The Stand-In (9 page)

When the phone rang, Bran glanced at his watch as he ran to answer it. “Hello?” There was the inevitable pause you got on English phones. “Hello, this is Branton Collier. My wife wants me to speak for her.” He signaled okay to Coral because she'd been petrified they would hang up when they heard a man's voice.
If you hear a man's voice, hang up
. “Hello? Hello?” It was a British voice, a man, a respectful British man's voice.

“Mr. Collier? This is Withers, Mr. Collier.”

“Get off this line, Withers! It's only Withers, Coral. What?”

“But madam expressly instructed the nurse to ring her when she brought Miss Cornie back.”

“What? Go on! Go on!”

“Madam wished the nurse to ring her up when she returned. I am sorry to say that the young person is too intoxicated—
staggered
in, sir, so I took the liberty of ringing up Lady St. Justin's as madam requested and was informed that you and madam had returned to the St. Georges.”

“Cornie's there?”

“Upstairs, sir. Mrs. Withers took her upstairs straightaway when the nanny and her young man brought her back.”

“Cornie's there? She's there in the
house?”

“Yes, sir. I took it on myself to ring you up, since madam—”

“You did exactly right, Withers. Hold on, Withers. I want you to tell Mrs. Collier exactly what you just told me. Hold the line.” He had to walk to Coral with the phone. “It's Withers, Coral,
Withers!
Coral, Cornie is back home! The nurse and a guy just brought her home. She's in her bed. You'll believe it when you talk to Withers.”

He held the receiver to Coral's mouth because she was just swallowing and swallowing, couldn't get a word out. “Withers, madam has been worried sick. Just tell her what you told me, Withers.” He held the receiver in place again so Coral couldn't help hearing and put one arm around his wife's shoulders and, as Withers explained, kept squeezing her shoulders, squeeze, squeeze:
You see, you see, you see?

Withers finished. “Will there be anything further, madam?”

She just swallowed. “Coral, wake up! The nurse must have got cold feet and brought Cornie back home. It's all over, darling.” She positively grabbed the phone away.

“Withers, bring Cornie to the telephone.”

“But, madam, it is after ten. I explained to Mr. Collier that Mrs. Withers was putting her to bed because the nanny is too intoxicated.”

“Wake her up, don't you hear me? I said bring her to the phone! No! Hang up. I'll call you back in five minutes.” She thrust the receiver at Bran again. “It could be a trick, just because he
says
it's Withers! Just because he
says
she's back doesn't make it true.”

“Of course it's true.”

“He could be one of
them.”
She put her knuckle to her mouth.

“Withers?”

“You thought Nube, didn't you? Why not Withers? That's not half as crazy as Nube—I'll wait two minutes, then I'll call.”

Ten minutes later they were having stiff Scotches. Withers had promised to sit in a chair in front of Cornie's door until they drove out in the morning to bring Cornie back with them. “That Brandt is going to be sorry she was born before I'm through with her! What do you get for attempted kidnapping, Bran?”

“Well, the time I was kidnapped—”

“That man was just a nut.”

“This Brandt is either a nut, and we know she isn't, or there can be only one explanation. She's figuring on protection.”

“I don't get that.”

“Don't be so dumb, Coral! Think!”

“I can't. I'm sorry, Bran, all I can think is be happy.” She gave him her smile, jumped up, and for some reason wanted to do a split. She started to, then, partway down remembered about the little girl split like a butcher's chicken and hastily pulled her legs together. “Oh, Bran!” But he wasn't remembering what could have happened.

“Suppose someone who thinks he can promise anybody anything promised Brandt protection and money. And—listen, Coral—did Brandt ever mention wanting to get into pictures? She's not much to look at, but that never stopped anybody yet. No? Then that's out, but suppose someone promised her money and protection if she kept Cornie away until after we signed over the rights to
Wind?”

“You're back on that again! I tell you—ridiculous!”

“It is? Well,
this
is ridiculous! Brandt and this guy taking Cornie and then just changing their minds and bringing her back.”

