按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
o for the first time in his life。 Listening to his classmates talk easily about New York； about '21' and the Stork Club； about seeing Brubeck at Basin Street and Erroll Garner at the Vanguard； he'd sweated to hide his ignorance。 'I really like the downtown part；' he'd thrown in； as casually as he could。 Palms wet； cramped by curled…in fingers。 （Mornings； Sloat often found his palms tattooed with dented bruises left by his fingernails。） 'What downtown part； Morgan？' Tom Woodbine had asked him。 The others cackled。 'You know； Broadway and the Village。 Around there。' More cackles； harsher。 He had been unattractive and badly dressed； his wardrobe consisted of two suits； both charcoal…gray and both apparently made for a man with a scarecrow's shoulders。 He had begun losing his hair in high school； and pink scalp showed through his short； flattened…down haircuts。
No； no beauty had Sloat been； and that had been part of it。 The others made him feel like a clenched fist： those morning bruises were shadowy little photographs of his soul。 The others； all interested in the theater like himself and Sawyer； possessed good profiles； flat stomachs； easy careless manners。 Sprawled across the lounge chairs of their suite in Davenport while Sloat； in a haze of perspiration； stood that he might not wrinkle his suit pants and thereby get a few more days' wear out of them； they sometimes resembled a gathering of young gods…cashmere sweaters draped over their shoulders like the golden fleece。 They were on their way to being actors； playwrights； songwriters。 Sloat had seen himself as a director： entangling them all in a net of plications and designs which only he could unwind。
Sawyer and Tom Woodbine； both of whom seemed unimaginably rich to Sloat； were roommates。 Woodbine had only a lukewarm interest in theater and hung around their undergraduate drama workshop because Phil did。 Another gilded private…school boy； Thomas Woodbine differed from the others because of his absolute seriousness and straightforwardness。 He intended to bee a lawyer； and already seemed to have the probity and impartiality of a judge。 （In fact； most of Woodbine's acquaintances imagined that he would wind up on the Supreme Court； much to the embarrassment of the boy himself。） Woodbine was without ambition in Sloat's terms； being interested far more in living rightly than in living well。 Of course he had everything； and what he by some accident lacked other people were quick to give him： how could he； so spoiled by nature and friendships； be ambitious？ Sloat almost unconsciously detested Woodbine； and could not bring himself to call him 'Tommy。'
Sloat directed two plays during his four years at Yale： No Exit； which the student paper called 'a furious confusion；' and Volpone。 This was described as 'churning； cynical； sinister； and almost unbelievably messy。' Sloat was held responsible for most of these qualities。 Perhaps he was not a director after all…his vision too intense and crowded。 His ambitions did not lessen； they merely shifted。 If he was not eventually to be behind the camera； he could be behind the people in front of it。 Phil Sawyer had also begun to think this way…Phil had never been certain where his love of theater might take him； and thought he might have a talent for representing actors and writers。 'Let's go to Los Angeles and start an agency；' Phil said to him in their senior year。 'It's nutty as hell and our parents will hate it； but maybe we'll make it work。 So we starve for a couple of years。'
Phil Sawyer； Sloat had learned since their freshman year； was not rich after all。 He just looked rich。
'And when we can afford him； we'll get Tommy to be our lawyer。 He'll be out of law school by then。'
'Sure； okay；' Sloat had said； thinking that he could stop that one when the time came。 'What should we call ourselves？'
'Anything you like。 Sloat and Sawyer？ Or should we stick to the alphabet？'
'Sawyer and Sloat； sure； that's great； alphabetical order；' Sloat said； seething because he imagined that his partner had euchred him into forever suggesting that he was somehow secondary to Sawyer。
Both sets of parents did hate the idea； as Phil had predicted； but the partners in the infant talent agency drove to Los Angeles in the old DeSoto （Morgan's； another demonstration of how much Sawyer owed him）； set up an office in a North Hollywood building with a happy population of rats and fleas； and started hanging around the clubs； passing out their spandy…new business cards。 Nothing…nearly four months of total failure。 They had a ic who got too drunk to be funny； a writer who couldn't write； a stripper who insisted on being paid in cash so that she could stiff her agents。 And then late one afternoon； high on marijuana and whiskey； Phil Sawyer had gigglingly told Sloat about the Territories。
