Chapter 5

"Check it out," Vanessa says. Cynthia does, squinting intently at the photograph.

"Looks like the girl knows what she's doing, garden-wise," Cynthia concurs, pointing to the muslin gauze covering the tomato stakes.

"Maybe it's the real thing, after all," Nancy observes.

"As far as the girl is concerned, I'm sure that's true," Cynthia says.

"But then, she's not the problem, remember?"

"Right," Vanessa confirms.

"She's merely the victim.

"And, unless I miss my guess, the first of many, at that.

"But we still have to play the waiting game.

"We move too soon, and even the girl would be hard put not to believe we're a trio of loonies, until it's too late."

"Delicate damn situation," Cynthia agrees.

"There's absolutely nothing until there's something, at which time we have to move like greased lightning."

"Greased lightning," Nancy says, "that's us."

"Your confidence is indeed reassuring," Cynthia says.

"I was being sarcastic."

"So noted.

"Now, then. Going back to the overall views, notice something else, anyone?

"It has to do with wheels, hint, hint."

"Eric," Vanessa says.

"He doesn't put the limo away in the garage."

"That's right!

"Weather's been dry for so long that he keeps it right at the portico, ready to move at a snap of Buck's fingers."

"Good man, Eric:" Nancy puts in.

"Good chauffeur? Yes, I suppose he is, at that," Cynthia agrees.

"Point is, we can tell if Buck is there or not merely by watching the spot in front of the portico, since he doesn't make a move without his beloved Eric."

"Right now, for example—by the way, is the chopper up, Vanessa!"

"Absolutely.

"I can patch through, if you wish."

"I wish."

Vanessa picks up the phone and is soon in contact.

"I have the chopper, Cynthia."

"Is it or isn't it?"

Vanessa speaks into the phone.

"Gone.

"Girl's working on God's little acre, but no limo in the driveway.

"Anything else?"

"Not at the moment."

Vanessa talks into the phone briefly and disconnects.

"What are we doing?" Vanessa asks, puzzled.

"Well, let us reason together," Cynthia begins.

"First, we have Randy's next victim, the farm girl garden person, the first of many, as Vanessa so aptly put it, in a program we are powerless to stop because, until it actually gets started, there is nothing to stop.

"Our action? Surveillance.

"The girl's in the garden, working, therefore she is not yet a wisp of smoke above the Estate's incinerator.

"Problem.

"The garden isn't big enough to keep the girl working out there, morning and afternoon, very much longer.

"She could, of course, pass her days beside the pool, sunning her buns to a rich, golden brown, but we can't count on it.

"If she disappears into the great indoors, we don't know what is happening, especially dangerous when the limo continues to occupy home port.

"Then, there is the matter of the nights, Buck's fave time of day.

"What if Randy suddenly tires of the build-up, the anticipation?"

"What if he has a bad day at the office and decides that right now would be an excellent time to take it out on somebody?

"Who is to say that he and his merry men won't suddenly decide not to wait for that special occasion to have their little party?

"Right now, we're gambling with that girl's life because we have no choice.

"Right now, it seems, not a safe but a relatively safe thing to do.

"The garden is looking more and more like serious dirt every day and very real progress is being made.

"That fits in with Buck's personality.

"This particular joke is a shaggy dog story and the longer he drags it out, the funnier it will be when he gets to the punch line.

"Another factor to consider, his brothers in the creephood, Cranston and Eric.

"So far, as you know, Randy has gotten into the girl at least once, possibly more.

"This means that he's getting kicks out of her, they're not.

"This too could be part of the.plan, part of the thrill, that added little zing they're getting, knowing that the big romance is building up as another part of the joke, to make it all the more delicious when they pull the rug out from underneath her.

"Be that as it may, suffice it to say that Randy's two playmates are temporarily out of it, as far as we know.

"Very temporarily.

"Patience is a virtue and these guys ain't got none.

"Virtues, that is.

"Which means that he can't string them along for very long before one of them—Cranston, probably, him being so good at making his case with Buck and all decides they're tired of waiting for the big yuk and can we have it now, to which he will doubtless reply sure why not anything for my ass hole buddies and like that."

