McNally's Dilemma (38 page)

Seeing the chance to redeem myself in the eyes and heart of Penny Tremaine for being the grandson of a Top Banana, I immediately said that I would drop Fitz wherever she wanted to be dropped. Both Penny and Fitz thought this a fine idea. Vance thought that a better idea would be to have me drawn and quartered.

Vance had invited me to partner him at his club in a tennis doubles match later in the week. As Fitz and I left, he suddenly remembered the match had been canceled and implied that I might never see the inside of the Bath and Tennis again in my lifetime. I didn’t bother telling him I had been barred from far more prestigious institutions, i.e., Yale University.

So it was Archy who zipped along the A1A under a starry sky with the gold-clad Fitz by my side. A heady experience, indeed. “Was your grandfather really a comic in a burlesque revue?” Fitz asked, seemingly fascinated with my lineage.

“The Minsky circuit,” I ceded.

“Neat,” came her reply. “Maybe Lolly Pops is your grandmother.”

The young have rich imaginations. Should such a rumor make the rounds of Palm Beach, the sire’s retribution would be heartless and Archy would be homeless. “Grandmother,” I revealed to Fitz with great solemnity, “was raised by the nuns and short-listed for sainthood upon her demise.”

“Oh,” said Fitz.

Not knowing where Fitz lived, I had to rely on her directions. This got us to the Ta-Boo’ bar and restaurant. “You live here?”

“Practically,” she said. “It’s just about midnight and the bar should be in full swing. I’ll stand you a drink, Archy.”

For those not familiar with Palm Beach in season, midnight is when the social set starts socializing and the only difference between Tuesday night and Saturday night is seventy-two hours. The bar was in full swing with every stool taken and it was none other than Buzz Carr who abdicated his throne for Fitz.

“Hi, Archy. Hi, Fitz,” Buzz welcomed us.

“You two know each other?” I questioned.

“Not in the biblical sense,” Fitz said, “but the night is young.”

I can forgive Buzz Carr his Adonis body, his perfectly layered head of dark hair, his gray eyes and his face that launched a thousand yachts. I cannot forgive him the way beautiful young women and rich old women, both of whom should know better, are all over him like a cheap suit, seemingly oblivious of his reputation as a gender swinger. Or was that part of his lure? Could no temptress resist the challenge of getting Buzz to mend his ways, courtesy of
her
irresistible charms?

I ordered a bourbon and branch water. Fitz asked for a tall scotch and soda. Buzz clung to his bottled beer—no glass. When we were served, Buzz couldn’t wait to inform us, “I’m going to be in a show.”

I closed my eyes, pressed thumb and forefinger against my forehead and proclaimed, “The Palm Beach Community Theater proudly presents
Arsenic and Old Lace
.”

“How did you know?” Buzz was very impressed.

“We just came from a séance and the spirits are still with us.”

“The Ouspenskaya guy,” Buzz guessed correctly. “Lady Cynthia is wild about him.”

“He contacted Archy’s grandfather who was a Top Banana,” Fitz announced.

“What’s a Top Banana?” Buzz wanted to know.

“Never mind,” I broke in. “It’s, all nonsense.” I needn’t have worried about discouraging talk of my ancestor as the very young don’t stay focused on one topic for more than one sound bite, especially when an aspiring actor is on a roll.

“Bet you’ll never guess who’s gonna be my co-star,” Buzz bragged.

If Ouspenskaya knew I was working for Desdemona Darling’s husband, that was already one person too many who knew. Prudence told me to repeat the act I had put on for Connie so I feigned surprise when Buzz said, “Desdemona Darling.”

“Who’s she?” Fitz asked, taking the wind out of Buzz’s sails.

“One of the biggest Hollywood stars ever,” Buzz insisted.

“She was a wee bit before your time, Fitz, my dear.” To Buzz, I said, “I take it she plays one of the old maid aunts.”

“Right, Archy. And we still haven’t cast the other old maid aunt or any of the other roles, but there’s a great part in it for you, Fitz. You can play my girl.”

Halfway through her tall scotch and soda, Fitz appeared unimpressed with being discovered at Ta-Boo’. “I’ve never acted,” she told Buzz.

“Neither has he,” I said. “You would be perfectly matched and pose no threat to the memory of Lunt and Fontanne.”

“Who are they?” Fitz asked.

Present company considered, I declared the question moot.

“We open at the Lake Worth Playhouse...” Buzz rambled on, but what else he had to say was lost on this listener.

“The Lake Worth Playhouse?” Fitz repeated. “Didn’t Ouspenskaya mention that place, Archy?”

I felt the fickle finger of fate’s icy digit slither up my spine as I answered, “Indeed he did. Indeed he did.”

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The publisher and the estate of Lawrence Sanders have chosen Vincent Lardo to create this novel based on Lawrence Sanders’s beloved character, Archy McNally, and his fictional world.

copyright © 1999 by Lawrence A. Sanders Enterprises, Inc.

cover design by Jason Gabbert

978-1-4532-9830-5

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