'You know what I can do； you ambitious so…and…so？ Oh； can I travel； partner。 All the way。'
Shortly after that； both of them travelling now； Phil Sawyer met a rising young actress at a studio party and within an hour had their first important client。 And she had three friends similarly unhappy with their agents。 And one of the friends had a boyfriend who had actually written a decent filmscript and needed an agent； and the boyfriend had a boyfriend 。 。 。 Before their third year was over； they had a new office； new apartments； a slice of the Hollywood pie。 The Territories； in a fashion that Sloat accepted but never understood； had blessed them。
Sawyer dealt with the clients； Sloat with the money； the investments； the business side of the agency。 Sawyer spent money…lunches； airplane tickets…Sloat saved it； which was all the justification he needed to skim a little of the cream off the top。 And it was Sloat who kept pushing them into new areas； land development； real estate； production deals。 By the time Tommy Woodbine arrived in Los Angeles； Sawyer & Sloat was a multimillion…dollar business。
Sloat discovered that he still detested his old classmate； Tommy Woodbine had put on thirty pounds； and looked and acted； in his blue three…piece suits； more than ever like a judge。 His cheeks were always slightly flushed （alcoholic？ Sloat wondered）； his manner still kindly and ponderous。 The world had left its marks on him…clever little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes； the eyes themselves infinitely more guarded than those of the gilded boy at Yale。 Sloat understood almost at once； and knew that Phil Sawyer would never see it unless he were told； that Tommy Woodbine lived with an enormous secret： whatever the gilded boy might have been； Tommy was now a homosexual。 Probably he'd call himself gay。 And that made everything easier…in the end； it even made it easier to get rid of Tommy。
Because queers are always getting killed； aren't they？ And did anybody really want a two…hundred…and…ten…pound pansy responsible for bringing up a teenage boy？ You could say that Sloat was just saving Phil Sawyer from the posthumous consequences of a serious lapse of judgment。 If Sawyer had made Sloat the executor of his estate and the guardian of his son； there would have been no problems。 As it was； the murderers from the Territories…the same two who had bungled the abduction of the boy…had blasted through a stoplight and nearly been arrested before they could return home。
Things all would have been so much simpler； Sloat reflected for perhaps the thousandth time； if Phil Sawyer had never married。 If no Lily； no Jack； if no Jack； no problems。 Phil may never even have looked at the reports about Lily Cavanaugh's early life Sloat had piled： they listed where and how often and with whom； and should have killed that romance as readily as the black van turned Tommy Woodbine into a lump on the road。 If Sawyer read those meticulous reports； they left him amazingly unaffected。 He wanted to marry Lily Cavanaugh； and he did。 As his damned Twinner had married Queen Laura。 More underestimation。 And repaid in the same fashion； which seemed fitting。
Which meant； Sloat thought with some satisfaction； that after a few details were taken care of； everything would finally be settled。 After so many years…when he came back from Arcadia Beach； he should have all of Sawyer & Sloat in his pocket。 And in the Territories； all was placed just so： poised on the brink； ready to fall into Morgan's hands。 As soon as the Queen died； her consort's former deputy would rule the country； introducing all the interesting little changes both he and Sloat desired。 And then watch the money roll in。 Sloat thought； turning off the freeway into Marina del Rey。 Then watch everything roll in！
His client； Asher Dondorf； lived in the bottom half of a new condo in one of the Marina's narrow； alleylike streets just off the beach。 Dondorf was an old character actor who had achieved a surprising level of prominence and visibility in the late seventies through a role on a television series； he'd played the landlord of the young couple…private detectives； and both cute as baby pandas…who were the series' stars。 Dondorf got so much mail from his few appearances in the early episodes that the writers increased his part； making him an unofficial father to the young detectives； letting him solve a murder or