[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Could Hope help?
'The poor son of a bitch,' said Hope cheerfully. 'Christ, what
it must be doing to Stan to be staying with Jerome! He hates
him. Jerome is everything the academic despises. Jerome is a
lawyer, a highly successful lawyer. He makes a mint; he has spent
his life making a mint. Well, okay. But their father had no trouble
expressing his delight in Jerome and his sorrow in Stan. Stan
must have had an aberrant gene. Scholarship? How many bucks
can be made out of scholarship? Stan was a nebbish. What was
the matter with him? Jerome was the darling, the kid who made
it big. So okay. But Stan himself eventually made it big, a name
more easily recognised than Jerome's.
'Jerome has always loved his kid brother. He's always been
intensely proud of him, sorta like a Catholic whose kid brother
becomes a priest. Know what I mean?' She took a sip of wine.
'Hmmm. I wouldn't want to carry that analogy too far. Jerome's
stricdy kosher, a pillar of his synagogue. But anyway, old man Kops
died before Stan was a personality, the parental pickle business going
down the tubes, his widow moving in with Jerome. Luckily all
around, she's dead too now. But still . . . Meanwhile, Stan never
got to prove himself. His father took a picture of a schmuck with
him to the grave.' Hope chuckled, and speared a shrimp from her
cocktail. 'You got a pen handy? Here's Jerome's telephone number
in Connecticut.' She took out a battered address book.
82
'Have you ever considered why all Stan's subjects have trouble
with their fathers? Because Stan had trouble with his. Look at
the biographies. Each of his subjects is reshaped on Stan's own
custom-designed template, "One Size Fits All". My own view,
of course, is biased, but I think old man Kops had it right: Stan
is a schmuck. The best thing he ever did for me was to move
out. Believe me, post-Stan we're talking more than twenty-
five years now my life is much improved.'
Her voice took on momentarily a spark of anger. 'I was a
much better scholar than he was, much better, the schmuck.'
Then, as if laughing at herself, she took on a New York aden-
oidal accent, imitating Brando: 'I coulda bin a contenda.'
She sighed. 'So he got rid of a wife and got himself an agent
for free. A real bargain. In the end, his father would've been
proud.' Her eyes misted over and she seemed to gaze quite through
me. 'But I gotta tell you, Robin, when he was good, he was very,
very good.'
'Oh? In what way was he good?'
'Hrrrmm?'
'I said, in what way was he good?'
She actually blushed. 'I can't tell you that! Besides, it's none
of your business!'
* * *
'STAN?'
' No, this is his brother, Jerry.'
'Ah, Mr Kops. I'm Robin Sinclair, an old, old friend of your
brother's. I wonder if I might have a word with him, please.'
'I'll see if I can find him. Hold on, okay?'
But it was Saskia who, after a considerable interval, came to
the phone. 'Robin? You've heard what happened to Stan, of
course?'
83
'Absolutely appalling. How is he, poor old chap?'
'Bearing up, I guess you'd say. The flesh is healing, sure, but
the spirit, well, we'll have to see. You'll understand if he can't
come to the phone, right? Thanks for calling, though. I'll be sure
and tell him.'
'Actually Saskia, I'm also phoning on behalf of Cyril Entwistle.
He's read about what happened to Stan, and quite naturally he's
concerned. He's asked me to find out what I can about Stan's
condition how his health, to put it bluntly, might affect their
collaboration on the biography. He's also worried by the thought
that documents of his, letters, photographs, and so on, might fall
into (no pun intended) unauthorised hands. What should I tell
him?'
The only sound from the other end was that of Saskia
breathing.
'Saskia?'
' Do you know Entwistle, Robin?'
Just what I'd hoped to avoid! 'Our paths have crossed from
time to time, social circles overlapping, that sort of thing.'
'And yet he knows you well enough to ask a personal favour?'
'Entwisde isn't shy. He rather thinks the rest of us are here
specifically to grant him personal favours.'
'Just a second, okay?' She had put her hand over the receiver.
Stan must have been there all along. I heard a background mum-
bling. And then, 'D'you think you could come on out here to
Jerry's place in the country, I mean, Robin even if only for a
short visit? Stan would really like that, really he would. He thinks
it'd cheer him up. He's always been fond of you, you know that.'
Well, well, well. Stan (or Saskia) evidently thought I might
prove useful.
'It's not going to be possible. I leave for London the day after
tomorrow' Ah, but it was a pity, though, a lost opportunity to
see Saskia. Could I extend my stay again?
Her hand once more went over the receiver; in the back-
ground I heard the mumble of three distinct voices.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]