McNally's Folly by Lawrence Sanders, Vincent Lardo Read Free Book Online Page A

small hours of the morning and returned to my third floor nest where I undressed, washed, brushed, donned a silk robe and, taking my Mont Blanc in hand, added a few sentences to the saga of “Serge the Seer” in my journal, most of them ending in question marks.
    Late to bed and late to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and—late for breakfast. An early-morning call from Arnold Turnbolt didn’t help my cause. “What do you think, Archy? I was très impressed.”
    Figuring it didn’t take much to impress Arnold, I answered, “I’m reserving judgment.”
    Not knowing restraint, Arnold went right on. “I don’t know how you can say that when he called up your grandfather and a stripper named Lolly Pops. It’s too much, Archy. What do you think Lolly was hiding behind those three balloons?”
    “What do you think Ouspenskaya was hiding under that turban?” I really liked Arnold Turnbolt but I liked breakfast better.
    “I don’t see why you’re so chagrined, Archy. I would be delighted to have a show business personality in my family tree. Even Lolly Pops—or should that be, especially Lolly Pops?”
    “We’re not ashamed of Freddy,” I lied, “we just think the dead should rest in peace and not be called upon to amuse the rich at their parlor games.”
    “So what were you doing there?” Arnold was no fool.
    “I was doing Vance a favor and filling in for Fitzwilliams.”
    “That’s not the way Vance tells it.”
    So Vance Tremaine must have started bad-mouthing me as soon as I left his domain with the door prize on my arm. And if Vance told the crew I had invited myself to the séance, there was a good chance he had told Ouspenskaya the same thing when he called the psychic to report my substituting for Fitzwilliams. Ergo, Ouspenskaya was aware I had muscled my way in and after checking my credentials he didn’t have to wait for a news flash on his psychic radio to guess I was there on business.
    “If Ouspenskaya is not the real thing, how do you think he did it? And do those two cruise liners mean anything to you, Archy? You never told us.”
    “How do you know he was referring to cruise ships, Arnold?”
    “ Atlantis and Pearl. I remembered seeing an advert for a cruise ship out of Lauderdale called the Atlantis. I contacted a travel agent friend down there and he told me the two most popular ships out of Lauderdale are the Atlantis and the Pearl of the Antilles .”
    “You just did it, Arnold.”
    “I did? What?”
    “Demonstrated how Ouspenskaya did it. You had a little knowledge, you built upon it with a little research, and you came up with the right answer. Now I must leave you as I have a date with a cup of coffee. It’s been très nice, Arnold.” And I hung up.
    Father, whose metabolic functions are in perfect sync with Greenwich Mean Time, had breakfasted and left for the office an hour before my arrival in the family kitchen. Mother was in the greenhouse tending to her begonias. The maid, mercifully, was not in the backyard hanging up the clothes, but in the kitchen, where she belonged. Jamie, engrossed in the morning paper over a cup of coffee, was also present.
    “Good morning,” I began cheerfully.
    I think I caught Jamie nodding a response and I know I heard Ursi state, “Your grandfather has a big mouth.”
    “The news is already out?” I ventured.
    “Jamie is tight with the Tremaine butler,” Jamie’s wife informed me. Jamie agreed with a sound that was either a grunt or a groan. Conversations between Jamie and Roland must be as exhilarating as watching paint dry.
    “Was Roland listening at the door?” I foolishly asked.
    “What do you think?” Ursi replied, placing a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice before me.
    “Does Father know?”
    “If he does, he didn’t hear it from me,” Ursi said.
    “Nor me,” Jamie echoed to his newspaper.
    It was merely a reprieve from the inevitable. If Father had not heard the news at breakfast, he would surely hear about it at