Johnnie Read online

  Magda remarked while she did repair work, “You’re a nasty little twirp and you always were.” She replaced the mirror and lipstick in her purse. “See you later, Rupe.” She sailed out of the room like a queen on a hurry call.

  Trudy stood aside for her to pass. She made a good Bronx sound before Magda was out of the doorway. The way she slammed the door after her nearly jiggled the book off Johnnie’s lap.

  “Now see here, baby mine,” Ruprecht began.

  Trudy stomped. “I’m not your baby. Definitely not. I knew you’d wolf after almost anything in skirts but I did think you’d draw the line at that one.”

  “Now, honey.”

  “And don’t honey me!” Trudy shouted. “Honey her. I don’t care. You know she’s a no-good slut but if that’s what you want you can have it. All I want is to know why you invited Rudo here tonight.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did. After you promised you’d stay out of the picture. You swore to me you wouldn’t try to see him.”

  “I swore I didn’t want to see him. I still don’t. He makes me sick to the entrails. And you swore you’d keep him out of my sight. Then the whole passel of you escort him here with a guard of honor.”

  “You invited him.”

  “I did not, baby mine.”

  “He phoned you. You said come to the party. You knew he wouldn’t turn down a party. Has he ever?”

  “Where do you get such silly ideas, Toots?”

  “From Rudo himself.”

  “He’s a filthy liar. He always was.”

  “Yes? How would he know there was a party at Furry’s house if he hadn’t phoned you from the station? He just got in tonight. He’s been on a train for days. How could he know if you didn’t invite him to come?”

  Johnnie had forgotten caution. He watched this openly, caramel éclair in hand and mouth. It looked as if she’d pop Rupe any minute. She was mad enough. And she was closing in.

  “I give you my word, Trudy. He couldn’t have called me. I was with some friends at Twenty-One. I didn’t get back here until the party was started.” He decided, “It must have been Furry who invited him. I didn’t have a chance to chat with him until you and yours barged in.”

  “Ferenz wouldn’t. He refused to put up the money to bring Rudolph to New York unless Dorp promised he shouldn’t have to lay eyes on him. He wouldn’t invite him.”

  “He would if Rudo called up and announced himself. You know Furry. Etiquette. Didn’t you have anyone watching Rudolph?”

  “Janssen.”

  “That robot. Where was Otto?”

  “He’d come up to the house earlier with Dorp to make last arrangements. Rupe, we’ve got to get Rudo out of here.”

  Ruprecht was lighting a cigarette. “Take him, my little love. I don’t want him.”

  “You’ll have to help. And I’m not your love. What are you doing here?”

  That last question wasn’t to Ruprecht. It was delivered with gusto and without pleasure. Johnnie spoke through his éclair. “Who me?”

  “Who else?” She came around, Ruprecht following, until she stood in front of Johnnie. He couldn’t get to his feet without dropping the encyclopedia on hers. He just sat there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m reading the encyclopedia.” Johnnie’s dignity was marred by the mouthful of goo. “At least I was,” he swallowed. “I was before the row started.”

  “Who’s he?” Ruprecht pointed. “One of Dorp’s men?”

  “Yes,” Trudy said.

  “No,” Johnnie said.

  A discreet knock on the door ended that one. After the knock came Theo. He made a jerky bow. “His Royal Highness wishes you upstairs in the ballroom.”

  “Tell him to go boil his head,” Ruprecht said pleasantly.

  Theo’s pasty face grew paler at sacrilege.

  “We’d better go up, Rupe.” Trudy shrugged. “We can’t afford scenes tonight.”

  “I’m not going,” Ruprecht told her.

  “But, Rupe—”

  “I’m not going,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t listen to his crummy speech if he sent his whole bodyguard after me.”

  She flared up. “So you can’t face it. Magda and Rudolph—”

  Ruprecht sounded tough now. “If you don’t stop that drivel, I’ll break every bone in your—”

  “I’m going.” She turned on Johnnie. “Come on, you. You’re supposed to be guarding Magda, not reading books.”

  “She didn’t need me. She had two other guys.” He licked his fingers, piled up his china and let the book thump to the floor.

  “She’ll need you now,” Ruprecht supplied gently. “Now that Trudy has her knife whetted.”