"I still don't see what all that has to do with our knowing that Randy is downtown and on the job."

"Ah, but it has everything to do with it, Vanessa!

"Randy is downtown and so am I.

"Old enemies, old friends, all the same thing on the social calendar.

"We do not ignore one another here in the world of oxygen and sunlight.

"At night, in the dark, on paper, even, we plot one another's destruction.

"Face to face? Another matter entirely, my dears, don't you see?"

"Keep going, you're doing great—I guess."

"Marvel Industries and Buck Enterprises.

"Two gigantic, non-competitive endeavors whose chief executives know each other—better, perhaps, then either of us would like.

"Be that as it may, what do we mutually acquainted chief executives do when we're in town at the same time?"

"I know, teacher, I know," Nancy says, raising her hand and bouncing on the couch.

"Nancy?"

"You have lunch!"

"Exactly."

"Ya lost me," Vanessa says.

"I've come to a decision," Cynthia says.

"I'm going to pick the time for Buck and company to make their move on the girl."

"By having lunch?" Vanessa asks, her tone incredulous.

"I don't see how—"

"Just watch and listen."

Cynthia buzzes the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Get me Randy Buck, please, will you, Sandra? I believe he's at his downtown office."

And they wait until the intercom speaks.

"Mister Buck on line one, Baroness."

"Randy, darling!"

"Cynthia dearest!

"To what do I owe the honor of this call?"

"I was thinking, if you're in town all week and so am I, we could have lunch together, say... Friday?"

"Let me see now... Yes, the calendar is certainly in favor of that.

"Only—and I hope you won't think this terribly, shall we say, suspicious of me—but, well... , why?

"Surely not in order that you can gloat over past triumphs."

"Yours or mine, Randy?

"Randy, I don't know what you think or what you think that I think about our various, shall we say, shared adventures and misadventures, but your fortune, your health and your reputation, however undeservedly, remain very much intact."

"You've cost me several small fortunes, my dear."

"Poor baby!

"Now you've only got more money than you can ever spend in ten lifetimes instead often and a half!

"But then, that isn't what's really bothering you about our common past, is it?

"It isn't the money, it's the little worlds, the petite, private hells over which you once reigned supreme and which are no more that gripe you, correct?"

"Something like that," he admits.

"And you feel that causing their nonexistence affords me satisfaction, when in fact we came out even."

"How so?"

"Because, my dear, the destruction of your plots and arrangements was a side-effect of I and my companions barely escaping with our lives.

"As did you."

"As did I," he agrees.

"Never thought of it that way, but you do have a point. Interesting.

"Okay, so you promise not to gloat."

"Having nothing in particular to gloat about where you are concerned, that would seem an easy promise to keep."

"So then, back to the question before the house: Why?"

"If I said I missed you—"

"You'd be lying," he completes.

"So why don't you just level with me?"

"I wanted to discuss your... current activities."

"I'll send you my annual report."

"No, no. I mean your private activities.

"You know—hobbies, pastimes, like that."

"What do you, uh..."

"There, you see? Not something for over the phone, right?"

Big sigh at the other end.

Then, "Right."

Because he must pump her.

He must wheedle from her the sum and substance of what she knows and what she suspects.

Unlikely that she really knows anything, but then he has underestimated her before.

Face to face, he can use his powers of observation and judgment to gauge the extent of her knowledge, as opposed to attempts to probe, to see what she can discover from him.

No harm in a lunch, certainly.

So—

"Friday it is, then?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, why not?

"Shall we say Maison des Fleurs at one?"

"Looking forward to it."

"Me too."

"Ciao, then."

And she hangs up.

"Just what did that accomplish?" Vanessa asks.

"Two things.

"It slows him down enough that he won't try anything serious with the girl until after he has this chance to find out what I know, and, more importantly, it gives me the chance to push him over the edge, make him act precipitously after we have our little get-together.

"All I have to do is make him nervous enough and angry enough and he'll act to defy me, to score a point he thinks I can't prevent his getting."

"Which puts that girl in even more danger," Nancy observes.