“It was nothing.”
Joan laughed. “Sooo modest. What’s going to happen to them? Rock what’s-his-name and the girl, I mean.”
“Ninety days for the girl, maybe a year honor farm for Rockwell. They should hire your dad–he’d get them off.”
“You don’t really care, do you?”
“I hope they cop a plea and save me a court date. And I hope they do some time and learn their lesson.”
“I smoked marijuana once, in college. It made me hungry and I ate a whole box of cookies and got sick. You wouldn’t have arrested me, would you?”
“No, you’re too nice.”
“I’m _bored_ enough to try it again, I’ll tell you that.”
His opening. “How’s your love life, Joanie?”
“It isn’t. Do you know a policeman named Edmund Exley? He’s tall and he wears these cute glasses. He’s Preston Exley’s son.”
Straight-arrow Eddie: war hero with a poker up his ass. “I know who he is, but I don’t really know him.”
“Isn’t he cute? I saw him at his father’s house last night.”
“Rich-kid cops are from hunger, but I know a nice fellow who’s interested in you.”
“You do? Who?”
“A man named Ellis Loew. He’s a deputy district attorney.”
Joan smiled, frowned. “I heard him address the Rotary Club once. Isn’t he Jewish?”
“Yeah, but look to the bright side. He’s a Republican and a corner.”
“Is he nice?”
“Sure, he’s a sweetheart.”
Joan flicked the tree; fake snow swirled. “Welll, tell him to call me. Tell him I’m booked up for a while, but he can stand in line.”
“Thanks, Joanie.”
“Thank you, Miles Standish. Look, I think I see Daddy giving me the come-hither. Bye, Jackie!”
Joan skipped off; Jack geared up for more shtick–maybe the Mitchum job, a soft version. A soft voice: “Mr. Vincennes. Hello.”
Jack turned around. Karen Morrow in a green cocktail dress, her shoulders beaded with rain. The last time he’d seen her she was a too-tall, too-gawky kid forced to say thank you to a cop who’d strongarmed a hop pusher. Four years later just the too-tall stuck–the rest was a girl-to-woman changeover. “Karen, I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Karen smiled. Jack said, “I’d tell you you’ve gotten beautiful, but you’ve heard it before.”
“Not from you.”
Jack laughed. “How was college?”
“An epic, and not a story to tell you while I’m freezing. I told my parents to hold the party indoors, that England did not inure me to the cold. I have a speech prepared. Do you want to help me feed the neighbor’s cats?”
“I’m on the job.”
“Talking to my sister?”
“A guy I know has a crush on her.”
“Poor guy. No, poor Joanie. Shit, this is not going the way I planned.”
“Shit, then let’s go feed those cats.”
Karen smiled and led the way, wobbling, high heels on grass. Thunder, lightning, rain–Karen kicked off her shoes and ran barefoot. Jack caught up at the next-door porch–wet, close to laughing.
Karen opened the door. A foyer light was on; Jack looked at her–shivering, goose bumps. Karen shook water from her hair. “The cats are upstairs.”
Jack took off his blazer. “No, I want to hear your speech.”
“I’m sure you know what it is. I’m sure lots of people have thanked you.”
“You haven’t.”
Karen shivered. “Shit. I’m sorry, but this is not going the way I planned.”
Jack draped his coat around her shoulders. “You got the L.A. papers over in England?”
“Yes.”
“And you read about me?”
“Yes. You–”
“Karen, they exaggerate sometimes. They build things up.”
“Are you telling me those things I’ve read are lies?”
“Not ex–no, they’re not.”
Karen turned away. “Good, I knew they were true, so here’s your speech, and don’t look at me, because I’m flustered. One, you got me away from taking pills. Two, you convinced my father to send me abroad, where I got a damn good education and met nice people. Three, you arrested that terrible man who sold me the pills.”
Jack touched her; Karen flinched away. “No, let me tell it! Four, what I wasn’t going to mention, is that Les Weiskopf gave girls pills for free if they slept with him. Father was stingy with my allowance and sooner or later I would have done it. So there–you kept my goddamned virtue intact.”