  Trudy marched to the door, chin up. She pushed Theo out ahead of her, snapped, “Come on,” to Johnnie and continued her march without looking back.

  Johnnie carried his dishes after her. He didn’t make the door. Ruprecht asked persuasively, “How about a little drink before you go?”

  Johnnie turned around. Ruprecht held out one of the bottles of champagne. “I always carry a spare for emergencies like this. You don’t really want to hear that baby Führer make a pep talk, do you? Kick that door shut and set down the crockery. We’ll have one little drink. And if there’s not enough here for one little drink, we’ll buzz for more.”

  Johnnie kicked the door shut. He exchanged the dishes for the bottle. Ruprecht said, “The cork’s been sprung. Do you need a glass or are you a man?”

  Johnnie tipped up the bottle. He’d never tasted champagne before. He smacked his lips.

  “Have a seat,” Ruprecht invited. He lounged in one corner of the couch. Johnnie took the other. “How’s about a little toast? Damn all women. I don’t like women.”

  “I kinda do,” Johnnie admitted.

  “What for?”

  “We-l-l—”

  “But that’s all,” Rupe closed that avenue. “I say damn their golden hides.” He drank. Johnnie drank. Ruprecht said, “Particularly damn Trudy.” He raised the bottle.

  “I don’t know,” Johnnie dissented. “She’s a pretty cute little mouse.”

  Rupe drank. “She needs beating.” He held up the bottle again. “With a club. How do you stand on damning Magda?”

  “We-l-l—” Johnnie thought seriously about that. “She’s—she’s—”

  “She’s a slut. Trudy’s right about that. We’ll damn Magda too.”

  Johnnie drank. “Is she really going to marry that lug?”

  “Sirrah, you speak of my brother! She is if she can. Wouldn’t surprise me any if she had a J. P. in the crowd just to make it legal, but quick.” Ruprecht eyed him. “Just what were you doing in here?”

  “Honestly, I was reading.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “Nobody sent me. I came down here to find out about Rudamia and Trudamia and that Luxembourg. I never heard of them before.”

  Ruprecht’s eyes widened. “For God’s sake where did you come from?”

  “I’m from Texas,” Johnnie bridled. “And I still never heard of Rudamia and—”

  Ruprecht murmured, “I should say in rebuttal that I have never heard of Texas. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be true. For two years I have heard nothing else but.” He clapped his hands. “‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’.” He raised his voice in song. “‘Got too much of Texas in my ha-ir.’” He eyed Johnnie carefully. “And how did you get mixed up with this den of thieves? Who are you?”

  Johnnie took another swig. It was a relief to have someone to talk with at last, someone who wouldn’t shut you up every time you opened your mouth. “It just happened.”

  “Spill it.”

  “I was taking a subway ride. And Pudgey—Herr Dorp—was on the same subway. And I just happened to follow him.” He might as well give out with the whole works. “See, he was talking German to old Gimlet-face, the one you call Ottomkopf, and I didn’t think it was patriotic for him to be talking German, not in these tim
es.”

  Ruprecht looked kind of funny. “Otto doesn’t speak English well. It makes it difficult.”

  Johnnie bristled, “I’m in the Army, see? I’m Private First Class John Brown from Texas stationed at Fort Dix in New Jersey. I didn’t like that guy talking German. I was going to tell him.” He relaxed. “Only he went in his house before I could, so I followed him.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “The squirt—that guy called Theo—he let me in.”

  Rupe’s eyes squinted. “Go on.”

  “Well, that’s when it began to happen. I was waiting to see Herr Dorp, and Trudy came in, and I fell in the paste, and she rushed me upstairs and put me in Magda’s room.”

  “I trust you protected your honor,” Ruprecht peered down the mouth of his bottle.

  Johnnie blushed a little. “Magda didn’t even see me. You know. She just bossed me around, made me put on this monkey suit—” He broke off, demanded, “Are these S’s?” He jabbed the silver snakes on his collar. “Because I’ve heard of the S. S.’s.”

  Ruprecht sighed. “They’re an imitation.”

  “What do you mean imitation?”

  “Skip it. It’s a uniform, sort of private army.”

  “That goon’s?”

  “If by goon you are referring to my unadmired brother, Johnnie, you’re in the groove. Continue.”