“She was stoned.” Now Coral bent over, touching her fingers to her toes, then relaxed completely from the waist so her voice came up soft and muffled. “When you're stoned you do crazy things.”

“Crazy like a fox, to coin a phrase! Okay, I'm foxy, too. Let's call the cops now and have them arrested. Let's get some publicity out of it; after all, Cornie's our kid. A big fat spread, the three of us.”

Coral straightened up. The blood had run into her face. “Positively not, Bran! I don't want
any
publicity about this.”

“Why not? You'd think the one thing you'd have learned from Nube was when you can get space, grab it.”

“Positively no publicity about Cornie, darling, please. We've been all over that.” She gave him a kiss. “Darling, fix us another drink to celebrate.”

“Not for me. I still have to keep on my toes. I have to be ready for the next curve.” She had gone ahead and fixed a drink for him even though he had just said—But no, he thought, watching her holding a glass out to him, she couldn't have been in with Nube on this. If she hadn't really been scared, she wouldn't have had that smell, that stink. He knew Coral didn't have real faith in him; he knew she had gone along with
Wind
to do him a favor, but even if she wanted Nube to direct she wouldn't have involved Cornie. He kissed her hand with the glass in it. “You have them both.”

“Um, I will.”

6

At eleven when the phone rang again Bran took it because he was sure it would be Nube, but it was someone for Coral. As he extended the receiver toward her he remembered they hadn't canceled the order that all calls be put through to their room. They must do that. He heard Coral say hello but nothing else; then there was that stink again and, still holding the phone, she had begun the swallowing.

He took the receiver and set it back in the cradle.

“He hung up, Bran.”

“Who? Who hung up?” Should he speak to Coral about that smell?

“I must come alone. I must drive the Ferrari. He told me we'd get a letter in the early mail so we'd know she's still alive. Bran, let's go! Let's go get Cornie now. We don't have to wait.” She got up to find a cigarette, dropped the package, and started for the bedroom.

“Stop running around like a chicken with its head cut off! Think!” She whirled around and her face was so terrible he remembered the sex pervert slitting little girls like chickens and wished he hadn't put it that way, but it was just an expression his mother used. “Coral, let's think this out first. We
spoke
to Cornie.
We
made the call. We called her, and we spoke to her.”

“I don't care! I know. I don't care. I want to get her now, this minute!” She ran to the closet and pulled out her coat. “We spoke to a sleepy little kid. It could have been some other kid. It could have been someone who can imitate her voice. Why not? Don't ask me how they did it, I don't know and I don't care. Bran, we can't
know
it was Cornie on the phone because we didn't see her. What are you doing?” He was picking up the phone again. “You're wasting time!”

“Just one call.”

“No.”

“Put on your coat, then. Get your coat, get mine, too, it's cold.” He spoke into the phone. “Connect me with Mrs. Williams' room. Go on, Coral, get my coat.”

“Telling my sister won't help.”

“This won't take a minute. They're ringing. Millie? Bran here. I'm sorry to disturb you so late. Did I wake you?” Coral, now in her sable, was poking his coat at him and he held up his free hand to fend her off. “I'm glad I didn't, Millie. Didn't wake Kitten, either, I hope.” Now he held one finger to his lips for quiet. “Where? With the nurse? Yes, of course. Slipped my mind. No, Nube had the right idea. Much better for her to sleep over.

“What did I call for? What did I call for?” He hit his forehead with the flat of his palm. “Coral's earrings. Millie, did Coral give you those earrings of hers to hold today, or did she put them down somewhere and then forget them?” He cocked his head as he listened, his eyes shining. He was projecting. “That's what I thought! You did
not
give them to Millie, Coral! See you, Millie.” Now he took the coat Coral was extending and laid it over the back of a chair. “You can take yours off again, Coral, didn't you hear? Didn't you get the message?
Kitten isn't with Millie tonight!
Millie said Nube sent this
nurse
to take Kitten to Lady St. Shit's house for publicity and because it would be so late the kid and this nurse are staying over there.”

“I don't want to hear any more about Nube.”

