The old man had a nose like a bird dog. If he smelled beer on his breath, there was sure to be a scene about drunken driving when he got home.

[FOUR]

"Edgewater"

Malibu, California

1815 Hours 1 November 1942

With surprising grace, Veronica Wood ran through the sand from the water to the stairs, making Jake wonder again how women did that. Whenever he ran on sand, it was all he could do to keep from falling on his ass.

She came to him and bent over and kissed him. Then she pointed at his scotch. "Get me one of those, will you?" she said.

While he took care of that, she went to the shower on the porch, closed the curtain, and turned the water on. He pushed the button for Alejandro; and when he came, he told him to bring the bottle and some glasses and ice and the siphon bottle.

"No siphon," Alejandro said.

"You broke it?"

"The things, they are no more," Alejandro said, holding his thumb and index fingers three inches apart, to mime a CO2 cartridge. "What you call them, 'cartridges'?"

Do you? Cartridges? Cartridges are something you load in a weapon. I guess you do.

"Don't we have any bottles of soda?"

"Is same thing?"

"Just about," Jake said.

"I get," Alejandro said.

Veronica Wood's bathing suit came flying over the top of the shower curtain. Jake imagined an entirely pleasant picture of what was behind the curtain.

Jake found a cigar in his blouse and lit it.

Veronica pushed the shower curtain aside, wrapped herself in her towel, and walked over and sat on his lap. Once she'd made herself comfortable, she kissed him wetly on the mouth.

"Goddamn, now I'll have to have my pants pressed. You're soaking!"

"I'm not worth it to you to have your goddamned pants pressed? Go to hell!"

"I don't know if you know this or not, but when you sit down wearing a towel, people can see everything you've got-Alejandro, for example."

"Why do I think Poppa has had a bad day?" Veronica asked.

"Because it was a bitch," he said. "I now know what the Marine Corps does when they get stuck with idiot officers; they put them in public relations."

"You're in public relations, Poppa. What does that make you?"

"An idiot," he said, and laughed. "How was your day?"

"We looped, all goddamn day," she said. "Jean Jansen can't remember her lines when she's reading them from a script. And Janos, of course, had to be there.... It was the first time I ever looped anything, of course, and he had to tell me how to do it."

"You're almost finished, aren't you?"

"We were supposed to be finished today. I told that pansy sonofabitch to get one of his boyfriends to dub it for me, if he can't finish it by noon tomorrow."

"You didn't really?"

"No. I wanted to. But I knew that if I did, he'd throw a hysterical fit, and we'd be in there for the rest of the week. I did tell him I don't give a good goddamn how inconvenient it is, or who else he has to reschedule, if he can't finish my part by tomorrow, I'm going to get sick."

Alejandro opened the balcony door, and Veronica quickly slid out of Jake's lap.

"I wish you hadn't said what you did about the towel," she said. "Not that he hasn't seen something like that before."

"Something similar, maybe," Jake said, "but not something like that."

"Aren't you sweet!"

"Alejandro, I don't care if the Pope calls, I'm not here," Jake said.

"Si, Se¤or Jake. You eat here?"

"What have we got to eat?"

"We got fish for broil, and a piece pork. Can either roast or make chops?"

"Honey?" Jake asked.

"What did you call me?"

"Slip of the tongue," Jake said.

"Your tongue never slips, Jake, my darling," she said, and turned to Alejandro. "Whichever is easiest, Alejandro."

"Si, se¤ora."

He left.

"What did he call me? 'Senora'?"

"Si, Se¤ora."

"What does that mean in Spanish?"

"Lady Who Goes Around In Towel Showing Everything."

"It means 'Missus,' not 'Miss,' you bastard."

"Slip of the tongue."

"I like that: 'Se¤ora Dillon.' How does that sound to you?"

"Don't start that kind of thing now," Dillon said.

"Why not? You've got a wife or something I don't know about?"

"Just to keep the record clear. No wife. Ex or otherwise."

"Then why not?"

"Come on, Veronica."

"If it's supposed to be so goddamned self-evident, how come I don't understand?"

The telephone rang.

Now I'm sorry I told him to say I'm not here. What I need right now is an interruption.

"Jake?"

Alejandro appeared, carrying a telephone with a very long cord.

"Is four eleven, Senor Jake," he said, handing him the handset and setting the base down on the table beside him.

"I thought you told him no calls."

"This is my private line," he said, and then, "Hello?"

"Jake, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," said James Allwood Maxwell, Chairman of the Board of Metro-Magnum Studios, Inc.

"How are you, Jim? Of course not."

"Who is that?" Veronica asked, and tried to put her ear to the handset.

"Jake, there were those on the board who thought I was carrying corporate loyalty a step too far when I announced we would continue you on full salary when you went in uniform...."

What the hell is this? What comes next? "We've had a bad year, and there's nothing I can do about it. I tried. But New York, those bastards say there is no way we can justify that nonproducing expense any longer"? Shit, that's all I need. What The Corps is paying me won't pay the taxes on this place. I'll have to let Alejandro and Maria go. What the hell will they do? Shit!