The Sam Gunn Omnibus (127 page)

A long awkward silence
filled the sumptuous room. Sam kept staring at Jade, as if trying to fathom her
innermost secrets.

At last Indra said sharply,
“There are people here in Selene who would not want to allow Sam to gain
control of the orchestra.”

“The notorious Sam Gunn,”
Satay murmured.

“That’s why I’ve got to
be careful,” Sam said, still unable to take his eyes off Jade.

At last she found her voice.
“There’s also the Beryllium Blonde, isn’t there?”

Sam frowned. “La
Marlowe? She came all the way here to nail me with a phony breach of promise
suit.”

“Breach of promise?”
Indra’s dark eyes flashed.

“I never promised her
anything,” Sam said, patting her hand. “She’s just a lawyer trying to make an
ill-gotten buck.”

“What about Jill Meyers?”
Jade blurted.

Sam’s eyes snapped wide
with genuine surprise. “Jill’s here too?”

Realizing she had
blundered, Jade tried to retreat. “She’s got more claim to marriage than the
Blonde.”

With obvious irony,
Satay asked, “Sam, are you perhaps a Moslem? How many wives can you have?”

“That is not funny,
father,” said Indra.

Sam looked from father
to daughter and then back to Jade. “You can see why I have to be careful,” he muttered.

THE DINNER ENDED
on a definitely sour note. Jade excused herself at last
and headed back toward her apartment, two levels above the hotel. As she walked
disconsolately along the long, gray-walled corridor, she heard someone call her
name.

Turning, she saw it was
Sam pushing his way past a strolling elderly couple.

“Wait up a minute,” he
said, hurrying toward her. “You can’t just walk away from me, can you?”

“Not from you,” Jade
admitted. “It’s
just...”

“Just what?” He seemed sincerely
troubled that Jade was obviously so upset.

“You’re in real danger,
Sam,” she temporized. “Marlowe and Jill Meyers both intend to get you to marry
them. And Satay wants you to marry his daughter—or get out of her life.”

“I’ve been in trouble
before. I can handle it.”

“But why—”

“Look,” he said, waving
his arms as they walked along the nearly deserted corridor, “I cuddled up to
Indra so I could get to meet her father. I need Satay on my side to help
impress the committee that’s running the orchestra.”

“Impress the committee?”

“Those stuffed shirts
think I’ll steal the orchestra and take it to the other end of the Milky Way or
something. They don’t trust me!”

Jade started to laugh,
but then she saw that he seemed genuinely hurt.

She said, “Can you blame
them? Your reputation doesn’t put you on track for sainthood.”

“Aw, Jade! From you? You’ve
followed my life and you know what I’ve done: the good, the bad, and the so-so.
You think I’m a bum too?”

That made her smile. “No,
I don’t think you’re a bum, Sam.”

“Half the things I’ve
been blamed for I never did. Honest!” He clapped one hand to his heart and
raised the other over his head.

“The other half is quite
enough,” Jade countered. “You’re no saint, Sam.”

Breaking into a grin, he
replied, “Who wants to be?”

They were only a few meters
from Jade’s front door. As they walked up to it, Jade asked, “Sam, what’s your
real reason for wanting to buy the orchestra? And how can you handle it,
financially?”

“You going to invite me
in?” he asked, with a sly grin.

“No.”

“Scared?”

“Yes, but not in the way
you think.”

He cocked his head to
one side, his grin slowly vanishing. “Okay. I’ll answer your questions, but not
out here in the corridor.”

Jade knew she had to out-maneuver
him. Thinking swiftly, she said, “Let’s do lunch tomorrow. There’s somebody I want
you to meet.”

“Not the Blonde.”

“No.”

“Not Jill?”

Smiling, Jade said, “I want
you to meet Minerva La Guerre.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She’s heard of you,”
Jade said.

He shrugged. “Okay. Lunch
tomorrow. Where?”

“In her hotel suite. I’ll
set it up.”

“High noon,” he said.

“You’ll answer my
questions then?”

Another shrug. “We’ll
see.”

JADE GAVE SAM
a swift peck on his cheek, surprising him so thoroughly
that he stood there with his mouth hanging open while she ducked into her
apartment and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the door,
breathless. He’s my father! Jade told herself. I know it. I can feel it.

With a glance at the
security screen by the door she saw that Sam

was slowly walking back
up the corridor, in the direction they had come from.

Her insides trembling,Jade walked uncertainly to her desk. She sat tiredly
on the spindly little wheeled chair and stared at the phone’s blank display
screen. Then she nodded, her mind made up, and phoned Jill Meyers. After that,
she called the Beryllium Blonde.

JENNIFER MARLOWE WAS
smiling with lots of brilliant white teeth, but Jade
thought her eyes betrayed her true feelings: the Blonde was tense, wary,
suspicious.

Jill Meyers was the epitome of graciousness as she led Marlowe and Jade
across the sitting room of her suite and into the small dining area next to the
kitchen and the waiting robots. Jade followed behind them.

“You know,” Jill was saying, “I was asked to serve on the panel of judges
when Sam was being tried for genocide.”

“You were?” the Blonde said, her cornflower blue eyes taking in every
stick of furniture, every sparkle of jewelry that J
ill wore.

“I declined,” Jill said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “I was too emotionally
involved.”

“You would have voted to acquit Sam.”

Jill laughed. “I would have voted to have him hanged. Before the first
witness was called.”

Marlowe giggled appreciatively as she sat demurely on the chair Jill
in
dicated. Even
in zippered-up coveralls of baby blue, Jade thought, she couldn’t help looking
like a sexy centerfold model.