“You're not paying attention. This has nothing to do with Nube. He never sent any nurse to bring Kitten to the party. It was Kitten they snatched! Millie's daughter. Your niece. It was Kitten the whole time, and never Cornie!”

“Kitten?”

“Work it out. Think what Millie just told me.”

“They took Kitten? They thought Kitten was Cornie? But Cornie was gone—when we called, Cornie and Brandt weren't there.”

“Yes, I know. Look, forget about Cornie. The papers announced that Cornie was starring in
Peepshow
with us, right? And since Nube must be waiting for the perfect time to tell the world that he has substituted your sister's kid for the part, the public still doesn't know the kid in the movie isn't Cornie.”

“They thought it was Cornie?”

“It's obvious, once you see it. And we believed them because that damned Brandt didn't bring Cornie home when she should have. Brandt has some guy she wants to make and a little thing like our kid wasn't going to stop her, so she stays out drinking with him and Cornie. Withers said it wasn't the first time, remember? Boy,” he said, “is the joke on those kidnappers!”

“Oh, poor Millie, poor Millie!”

“Poor Millie has Nube to thank. He held back the story about substituting Kitten until he could milk every drop of publicity about the three of us playing in
Peepshow
. That figures! I thought he'd sue us when you reneged on Cornie doing the part.”

“Nube's always been great to me.”

“Why not? You always did what you were told, why not? I figured he really wanted Kitten because she looks more like you and just let you
think
he was doing you a favor.”

“Stop about Nube, Nube! Poor Millie, poor Millie! Bran, what do we do now?”

“We don't pick up that phone and tell her if that's what you mean. What the hell for? Why are you looking at me like that? What the hell for? She'll have to start suffering soon enough.”

Since when did Bran give a shit for Millie? There was some other reason he didn't want Millie knowing yet, but she couldn't think now. Beneath the pity for her sister was the ecstasy that it wasn't Cornie, that Cornie was safe. That was terrible, but natural. She stared at her husband, seeing his frown.

“We've got to think. Once your sister knows that Kitten isn't where she's supposed to be, all hell will break loose so we better think now.”

Coral wondered about what, but not too hard. She was too relieved, and stoned besides.

7

As if he was going to use it in a photograph, Alec Agathon fluffed the pillow on which Millie's head had been resting before the phone rang. Although she had set the phone back on the table between the two beds, she was still sitting up. He gently stroked her naked back, but now she didn't feel it. “Nothing like a phone call to break up the mood, huh?” No reaction. He raised himself on his elbows, the gray and white hairs thick on his chest and in patches on his shoulders. “Doll, you're not regretting, sweetheart? You're not hating yourself in the morning when it's not even midnight yet?” He put his hand on her chin and gently turned her face toward him and away from the telephone, but she wasn't looking sour because he was in her bed naked. The call hadn't sounded as if it were about the contract, but Alec's heart began to hammer. Signed, sealed, and delivered, it was safe in the pocket of his tweed jacket giving him exclusive rights over Katherine Williams, movies, plays, TV appearances, for five years, with an option for another five. “Sweetheart, you're not scared Coral will be sore because you signed the contract? Your sister would be the first to want this wonderful kid to get her innings!”

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes? Just yes?” Millie took his fingers off her chin, but as if she didn't know what was touching her. He went on. “Not that I think Coral gave Kitten a break. I think Kitten gave
Peep
a break. She's going to make that picture! I think Coral recognizes a star when she sees one, and so does my cousin Nube, because who can deny how many stars besides Coral he discovered, but this time Nube waited just a little too long.”

He was aware that he wasn't reaching her with this any more than when he had stroked her back, but because he was so excited about it he went on. “Nube can't blame Coral, she doesn't even know about the contract.”

“It isn't that,” she said slowly. “It isn't the contract.” She got out of bed without noticing she was leaving him.

“Then what? I go for you, Millie, you got to believe that! I went for you before I saw what your little doll had. This—” he pointed to the disordered bed, “had nothing to do with the contract. You know that?”