The Scarletti Inheritance - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,52

drinks, handed one to her, and remained standing.

'Didn't you read his accounts of what happened? I thought the newspapers did a splendid job of making it perfectly clear who was really responsible for the Kaiser's defeat.' She drank again.

'Oh, hell, that's the publishing boys. They have to sell papers. I read them but I didn't take them seriously. Never thought he did either.'

'You talk as if you knew my husband.'

Canfield purposely looked startled and took his glass away from his lips. 'Didn't you know?'

'What?'

'Well, of course, I knew him. I knew him quite well. I just took it for granted that you knew. I'm sorry.'

Janet concealed her surprise. 'There's nothing to be sorry about. Ulster had a large circle of friends. I couldn't possibly know them all. Were you a New York friend of Ulster's? I don't remember his mentioning you.'

'No, not really. Oh, we met now and then when I came east.'

'Oh, that's right, you're from Chicago. It is Chicago?'

'It is. But to be honest with you, my job takes me all over the place.' And certainly, he was honest about that.

'What do you do?'

Canfield returned with the drinks and sat down. 'Stripped of its frills, I'm a salesman. But we never strip the frills that obviously.'

'What do you sell? I know lots of people who sell things. They don't worry about frills.'

'Well, I don't sell stocks or bonds or buildings or even bridges. I sell tennis courts.'

Janet laughed. It was a nice laugh. 'You're joking!'

'No, seriously, I sell tennis courts.'

He put his drink down and pretended to look in his pockets. 'Let's see if I've got one on me. They're really very nice. Perfect bounce. Wimbledon standards except for the grass. That's the name of our company. Wimbledon. For your information, they're excellent courts. You've probably played on dozens of them and never knew who to give the credit to.'

'I think that's fascinating. Why do people buy your tennis courts? Can't they just build their own?'

'Sure. We encourage them to. We make more money when we rip one out and replace it with ours.'

'You're teasing me. A tennis court's a tennis court.'

'Only the grass ones, my dear. And they're never quite ready by spring and they're always brown in the fall. Ours are year-round.'

She laughed again.

'It's really very simple. My company's developed an asphalt composition that duplicates the bounce of a grass court. Never melts in heat. Never expands when frozen. Would you like the full sales pitch? Our trucks will be here in three days and during that time we'll contract for the first layer of gravel. We'll do that locally. Before you know it, you'll have a beautiful court right out there on Fifty-fourth Street.'

They both laughed.

'And I assume you're a champion tennis player.'

'No. I play. Not well. I don't particularly like the game. Naturally we have several internationally known whizzes on the payroll to vouch for the courts. Incidentally, we guarantee an exhibition match on yours the day we complete the job. You can ask your friends over and have a party. Some magnificent parties have been held on our courts. Now, that's generally the close that sells the job!'

'Very impressive.'

'From Atlanta to Bar Harbor. Best courts, best parties.' He raised his glass.

'Oh, so you sold Ulster a tennis court?'

'Never tried, I imagine I could have. He bought a dirigible once, and after all, what's a tennis court compared to that?'

'It's flatter.' She giggled and held her glass out to him. He rose and went to the bar, unwrapping the handkerchief from his hand and putting it in his pocket. She slowly extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray in front of her.

'If you're not in the New York crowd, where did you know my husband?'

'We first met in college. Briefly, very briefly. I left in the middle of my first year.' Canfield wondered if Washington had placed the proper records of a long-forgotten freshman down at Princeton University.

'Aversion to books?'

'Aversion to money. The wrong branch of the family had it. Then we met later in the army, again briefly.'

'The army?'

'Yes. But in no way like that, I repeat, no way like that!' He gestured toward the mantel and returned to the sofa.

'Oh?'

'We parted company after training in New Jersey. He to France and glory. Me to Washington and boredom. But we had a helluva time before that.' Canfield leaned ever so slightly toward her, permitting his voice the minor intimacy usually accompanying the second effects of alcohol. 'All prior to his nuptials, of course.'

'Not so