McNally's Chance by Lawrence Sanders Page B

Both Lolly and Ursi had the ear of those that mattered granted on different strata, but due to necessity the twain doth meet on Ocean Boulevard. Now, interested parties would know whom to contact if they had anything to share.
    Jamie’s mandible, except when chewing, was as rigid as always, but then Jamie only spoke when he had something to say. I had dropped an ant in the pants of the Palm Beach noblesse and now had to wait on their sagacity, which, thankfully, did not hinge upon our national security.
    Dessert was raspberry sorbet with Ursi’s own decadently fudgy brownies, plus a few actual berries for their antioxidant powers. Stoically refusing seconds, I withdrew to my leaky penthouse and settled in for the evening. Not having dressed for dinner summer flannels, lavender polo shirt of Sea Island cotton, white tasseled loafers and no socks of course -I went directly to my desk, got out my journal, and began recording my interview with Sabrina Wright and the case of “The Man That Got Away.” I thought a more apt title might be “The Men That Got Away,” not realizing at the time just how prophetic my own musings would be.
    The men, of course, would include Gillian’s natural father, who had fled some thirty years ago; Zack Ward, who followed suit a week ago; and then Robert Silvester, just a few days ago. Originally, Gillian’s father and Silvester must have believed he was the subject of Lolly’s blind item. I omit Zack Ward because I’m sure he tipped off Lolly. Now that the Olsons had got my message out, Gillian’s father knew, or would soon know, that Sabrina was here in search of Gillian and her lover.
    Would he believe it? If he did, would he find it inconvenient to have both his old flame and the result of their indiscretion on our tight little island? Too, he must be wondering why Gillian had sought asylum in Palm Beach. The guy’s feathered nest was suddenly rife with thorns.
    I had no idea how I was going to go about finding Robert Silvester.
    Both he and Zack Ward were strangers in our midst and therefore would not be privy to the gossip Ursi and Jamie had spread around Ocean Boulevard, so they could not link me with Sabrina. And even if they did, it was unlikely they would contact me. The deer does not attract the attention of the hunter.
    So why did Zack tip off Lolly? Role reversal. Sabrina’s prey was playing the hunter. This case had all the trappings of a bedroom farce which comes with the territory when you get in the middle of domestic fisticuffs.
    I undressed, washed, and donned a blue-and-white striped silk robe. I poured myself a small marc and refusing to break the rule never a second without a third I lit an English Oval.
    At this juncture, as in the spring, a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love. It is said that the average man thinks of sex once every thirty-seven seconds. I have no doubt that Binky Watrous was canvassed on that one. If you think I was mulling over the idea of calling Connie Garcia, you are wrong. In fact, I was thinking of Bianca Courtney and her crusade for justice. More to the point, I was thinking of Bianca Courtney and her position between a boy and a bear Binky Watrous and Al Rogoff.
    What Bianca needed was a sheik in a blue-and-white striped silk robe, to sweep her onto his Arabian charger and gallop off into the sunset. I have these heroic fantasies every thirty-seven seconds. Was guilt a by-product of this fantasy? Absolutely not. I am true to Connie in my fashion, hence I remain single, which makes me more a puritan than a libertine.
    Being a firm believer in the sanctity of marriage, I will not take the fatal step until I am prepared to draw a blank every thirty-seven seconds and become monogamous in thought, word, and deed, till death do us part. Being as far from that goal as the distance between our planet and infinity, I remain footloose and fancy-free. A cop-out?
    Sure. But it proves that one can rationalize anything, crawl into bed, stroke