Chapter 21 – My Friends
Gale tooled over the Ben Sawyer Bridge fast in her Ferrari, but not as fast as I did in the 390 GT, Gale keeping her tires connected to the asphalt. She pulled into Jinny’s driveway, got out, didn’t knock on the door but barged in and climbed the stairs to the kitchen elevated ten feet above beach level in case another hurricane blasts through like Hugo did in 1989. That one wiped out hundreds of homes on the island and many more throughout the Charleston area. Jinny sat at the counter eating shrimp and grits from three bowls, in front of which were six wine glasses filled with reds and whites. He didn’t even blink when she came in and said to him, “What in god’s name are you doing? Where’s your gun? I could have been someone coming in to steal your two million in cash.”
He chewed more, then took a sip from one of the glasses and closed his eyes. When he opened them he reached into a drawer in the counter and pulled out a Beretta nine millimeter, setting it next to one of the six wine bottles also sitting on the counter. He said, “I knew it was you.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Perfume. The Shimmerer. That’s what you’ve been wearing lately. Great stuff.”
“You smelled my perfume before I got into the kitchen?” He nodded and spooned more grits into his mouth, followed by a sip from a different glass. “What are you doing?”
“Taste-testing. I’m writing an article for Southern Living Magazine about the best wines to go with shrimp and grits. So far the winner is a French vouvray, but I’ve got a lot more wines to go through.”
Gale wondered how many people performed research for a culinary article with a Beretta at hand, but let the thought go because she had more important things to talk about, namely my impending infidelity to my husband, and their close friend, Roger. It was inconceivable to Gale to be interested in a man and not plan on ravishing him morning, noon, and night for an extended period of time. Sometimes a very extended period of time. She said, “We gotta talk.” He motioned her to continue, then added more S&G to his mouth, this time from a different bowl. “Gwen’s going to have an affair with this Tommy Crown guy.” Jinny stopped chewing. “She’s gonna cheat on Roger.” He swallowed. “We gotta stop her. You, me, if we were married, no problem. But her, them. Can’t happen. No way. We can’t let that happen.”
Jinny sat back in his chair and looked at Gale. Then he leaned forward and drained all the wine left in each of the six glasses in front of him, after which he said, “So, you want me to remove this guy from the equation? This Tommy guy?”
“What do you mean, remove?”
“Remove, remove. Eighty-six him from the scene. Save Gwen from herself. Ain’t that what friends are for?”
“You mean tell him to get out of town, go back to New York?”
Jinny thought a moment, then said, “That’s not what I had in mind, but I guess I can try that first.” Just as it was inconceivable to Gale to have a platonic relationship with a handsome guy, it was inconceivable to Little Jinny Blistov to not think first of eliminating, permanently, a person who in some significant way was causing trouble in his life or the life of anyone he cares about. And he cares about Roger and me.
“And what if he says no to leaving?” asked Gale.
“Then out to the rocks off Fort Sumter with him. Last trip I made out there, the body showed up off the coast of Spain a month later.”
Gale never was sure when Jinny was kidding and when he wasn’t. She said, “Let’s leave that on the table for later. We gotta try to talk her out of this, first. She wants me to keep the car for a while, the Mustang, like she’s gonna drive this guy around in it, or he’s gonna drive her around. And you know what happens when you drive around fast in a hot car with someone you got the hots for.”
Jinny wasn’t sure what Gale meant by this, him not having use of a lot of hot cars while growing up on the docks of Saint Petersburg, or later during his teenage years in the Russian army. During his childhood his mother rowed a boat out into the North Sea to fish for mackerel, and that boat was the fastest vehicle in his experience until he started riding around in a World War II era armored personnel carrier after he joined the army. He said, “If you wanna talk with her, let’s go, but I think it would be easier to talk to the guy. He’s no problem to deal with. Gwen, she don’t scare.”
Gale sat down on a stool and looked at the wine bottles, and then over to the three pots on the stove. “You made three different versions of S&G?” Jinny nodded. “They good?” He nodded again. “The wine good? Six different types?” He nodded. “So that’s like, eighteen different combinations, right? You trying all of them, see which one is best?” He nodded. “That sounds like a lot of combinations. You need any help with this article thing?” He nodded. “Do I get joint authorship and a cut of the fee?”
“Yeah,” he said, “long as you do your share of the research.”
Gale’s resolve to challenge me on her course of action appeared to be weakening as she said, “Dish me up the S&G, big fella, and don’t be stingy with the wine.” Jinny smiled.