McNally's risk

"You have a point," I agreed. "Very well, it's a deal."

I gave him the two names, Hector Johnson and Reuben Hagler, and the latter's license tag.

"Johnson?" the sergeant repeated, and I could hear interest quickening in his voice. "Isn't he the guy you're ru

"That's correct."

"And his daughter was the model for Hawkin's last painting?"

"Yes," I said. "Except for 'Untitled.' "

"Uh-huh," Al said. "All right, I'll see what I can do. Don't expect a report tomorrow, Archy. These things take time. But eventually I'll get back to you."

"A consummation devoutly to be wished," I said.

"When are you going to learn to talk like a human being?" he demanded and hung up.

I showered and dressed informally for my di

I arrived early at the Club and put Mr. Pettibone to the test by ordering an Emerald Isle. Again I failed to stump him. He just nodded and said, "Gin, green creme de menthe, bitters," and set to work. The result was quite tasty but packed such a wallop I thought it best to switch to Labatt's Ale, and I was sipping that when Co

She looked delicious, as usual, but that woman would be ravishing in a cast-iron muumuu. Fortunately she was wearing a silk jacket and shorts in a sea foam shade that complemented her suntan perfectly. Her long black hair was up in a chignon, and she was the cynosure of all eyes- including mine. We moved immediately to the dining room before Leroy's whole suckling pig was reduced to a glistening skeleton.

Glancing around at the crowd of famished diners I was happy to see that Americans were finally getting off their pernicious health kick. I mean there was a time when, scared silly by nutritionists, everyone seemed to believe that if they limited their diet to oats, turnips, and other goopy stuff, they'd live forever. Rubbish! Man does not live by tofu alone. Go for it, America!

We had roasted pork chops and sweet-and-sour sauce, minted noodles, and a salad of Arugula and endive with blue cheese dressing. Crusty pumpernickel baguettes. Dessert was a passion fruit tart served with fresh pineapple ice cream. If all that doesn't put your gastric juices in full flood, go back to your yogurt and see if I care.

Co

"Of course," I said. "Gossip is mother's milk to me."

"Remember your asking me about Hector Johnson? Well, the talk is that he's taking a close interest in Silas Hawkin's widow. In fact, from what I hear, the two of them are what used to be called an item."

"No kidding?" I said, feigning a mild but not excessive interest. "He's pitching her, is he?"

"Apparently," Co

"Comforting the bereaved, no doubt."

"Oh sure," she scoffed. "Louise Hawkin also happens to be a well-put-together lady and probably stands to inherit a bundle. Johnson just moved faster than the other middle-aged bachelors in Palm Beach."

"I wonder what the daughter thinks of it."

"Marcia? Oh, she's a ding-a-ling; everyone knows that. About a year ago she was picked up at midnight wandering stark naked down Ocean Boulevard."

"I never heard that one," I said. "Drunk? Or stoned?"

"I don't think so," Co

"Aren't we all?" I said lightly. "You know what I'd like at the bar?"

"A stomach pump?" she suggested.

"Slivovitz," I said. "To settle the old tumtum."

"Oh God," she said. "I hope you won't start howling at the moon again."

"I've never done that," I protested. "Have I?"

"Yes," Co

She had recently purchased a new car, a white Ford Escort. Not enough pizzazz for my taste, but Co

Co

We sprawled on her rattan couch, shoes off, and just relaxed awhile after that humongous meal. We were so comfortable with each other that we weren't bothered by long silences. Co

The tape ended and Co

We undressed as slowly and unconcernedly as an old married couple while we wondered if that passion fruit tart might not have been better with pistachio ice cream. Very domestic. Then we slid into bed, and those B-12s didn't let me down.

Co

Then I think we both may have drowsed a bit because when I glanced at her illuminated bedside clock it was close to two a.m.

"I think I better hit the road," I said in a low voice.

Co

"Thank you," I said. "And happy dreams."

She watched me dress. "Who is she, Archy?" she asked quietly.

I paused with one leg in my slacks and one leg out, an awkward posture as any guilty lad will tell you. "Who is whom?" I inquired, expecting the worst and getting it.

"That woman you had lunch with at Mizner Park yesterday."

I resumed getting into my trousers. "I suppose it would be fruitless to deny it," I said.

"Yes," she said steadily, "it would."

"What if I told you she was my cousin?" I said hopefully.

"Then by actual count she would be the seventeenth female cousin you've claimed."

I decided to be absolutely honest-a dreadful mistake. "The lady in question," I said, "is Theodosia Johnson, daughter of Hector. Chauncey Wilson Smythe-Hersforth hopes she will become his fiancee. McNally and Son have been requested by Chauncey's mother to investigate Theodosia's credentials and make certain she is worthy of becoming a member of the Smythe-Hersforth clan."

"And part of your investigation included taking her to lunch in Boca Raton?"

"There is no adequate substitute for a personal interview," I said piously.

Co

I finished dressing and got my pale pink shirttail caught in the zipper of my slacks. I tried to free it to no avail. The tail hanging out looked like-well, you know what it looked like. Co