Does she or doesn't she? Kinsman asked himself. As if it matters.
When they left the restaurant Jinny wound her arm around Kinsman's and said, "I'm so tired . . . they had us on the go all day long. Do you mind if we just go back to my hotel room and have a drink there?"
Like the cobra and mongoose. But which is which? Kinsman wondered.
Her hotel was a cut above standard government issue. The bed was a double, the furnishings fairly new and in reasonably good condition. The room was clean without smelling of disinfectant. Kinsman put money in the automatic liquor dispenser and bought a scotch for himself and a vodka tonic for Jinny. He poured the liquor and soda into plastic glasses, and found that the Styrofoam ice bucket was already filled with half-melted cubes.
"I've just got to get out of this dress," Jinny said, picking up her pink travel kit and heading for the bathroom. "I'll only be a minute."
Kinsman took the room's only chair and shook his head. 251
This game's pretty silly, you know. A voice inside him answered, Don't be scared; you're doing fine.
On an impulse he went to the phone and, sitting on the edge of the bed, tapped out the number for Walter Reed Hospital. The hospital's information display glowed on the phone screen:
MAY WE HELP YOU?
"Yes," Kinsman said. Speaking as clearly as he could for the computer, he asked, "The condition of Mr. Frederick Durban."
SPELLING OF LAST NAME?
"D-u-r-b-a-n. Frederick."
ARE YOU A FAMILY MEMBER?
"His son," he lied.
DURBAN, FREDERICK. DECEASED 1623 HRS TODAY. FUNERAL ARRANGEMENTS ARE BEING HANDLED BY ...
Kinsman slammed a fist against the phone's OFF button. I know what the funeral arrangements are, he said to himself. Looking out the window at the darkening city, he thought, Four twenty-three this afternoon. Right in the middle of my goddamned presentation. Right in the fucking middle of it!
"What's the matter, Chet? You look awful!"
He turned to see Jinny standing a step inside the bath- room door, her hair loose and tumbling to her shoulders, an iridescent pink nightgown clinging to her.
"A friend of mine . . . died. I just called the hospital and found out."
She came to him and put both hands on his shoulders. "I'm so sorry."
"He was an old man. I expected it. But still . . ."
"I know. It's a shock." She sat beside him on the bed and slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed back and felt her mouth open for him.
She disengaged and reclined languidly on the bed. Pat- ting the covers, she said, "Come on, lay down beside me."
He remained sitting. "Jinny ... I can't."
She gazed up at him, smiling. "If it's my husband you're worried about, never mind. We have an understanding about this kind . . ."
