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Authors: Harold Robbins

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BOOK: Where Love Has Gone
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“That goes for me, too, Colonel,” the AP man said quickly. “You have my sympathy, sir, and if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.”

We shook hands and they walked away. I turned to Gordon. “Now, what?”

He looked down at his watch, then back at me. “I have to get back to my office. I’ll be jammed up all afternoon. Where can I reach you about six?”

“I’ll be at the motel.”

“Good. I’ll call you there and we’ll set a time to finish our talk.” He smiled suddenly. “I was right, you know. You are a good man to have around in a squeeze. You did very well back there.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did. You reacted just right. You’ve gotten every legitimate reporter on our side.” The way he said it got me. “Legitimate? What kind of a reporter made that stupid crack?”

He grinned. “That wasn’t a reporter, that was my chauffeur. For a moment I was worried that he wouldn’t get here in time.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. I should have known. They didn’t call him lawyer man for nothing.

He opened the door of his car. “That reminds me. Here are your keys. Your car is parked down the street. I’ll pick my man up a few blocks from here. I didn’t want to take a chance on anyone recognizing him.”

I took the keys from his outstretched hand and watched as he got into his car. I stood there for a moment until his car disappeared around the side of the building, then slowly began to walk towards my car.

I passed by a wire fence behind which were a series of long green quonset-type huts. I reached out and touched the wire and stood there for a while. Somewhere inside that fence was my daughter. I began to feel emptier and emptier. She must be so alone.

I wondered if Nora felt all the same things about Dani that I did. Then, in the insidious way she had of stealing my thoughts, Nora took over and it was the past I was thinking of.

9

__________________________________________

The three weeks left of my leave was our honeymoon. And in a way, I guess, they were our marriage too. For it was almost two years before I got back. The war had been over a year by then, and we were never able to pick up where we’d left off.

Nora hadn’t come down to the airport to see me off because she didn’t like goodbyes. Nor was she at the airport when I returned. But her mother was.

The old lady was standing on the field when I came down the ramp. No waiting in the terminal for her. She held out her hand. “Luke, welcome home. It’s good to have you back.”

I kissed her cheek. “It’s good to be back,” I said. “Where’s Nora?”

“I’m sorry, Luke. Your cable didn’t arrive until yesterday. She’s in New York.” “New York?”

“Tonight is the opening of her first postwar show. We didn’t have any idea that you were returning.” She read the disappointment in my face. “Nora was very upset when I told her about your wire on the phone. She wants you to call her as soon as we get to the house.”

I grinned wryly. It figured. Just like everything else the last year. Each time I thought I was getting out something came up and I had to stay on. I’d have been better off if they’d never made me a chicken colonel and transferred me to general staff. All the other men that I’d flown with had been out for six months.

“Is she all right?” I asked. Nora hadn’t been exactly the most faithful correspondent in the world. I was lucky if I averaged one letter a month from her. If it hadn’t been for her mother I’d have been completely out of touch. The old lady wrote me regularly, at least once a week.

“She’s fine. She’s been working very hard to get ready for this show. But you know Nora.” She looked at me quizzically. “She wouldn’t have it any other way. She always has to keep busy.”

“Yeah.”

She took my arm. “Let’s go to the car. Charles will fetch your luggage.”

We made a lot of small talk on the way home. I had the impression that the old lady was more nervous than she showed on the surface. In a way that was normal. This was really the first chance we’d had to test our new relationship. I felt kind of strained myself.

“Scaasi’s number is on the desk in the library, next to the telephone,” she said as we came into the house.

She followed the butler up the stairs with my bags and I went into the library. The slip of paper was exactly where she’d said it would be. I picked up the telephone and gave the number to the

operator. The call didn’t take long to get through.

“Scaasi’s Gallery,” a voice said. In the background I could hear a great deal of noise, people talking.

“Miss Hayden, please.” “Who’s calling, please?”

“This is her husband calling from San Francisco,” I said. “Just a moment, please. I’ll try to locate her.”

I waited for what seemed an interminable time. After a while the voice came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hayden. I can’t seem to find her.”