  He wasn’t sure yet. Even imitations wouldn’t be good. But he continued, “That’s all there is to it. Only I wanted to find out about those countries so I decided to look them up.” Intelligent, just like Bill.

  “Save your eyes,” Ruprecht admonished. “I can tell you all there is to know about Rudamia and Trudamia. Rudamia is coal and iron, Trudamia is oil and mica. Divided we fall. But if Rudo and Magda get together, we aren’t divided any more.”

  “You mean,” Johnnie began bug-eyed, “like in history? They get married for state reasons?”

  “You don’t think she’s marrying him for his manly virtues, do you?”

  Johnnie took a long drink. “What about Luxembourg?”

  “Well, most people have heard of Lux. Even if they haven’t heard of Rudamia and Trudamia. They’re all down in the same neighborhood. Only Ru and Tru aren’t as big as Lux. When the Nazis rolled in—”

  “You mean—”

  “Don’t you read the papers? But then it wasn’t in the headlines. There weren’t any battles. The Nazis just took us over.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “I wasn’t there.” Ruprecht held the bottle upside down. Nothing came out. “I’ve been at Yale the last five years. Nice place, Yale. Much nicer than Rudamia. Before that, I was at Exeter.”

  “I’m Texas A. and M. Or I was before the war.” Johnnie got back on the beam. “Did the Nazis take Magda’s country too? How did she escape?”

  “She wasn’t there either. She’s been at Miss Featherley’s for years. That’s where they send girls with figures instead of minds. Trudy’s been at Bennington. That’s for girls with figgers and minds both.”

  “And Rudolph?”

  “Rudo had no yen for higher learning. He was at Biarritz when the shooting began. He took straight off for Alex, just in case. Smart lad, Rudo. Only trouble with him, he waited too long to get to the States. Only made it to Mexico.”

  “He likes Mexico,” Johnnie supplied.

  “Why didn’t he stay there if he likes it so well? The family has a big rancho in Mexico, belonged to an ancestor. Why go back to Rudamia? But he wants to play king.”

  “That goon is really a king?”

  Ruprecht took his tongue out of the bottle. “Empty. Absolutely empty. Not even an aroma. We’ll have to go for reinforcements. Unless you’d like to wait here while I get them.”

  Johnnie consulted his watch. It was ten o’clock now. “I better not. I got a date with a couple of soldiers downtown. I can’t be too late. They want to go to the Stage Door Canteen. I’d better go find Magda.”

  “Lay off Magda,” Ruprecht warned. He gathered up the empties; Johnnie took the crockery. “Trudy’s bad enough but Magda—she’s poison. If you really want a girl, I’ve got a list that will lay you against the ropes.”

  Johnnie shook his head. “I just want to ask her something. After that I’ll tell off Herr Dorp. Then I’ll be on my way.” He remembered his manners. “I’ve enjoyed the party very much, Mr. Ruprecht. Especially the éclairs and the champagne.”

  “Call me Rupe. And don’t thank me. Thank Ferenz.”

  They weaved to the marble stairs, climbed fairly steadily. The ballroom was noisier than ever, climaxed around Rudolph and Magda. Rudolph was still talking. His brother said, “Sure you won’t join me in another bottle? We could split one.”

  “Haven’t time. Thanks just the same.” He’d had enough. He wasn’t tight, just pleasant, but he was warm. He’d enjoy getting outdoors.

  Ruprecht laid his hand on his shoulder. “If I were you I wouldn’t mention to anyone in these parts just who you really are. They might not like it.” He wobbled pleasantly toward the bar.

  Johnnie sidled back to the supper table. He ate a handful of salted nuts and a big ripe olive. He wasn’t going to get near Magda soon, not in this mob scene. She was standing over near the music, on Rudolph’s arm, bored stiff behind her painted smile. Ottomkopf, Janssen, Dorp and Theo were grouped around. Ferenz beamed like a goat-fed cobra. Trudy was evidently too small to show. Johnnie grabbed another handful of nuts and a couple of mints. No use standing up for the rest of the oration. He couldn’t make out what the goon was saying as it was. He retired gracefully to his favorite couch. More than ever he regretted the absence of the platinum babe. He was in the mood for a blonde about now. He’d give Rudo ten more minutes. If he didn’t shut up by then, he, Johnnie, would make a dive through the crowd and interrupt. He had to find out the address of his uniform.

