"What's CommPlex, Jed?" she asked in her most sincere voice, but zoned out of the conversation and back into ' her Stoli as Jed proceeded to give a detailed explanation of the giant communications and computer operation that Anderson Warmack had built from his home office into a Fortune 500 corporation over the last fifteen years.

We had almost gotten through the meal without Isabella : asking for a favor a rare stretch of time for me when ey something Jed said about money and business ventures Ion seemed to spark her memory.

She told us that she thought the pilfering increasingly substantial sums of moneyer from deals he set up, but she didn't know how to hire someone to look over his shoulder to confirm her suspi- st cions. Jed asked the captain for a piece of paper and gave ier Isabella the name and number of his accountant in Los Angeles, assuring her that his man would be able to refer her to the right person to check her records for a scam.

"He's a good man, Isabella. And extremely trustworthy he runs all Anderson Warmack's personal finances."

"And how many millions might that involve?"

"Three hundred, maybe three-fifty. That's if the market had an average day today, Isabella. Even more if it was strong."

Isabella was grinning now, licking her chops for effect.

"And is he cute, this Anderson fellow?"

"Well, did you think Charles Laughton was cute?" I asked her.

"Like in the last three or four movies he made? We're talking rich, old, fat, and usually intoxicated."

"One out of four isn't bad especially if it's my favorite one.

Now that you two are so happy together, Jed will just have to introduce me to Anderson Warmack. I I insist on it." ?

Isabella and I left the tab leto go the ladies' room, like two girls at a high school prom, while Jed signed the tab - '21' had the best steak tartare, the best Dungeness crabs, and the most wonderful ladies' room attendant in New York. She was smart and lively, and instead of sitting sullenly in a corner with a stack of paper towels, Marie was always reading. Current fiction mostly mysteries usually with a library dust jacket, and she was always eager to give me her opinion of the writer.

"Hey, dear, how are you? Haven't seen you in weeks. Put anybody away lately?" she giggled.

I introduced her to Isabella, who rudely blew her off and wanted only to gossip about Jed.

"Darling, hang onto this one. Handsome, smart, rich I'm not kidding, I really want to meet his boss."

"The old guy does have a wife, Isabella."

"Really, Alex. I didn't say I wanted to marry the old coot, did I? I might just want to play with him for a while, see where he likes to spend his millions."

"Good night, Marie," I said, tripling my usual tip out of guilt and annoyance over Isabella's display of vulgarity.

Jed's car was waiting in front of the restaurant so we dropped Iz at the Carlyle, then went on to my apartment together. We both agreed that once a year might be often enough for an evening like that, and put thoughts of La Lascar behind us as we undressed and made love to each other with great enthusiasm after ten days of separation.

Now, as the cab squared Grand Army Plaza and dropped me at the front steps of the Plaza Hotel, I wondered whether Jed had told Warmack about Isabella's short-lived expression of interest in him... and whether I should suggest to Mike Chapman that her business manager be added to the list of suspects.

I realized that I was arriving almost an hour later than I had promised Jed, because of Burrell's unannounced visit and the crush of traffic on the streets uptown. Cocktail hour was long over and I was grateful for my thin build ey as I wiggled and squeezed my way through the Grand on Ballroom between two hundred round tables packed to "IC the gills with CommPlex sycophants and rival business las leaders, surrounded by surly waiters trying to serve platters -er of rubber chicken to the noisy crowd.

The program I had picked up at the entrance listed our names at Table 2. I could spot the top of Jed's head as I plowed halfway through the room, waved to the mayor, who was working the tables near the podium, and stopped for a kiss from one of Jed's partners as I neared my empty seat.

"Sorry, Jed, the usual complications and excuses," I whispered to him as he rose to introduce me to the rest of the men and women at the table. Anderson Warmack grinned down at me from the dais on the stage, and it seemed that I owed Richard Burrell a small 'thank you' for the timing that had made it possible for me to avoid any discussion of the late Lascar with the fat tycoon.

Jed was in a good mood, despite my failure to show up for the reception.

"Warmack came into my office at the end of the day," he explained, sotto voce.

"He's not ready to make any public announcement tonight, but he's going to issue a press release right after the Christmas holidays, and I'll probably be named to the presidency of the company by February. I'm going to plan a wonderful trip for us over New Year's, to celebrate it may be my last vacation for a year."

I was thrilled for Jed, knowing how much he had wanted all this to fall into place and how hard he had been working for Warmack's approval. I squeezed his thigh under the table as he tried to run his hand under my tight sheath and pinch me, winking at me with an enormous grin on his face.

"You're not going to make me wait till New Year's to celebrate, are you?" I teased.

"Can't we start sooner?"

"Of course, darling. We can get a room here tonight and go right upstairs after the speeches and..."

"Whoops, maybe tomorrow. That's a wonderful offer, but I've got to leave after the testimonials, Jed. Chapman's meeting me with some evidence that just came in from Massachusetts so I can look at it tonight."

"Evidence? What kind of evidence? I thought there was no other evidence."

I laughed at Jed's concern.

"I'm not making that mistake again. My lips are sealed. It's just a long shot, some things I want to look at, in case they contain any leads."

"Will you come back and meet me later for a nightcap?

Larry, Stan, and I are taking Anderson over to the Tap Room at the University Club for a more intimate toast when this is over."

"Are you crazy? I've got a sentence first thing tomorrow morning. You take care of what you've got to do you should be very happy with the news you got today. And don't make any plans for the weekend the celebration will be my surprise, okay?"

The speeches went on interminably, and I was relieved that Warmack had finished his remarks before I checked leon ti as jger the est ier my watch, rose, and said my good nights, and kissed Jed good-bye. It was a little after ten-thirty when I went out of the hotel through the revolving doors and let the doorman help me into a yellow cab for the short ride home.

Mike's car was parked at the end of the circular driveway when my cab pulled in and dropped me at the apartment. He was standing in the lobby with the two doormen, critiquing whatever sports event had been on the tube that evening.

"Whoa, blondie, bet you ten on the Final Jeopardy question tonight you didn't catch it, didya?"

"Hardly."

"Category was African history. Wanna bet?"

Damn. Not one of my strengths.

"Did you get it right?"

"Yeah. You chicken?"

"All right, ten dollars."

We were in the elevator on the way up to my floor.

"The Final Jeopardy answer is: Napoleon defeated them at the Battle of the Pyramids in 1798."

I shook my head.

"Just deduct the ten from whatever you owe me." I didn't have the faintest idea.

Mike gloated: "Who are the Mamelukes? I knew you wouldn't know that. I should have doubled my bet." He proceeded to give me a thumbnail version of the battle, which was apparently fought nowhere near the great pyramids, and explain who the Mamelukes were and where they came from. He was a whiz at both world history and military battles, and delighted in showing it off.