Mr. Hayden
. That was the first time I’d heard that. It wouldn’t be the last though. After a while I would get sick of it, but at the moment it was amusing.

“Carey’s the name,” I said. “Is Sam Corwin around?” “I’ll see. Just a moment.”

A moment later Sam was on the phone. “Luke, old boy. Welcome home.” “Thank you, Sam. Where’s Nora?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “She was around her a minute ago. She was waiting for your call. You know how an opening is. Maybe she went out to eat. She hasn’t all day. Things have been really hectic here.”

“I can imagine. How’s it going?’

“Great. Scaasi had already sold most of the important pieces before the show opened. He’s working on some very important commissions for Nora.”

There wasn’t much else to say. “Have her call me as soon as she can.” I looked at my watch. It was six o’clock here, which would make it nine in New York. “I’ll be here all evening.”

“Sure thing, Luke. You’re at Nora’s mother’s house?” “That’s right.”

“I’ll have her call as soon as I locate her.” “Thanks, Sam.” I said. “Goodbye.”

I put down the telephone and walked out of the library. Mrs. Hayden was waiting in the foyer. “Did you talk to Nora?”

“No. She’d gone out to dinner.”

My mother-in-law didn’t seem surprised. “I told her you’d call about six.”

I found myself defending Nora. “She’s had a rough day, Sam says. You know how those New York openings are.”

She looked as if she were about to say something then seemed to change her mind. “You must be exhausted after your flight. Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up? Dinner will be served shortly.”

I went up to my room while she went into the library and closed the door behind her. What I didn’t know then was that she called Sam right back.

He picked up the telephone wearily, knowing who it would be. “Yes, Mrs. Hayden.” The old lady’s voice was sharp and angry. “Where’s my daughter?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Hayden.”

“I thought I told you to make sure she’d be there to take his call.”

“I gave Nora your message, Mrs. Hayden. She said she would. Then I looked for her and she was gone.”

“Where is she?” the old lady repeated. “I told you. I don’t know.”

“Then find her. Right away. And tell her that I want her to call home immediately!” “Yes, Mrs. Hayden.”

“And I want her on the next plane out here! You make sure she’s on it. Do you understand that, Mr. Corwin?” Her voice had a cold, steely quality.

“Yes, Mrs. Hayden.” The phone clicked off in his hand. Slowly he put it down. He massaged his temples wearily. He had all the makings of a good headache. Nora could be at any one of a hundred different places.

He pushed through the crowd into the night. Fifty-seventh Street was almost empty. He looked up and down the street, mentally tossing a coin. After a moment he made up his mind. He crossed the street and began to walk downtown on Park Avenue. If he had to start someplace he might as well begin at the top and work his way down. El Morocco was as good a place as any.

Then the bright lights of a drugstore beckoned him as he crossed Lexington on Fifty-fourth Street.

Acting on impulse he went in and called a private detective he knew.

It was after two in the morning when they finally caught up with her. In a third-floor walkup down on Eighth Street in the Village.

“This must be it,” the detective said. He sniffed the air. “You can get high just standing out here!”

Sam knocked at the door. She had to be here. She’d met the boy at a bar on Eighth Avenue where unemployed actors hung out. Sam was surprised to learn that she’d been seeing him almost constantly since they’d arrived in New York. And he’d thought he had every moment of her time accounted for.

After a moment, there was a voice on the other side of the door. “Go away. I’m busy.” Sam knocked again.

This time the voice was angry. “I said beat it! I’m busy.”

The detective measured the door with his eye, then placed his foot squarely against the lock. He didn’t seem to push very hard, but the door flew open with a vicious splintering crash.

A young man came charging at them from out of the darkness. Again the detective didn’t seem to

move very quickly, but suddenly he was between Sam and the young man and the young man was on the floor. He glared up at them, his hand nursing his chin.

“Is Nora Hayden here?” Sam asked.

“There’s nobody here by that name,” the young man said quickly.

Sam looked at him for a moment without speaking, then stepped over him and started for the other door. Before he reached it it opened.