  Rudolph’s voice squeaked on “Rudamia!” A burst of applause drowned him out. Must be about over. Just then Trudy came out the door. She was moving fast until she spied Johnnie. She didn’t slow down then but she changed her course. She was in front of him before he could budge. “Why are you out here?”

  “Just resting. I got tired standing up.”

  She gazed at him with an eye like Aunt Clotilda in her bad moments. “What did you do with Rupe?”

  “He’s gone for more champagne.”

  “He’s had enough champagne. And so have you.” She darted a quick one over her shoulder. No one was there. Her voice dropped. “Here. Take this. Don’t give it to anyone but me and don’t tell anyone you have it.”

  She’d pulled ‘this’ out of her gold evening bag. It was an envelope, done up with blobs of red sealing wax. It was too heavy for its size. Something besides paper in it. The jewels?

  She pushed it into his hand. “Take it. Put it in your pocket, your inside pocket, stupid! Quick.”

  He made it quick. He was almost scared sober she was so jumpy. If anyone had come out of the door they couldn’t have seen what he was doing. She was shielding him. He got it tucked inside.

  She fixed her eyes on him. “Remember. Don’t tell anyone, not anyone, that I gave you anything.”

  “Sure nuff,” he nodded.

  “If you do—” It was funny but he hadn’t ever noticed before that her eyes weren’t pure blue. Around the pupils were flecks as green as Magda’s. “If you do,” she repeated, and her voice was colder than the marble bench, “I don’t think you’ll live very long.”

  Three

  FOR A MOMENT, BUT only for a moment, Johnnie observed Trudy through pinwheels. He wasn’t that drunk. He had heard what she said. She was still standing there making sure he took it in. And he was right, her eyes weren’t any softer than marble.

  His voice gulped back into his throat. “I won’t forget,” he assured her quickly. All the pleasant glow had evaporated. The only warm place about him was his inner coat pocket. That was too hot.

  She seemed satisfied. She looked human when sh
e asked sharply, “Just what were you doing in the library?”

  “Reading. Trying to read. I wanted to find out about those countries. Then I was interrupted. But Rupe told me about them. Magda’s queen of this Trudamia—”

  “Indeed she is not!” Trudy flashed. “My mother’s queen of Trudamia. And I’ll be queen some day. Trudamia is a matriarchy. Magda comes from a very minor branch of the family, a sixth cousin. Her father was a commoner.”

  Even if she had just scared him out of a year’s growth, she really was cute as a bug. And she was a blonde. Johnnie took her hand. “Sit down and tell me about it,” he urged. He began to feel warm again. “You don’t want to hear any more of that guff, do you?” He sort of half-pulled her down beside him. She wasn’t exactly reluctant. Maybe her feet hurt too. “If Magda isn’t queen why is she going to marry Rudolph?”

  “You don’t think I want to marry him, do you?” She was indignant. “It’s a perfect solution. Gets rid of Magda and Rudo both—if it comes off.”

  “He actually is a king?”

  “He will be. If he gets back in time after the war. Of course the people would rather have Ruprecht but Rudolph is nine months older so he gets to reign. Uncle Ruffeni—their father—died this year.”

  “The Nazis?” he asked somberly.

  “The Nazis had nothing to do with it,” she retorted promptly. “He had apoplexy because some fool in Nairobi watered his cognac. That was Uncle Ruffeni. Personally I think Rupe’s a bastard.”

  “He is not,” Johnnie contradicted. “He’s a good Joe.”

  “I don’t mean a bastard that way. I mean the other way. He couldn’t be Uncle Ruff’s son.”

  He wished she’d stop talking so much. He felt like working up to a little cuddling. He moved a little closer. “You know who you remind me of?”

  “Sonja Henie,” she snapped. “If all the men I’ve reminded of Sonja Henie were laid end to end I’d drive a tank over them with pleasure.” She sighed. “But he is too.”

  Johnnie sighed with her. “Is what?”

  “A bastard that way too.” She gave him a gimlet glare. “Who kissed whom?”

  “Who kissed whom?”