‘Angel, be patient. I’ve been to the doctor, and he told me I’m fine. Maybe you should have a checkup and see if you’re all right.’
Jeff went.
‘You should have no trouble producing healthy children,’ the doctor assured him.
And still nothing happened.
On Black Monday Jeff’s world fell apart. It started in the morning when he went into Louise’s medicine chest for an aspirin. He found a shelf full of birth control pills. One of the cases was almost empty. Lying innocently next to it was a vial of white powder and a small golden spoon. And that was only the start of the day.
At noon, Jeff was seated in a deep armchair in the Pilgrim Club, waiting for Budge to appear, when he heard two men behind him talking.
‘She swears that her Italian singer’s cock is over ten inches long.’
There was a snicker. ‘Well, Louise always liked them big.’
They’re talking about another Louise, Jeff told himself.
‘That’s probably why she married that carnival person in the first place. But she does tell the most amusing stories about him. You won’t believe what he did the other day …’
Jeff rose and blindly made his way out of the club.
He was filled with a rage such as he had never known. He wanted to kill. He wanted to kill the unknown Italian. He wanted to kill Louise. How many other men had she been sleeping with during the past year? They had been laughing at him all this time. Budge and Ed Zeller and Mike Quincy and Alan Thompson and their wives had been having an enormous joke at his expense. And Louise, the woman he had wanted to protect. Jeff’s immediate reaction was to pack up and leave. But that was not good enough. He had no intention of letting the bastards have the last laugh.
That afternoon when Jeff arrived home, Louise was not there. ‘Madame went out this morning,’ Pickens, the butler, said. ‘I believe she had several appointments.’
I’ll bet she did, Jeff thought. She’s out fucking that ten-inch-cock Italian. Jesus Christ!
By the time Louise arrived home, Jeff had himself under tight control. ‘Did you have a nice day?’ Jeff asked.
‘Oh, the usual boring things, darling. A beauty appointment, shopping … How was your day, angel?’
‘It was interesting,’ Jeff said truthfully. ‘I learned a lot.’
‘Budge tells me you’re doing beautifully.’
‘I am,’ Jeff assured her. ‘And very soon I’m going to be doing even better.’
Louise stroked his hand. ‘My bright husband. Why don’t we go to bed early?’
‘Not tonight,’ Jeff said. ‘I have a headache.’
He spent the next week making his plans.
He began at lunch at the club. ‘Do any of you know anything about computer frauds?’ Jeff asked.
‘Why?’ Ed Zeller wanted to know. ‘You planning to commit one?’
There was a sputter of laughter.
‘No, I’m serious,’ Jeff insisted. ‘It’s a big problem. People are tapping into computers and ripping off banks and insurance companies and other businesses for billions of dollars. It gets worse all the time.’
‘Sounds right up your alley,’ Budge murmured.
‘Someone I met has come up with a computer he says can’t be tampered with.’
‘And you want to have him knocked off,’ Mike Quincy kidded.
‘As a matter of fact, I’m interested in raising money to back him. I just wondered if any of you might know something about computers.’
‘No,’ Budge grinned, ‘but we know everything about backing inventors, don’t we fellas?’
There was a burst of laughter.
Two days later at the club, Jeff passed by the usual table and explained to Budge, ‘I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you fellows today. I’m having a guest for lunch.’
When Jeff moved to another table, Alan Thompson grinned, ‘He’s probably having lunch with the bearded lady from the circus.’
A stooped, grey-haired man entered the dining room and was ushered to Jeff’s table.
‘Jesus!’ Mike Quincy said. ‘Isn’t that Professor Ackerman?’
‘Who’s Professor Ackerman?’
‘Don’t you ever read anything but financial reports, Budge? Vernon Ackerman was on the cover of Time last month. He’s chairman of the President’s National Scientific Board. He’s the most brilliant scientist in our country.’
‘What the hell is he doing with my dear brother-in-law?’
Jeff and the professor were engrossed in a deep conversation all during lunch, and Budge and his friends grew more and more curious. When the professor left, Budge motioned Jeff over to his table.
‘Hey, Jeff. Who was that?’
Jeff looked guilty. ‘Oh … you mean Vernon?’
‘Yeah. What were you two talking about?’
‘We … ah …’ The others could almost watch Jeff’s thought processes as he tried to dodge the question. ‘I … ah … might write a book about him. He’s a very interesting character.’
‘I didn’t know you were a writer.’
‘Well, I guess we all have to start sometime.’
Three days later Jeff had another luncheon guest. This time it was Budge who recognized him. ‘Hey! That’s Seymour Jarrett, chairman of the board of Jarrett International Computer. What the hell would he be doing with Jeff?’
Again, Jeff and his guest held a long, animated conversation. When the luncheon was over, Budge sought Jeff out.
‘Jeffrey, boy, what’s with you and Seymour Jarrett?’
‘Nothing,’ Jeff said quickly. ‘Just having a chat.’ He started to walk away. Budge stopped him.
‘Not so fast, old buddy. Seymour Jarrett is a very busy fellow. He doesn’t sit around having long chats about nothing.’
Jeff said earnestly, ‘All right. The truth is, Budge, that Seymour collects stamps, and I told him about a stamp I might be able to acquire for him.’
The truth, my ass, Budge thought.
The following week, Jeff lunched at the Club with Charles Bartlett, the president of Bartlett & Bartlett, one of the largest private capital venture groups in the world. Budge, Ed Zeller, Alan Thompson, and Mike Quincy watched in fascination as the two men talked, their heads close together.
‘Your brother-in-law is sure in high-flying company lately,’ Zeller commented. ‘What kind of deal has he got cooking, Budge?’
Budge said testily, ‘I don’t know, but I’m sure in hell going to find out. If Jarrett and Bartlett are interested, there must be a pot of money involved.’
They watched as Bartlett rose, enthusiastically pumped Jeff’s hand, and left. As Jeff passed their table, Budge caught his arm. ‘Sit down, Jeff. We want to have a little talk with you.’
‘I should get back to the office,’ Jeff protested. ‘I –’
‘You work for me, remember? Sit down.’ Jeff sat. ‘Who were you having lunch with?’
Jeff hesitated. ‘No