Nora stood in the doorway, completely nude, a cigarette between her lips. “Sam, baby.” She laughed. “Come down to join the party? Things must be getting a little dull uptown along about now.” She turned her back and started back into the room. “Come on in,” she called over her shoulder. “There’s enough tea in here for the whole Mexican Army.”

Sam moved after her quickly and spun her around. He pulled the cigarette from her mouth and threw it on the floor. The acrid smell of the marijuana was strong in his nostrils. “Get your clothes on.”

“What for?” she asked truculently. “You’re going home.”

She began to laugh. “Home, sweet home. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”

Sam’s hand flashed against her face. The resounding slap sent her reeling back. “Get dressed, I said!”

“Wait a minute!” The young man was on his feet now. He hitched at his tight black trousers as he walked toward Sam. “You can’t do that! You her husband or something?”

Nora began to laugh again. “That’s a good one. My husband? He’s just a watchdog my mother hired. My husband’s five thousand miles away!”

“Your husband is home. He just got in tonight. He’s been trying to reach you.”

“He’s been away two years. A few days more or less shouldn’t make any difference.” “Maybe you didn’t hear what I said,” Sam said quietly. “Luke is home.”

Nora stared at him. “Great. When do we hold the parade?”

Suddenly her face began to turn white and she rushed to the bathroom. Sam could hear her heaving and retching, then the toilet flushed and the water began to run in the basin.

After a few minutes she came out, still holding a wet towel to her face. “I’m sick, Sam, I’m sick.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “Nobody does. Do you know what it’s like to go to bed alone night after night, wanting it and not being able to have it?”

“It’s not that important.”

“Maybe not to you!” she said angrily. “But after I’m through working I’m all keyed up. I can’t sleep. I have to do something to unwind!”

“Did you ever try a cold shower?”

“Very funny!” she said. “Do you think all those things I do come out of here?” She touched her forehead. “Well, they don’t! They come out of here!” She touched her naked body. “That’s where they come from, and every time I feel a little bit emptier. And I have to get something back to fill me up again! Do you understand that, Mr. Art Critic?”

Sam gestured to her clothing lying on the rumpled bed. “Get dressed. Your mother wants you to call Luke right away.”

She looked at him strangely. “Does Mother know?”

He looked at her steadily. “Your mother’s always known. She told me the day I agreed to take you on.”

She sank to the bed. “She never said anything to me.” “Would it have done any good if she had?”

The tears began to well up in Nora’s eyes. “I can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t go back!” “Yes, you can. Your mother told me to put you on a plane after you called Luke.”

She looked up at him. “She said that?” “Yes.”

“What about Luke? Does he know too?”

“As far as I know, he doesn’t. I gather your mother wants to keep it that way.”

Nora sat silently for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Do you think I can make it? Now that Luke’s home I won’t be alone nights anymore.”

She reached for her clothing and began to dress. “Do you think you can get me on a plane tonight?” She sounded like a breathless, excited child.

“I’ll get you on the first plane out.”

She was happy now, smiling. “I’ll be a good wife to him, you’ll see!” She shrugged into her brassiere and turned her back to him. “Hook me up, Sam.”

He went over and fastened her brassiere. She slipped into her dress and went back into the bathroom. When she came out a few minutes later, she looked as fresh and clean as if she had just stepped from her morning shower.

She came over to him and suddenly reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Sam, for finding me. I was afraid to go back. Afraid to face him. But I know it will be all right now. I wanted you to find me and you did.”

He looked down at her face for a moment, then shrugged.

“If you wanted me to find you, why didn’t you leave a message?”

“It had to be like this,” she said. “Or it wouldn’t have mattered. Somebody besides myself had to know.”

He opened the door. “Let’s go.”

She went into the other room and through the outer door without a look at the young man who sat in the chair.

10

__________________________________________

Charles put the orange juice on the table in front of me. It was a couple of months later. I picked the glass up and began to drink as my mother-in-law came into the room.

BOOK: Where Love Has Gone
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