” She stood there listening. “Would I be willing to serve as what?” Her face suddenly flushed.

Edward was on his feet, moving toward the phone, the children close behind him.

“There must be some mistake, Mr. President. My name is Mary Ashley. I’m a professor at Kansas State University, and-You read it? Thank you, sir.” She listened for a long time. “Yes, sir. I agree. But that doesn’t mean that I-Yes, sir. I’m sure It’s a wonderful opportunity, but I-Of course. I will. I’ll talk it over with my husband and get back to you.” She picked up a pen and wrote down a number. “Yes, sir. I have it. Thank you, Mr. President. Goodbye.” She slowly replaced the receiver and stood there in shock.

“What in heaven was that all about?” Edward demanded.

“was it really the President?” Tim asked.

Mary sank into a chair. “Yes. It really was.”

Edward took Mary’s hand in his. “Mary, what did he want?”

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