Once the three of them were seated and the serving robot had brought them
glasses of fruit juice, Jill said, “This meeting is Jade’s idea. Sam’s going to
be here in half an hour, so I suggest we get down to brass tacks.”

La Marlowe turned to Jade. “And just what do you hope to accomplish, Ms.
Inconnu?”

It’s Mrs. Johansen, Jade corrected silendy. But she let it go. Aloud, she
replied, “Two things: I want you to drop your suit against Sam, and I want Sam
to marry Jill.”

If either point surprised the Blonde she didn’t show it.

“How do you propose to do that?” she asked.

“I’ll need your help.”

Jill broke in, “Off the record, is there any real basis for your suit? I mean,
I’ve known Sam longer than both of you combined and I’ve never heard him utter
the word ‘marriage.’“

Marlowe smiled
enigmatically. “I have it all on disk. Sam promised to marry me.”

“Disks can be faked,”
Jade said.

“This one has been
authenticated,” Marlowe said calmly.

“By whom?”

“By two separate and
independent teams of analysts.”

“Hired by your law firm?”

Smiling again, with even
more teeth, Marlowe said, “Why, Ms.
I
nconnu,
that would be unethical, wouldn’t it?”

“How much?” asked Jill.

Jade was surprised by
the question. Marlowe simply widened her smile slightly.

“How much do you want to
drop your suit?” Jill asked. She looked slightly irritated, Jade thought.

“You’re a very wealthy
woman,” said Marlowe. “Old money is the best kind.”

“How much?”

“I’m sure a jury would
award me ten million, at least.”

Before Jill could reply,
Jade said, “Wait a minute. There’s something else involved here.”

“Something else?”

“What?”

Jade said, “Sam’s up to
something. He—”

“He’s
always
up to something,” said Marlowe.

“So what else is new?”
Jill quipped.

“Why is he trying to get
control of the orchestra?” Jill asked. “I mean, Sam doesn’t do things like that
without some ulterior motive.”

Both the women nodded
agreement.

“I wonder what he’s
really up to,” Jade murmured.

Jill grinned. “It must
be something convoluted, knowing Sam.”

Marlowe said, “Whatever
it is, he still has to deal with my breach of promise suit before he does
anything else.”

A silence fell upon
them. Jade realized that Jill hadn’t pursued her offer of settling Marlowe’s
suit, not since the sum of ten million dollars had been mentioned. That’s how
old money keeps its money, Jade thought. Philanthropy goes only so far.

“Why does he want the
orchestra?” Jade wondered again.

“Ask him when he gets
here,” said Jill Meyers.

“If he shows up
,
” Marlowe said. “I wouldn’t put it past him
to pull
an
other
disappearing act.”

“But he promised me!”
Jade protested.

Both the other women
stared at her. Marlowe said, “How can you be so naive? You’ve done all this
biographical research about Sam and you still think—”

The doorbell chimed.

For an instant none of
them moved. Then Jill said to the suite’s communications system, “Display entry
hall, please.”

A misty Japanese
landscape on the far wall of the dining alcove dissolved into an image of Sam
Gunn out in the entry hall. He was fidgeting nervously and whistling something
too low for Jade to make out.

“Hey, is anybody home?”
he shouted. “Have I got the right room number?”

Jade pushed away from
the table and sprinted toward the door. He could be halfway down the corridor
by the time I get there, she worried.

But when she slid the
door open, Sam Gunn was standing there, in slightly faded coveralls, a lopsided
gap-toothed grin on his round, freckled face.

“There you are,” he
said. “I was starting to worry.”

“It’s a big suite,” Jade
began to explain, “and we were back in—”

But Sam was looking past
her. Turning, Jade saw that the Blonde was standing in the middle of the
spacious living room.

“You!” Sam gasped.

“Hello, Sam,” said the
Blonde. Then she added, “Darling.”

Turning back to Jade,
Sam growled, “You’ve led me into a trap! How could you?”

“It’s not a trap, Sam,”
Jade said, struggling to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“You can’t hide from me
forever,” Marlowe said, moving toward Sam like a cobra slithering toward its
prey and sliding an arm in his. For his part, Sam stood there open-mouthed and
wide-eyed like a paralyzed mongoose.

Jade cleared her throat.
“Um, Sam, there’s someone else I want you to meet.”

Jill Meyers entered the
room, smiling almost shyly. “Hello, Sam.”

“My God!” Sam blurted. “I’m
surrounded by assassins!”

But he disengaged from
La Marlowe and went to Jill with open arms. “I thought so! I
knew
Minerva La Guerre had to be a phony name!”

“And you came anyway?”

“Sure,” Sam said
carelessly. “Why not?”

He gave Jill a hug;
then, with Jill on one arm and Marlowe on the other, he grinned at Jade and
asked, “So what’s this all about?”

“You promised to marry me,”
said Marlowe.

“You’ve promised to marry
me,” Jill Meyers said, “several times.”

“I never spoke the word ‘marriage’
to either of you and you both know it.”

“I have you on disk,
Sam,” Marlowe said.

“Yeah, along with
Godzilla, King Kong, and the Emperor Ming of Mongo.”

“You agreed to marry me,
Sam,” Jill repeated.

The Blonde insisted, “I’ve
got authenticated evidence—”

Jade wished she had a
referee’s whistle hanging around her neck. She raised both her hands and
shouted, “Wait! Hang on for a minute. This is getting us nowhere.”

Sam disengaged his arms
and bowed politely to her. “And just where do want us to go, Oh most beautiful
of producers?”

Jade pointed to the
long, low-slung sofa against the wall. “You sit there, please.” Turning to
Marlowe, “And you there, on the armchair.”