The Inheritors by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online

to go now.”
    I picked up the valise and we went down to the car. I don’t think we spoke two words on the way to town. The chauffeur kept glancing curiously at us in the mirror. It was obvious that she knew him, but she ignored him too.
    The car stopped in front of her apartment on Park Avenue and the doorman came rushing up to get her valise. I got out with her.
    “You okay now?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    “Take care and get some rest,” I said. “I’ll give you a call later to see how you’re doing.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    I kissed her cheek and she went into the building. It was almost five o’clock by the time I got back to my office and the memos and phone calls were stacked up to the ceiling. I got involved and before I knew it, it was eight o’clock and Jack Savitt was on the phone.
    “Still at your desk?” he laughed. “You’re setting a bad example.”
    I glanced over at the pile of papers still to be gone through. “Yeah.”
    “I’ve been on the horn,” he said. “I think I can put your package together for you.”
    “Good.”
    “Shall I come over and talk about it?”
    I glanced at my watch. “No. Meet me over at McCarthy’s Steak House on Second Avenue in fifteen minutes.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    I put down the telephone and hit the buzzer. Fogarty came into the office. “Pack up the rest of this stuff,” I told her. “I’ll go over it at home.”
    She nodded and I went into the bathroom and washed up. I looked at my face in the mirror. It was tired and there were lines on it that hadn’t been there in the morning. I grinned. It all went with my gray hair. I wondered how long it would be before I wouldn’t need the treatment.
    I held a hot towel to my face and it felt good. When I put it down, some of the lines were gone. My eyes were still a little bloodshot. Maybe I needed glasses.
    Fogarty had an attaché case ready for me. I looked at it. It was brand new and had my name discreetly engraved on its side. She snapped it shut, locked it and gave me the key. “Everything is in order,” she said. “And I red-flagged the things that were urgent.”
    Joe Berger was standing at the door as I came in. “Congratulations, Steve,” he said.
    “Thank you, Joe.” We shook hands. I followed him to a booth along the wall.
    His pretty wife Claire smiled and called her congratulations from the cash register as we walked by. I smiled and waved to her. “What’ll be your pleasure?” he asked.
    “Jack Savitt is joining me.”
    “I know. He called, he’ll be about five minutes late.”
    That was about normal for Jack. There should be at least two more calls like that before he showed up.
    “I’ll have about four martinis,” I said. “Then a salad with blue cheese dressing, roast beef rare with the bone, baked potato with sour cream, and that’s it.”
    “Take some advice from an expert, Steve?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    “Develop a taste for Scotch. It’s easier on your stomach. Every ulcer case I know lives on martinis.”
    I laughed. “How about Coca-Cola?”
    “That’s even better. When my son was a baby the doctor told me to give him Coke syrup to settle his stomach.”
    “Okay, Joe,” I laughed. “Now send over the martinis.”
    He went away shaking his head. Jack was right on schedule. Two phone calls and three martinis later, he came bustling in.
    He dropped into the seat opposite me and looked at the table. “What number is that?”
    “The third,” I said, tapping the glass.
    He looked up at the waiter. “Bring two doubles quick.” He turned back to me. “It isn’t that I need it. It’s just that I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
    I grinned. “That’ll be nice for a change.”
    The waiter came back with the doubles. I began to speak but Jack held up his hand. Quickly, he drained one glass and was halfway into the other before he put it down. “Okay, now you can talk,” he said.
    “What about my package?”
    “It wasn’t easy,” he said.
    I