Whiff Of Money

You have done well was music to his ears. He couldn't remember when last Kovski had given him any praise. His heart beating fast, his breath wheezing through his fat covered lungs, Drina sent his Renault shooting along the autoroute towards Paris.

* * *

The girl in this film is my daughter.

For a moment Dorey again wondered if his hearing was failing, but one look at Sherman's haggard face and the cold misery in his eyes told him he had heard aright.

Dorey's mind worked swiftly. Vaguely now, he remembered hearing that Sherman had a daughter. The last time he had heard anything of her was that she was being educated at an expensive school in Switzerland. When was that? Possibly six or seven years ago. Since then he had heard nothing of her. Whenever Sherman and his wife went on vacation, attended premieres or important dinners, the daughter was conspicuous by her absence. Dorey recalled the girl in the film. Now he knew who she was, he realised she took after her mother. She had Mary's beauty, Mary's slimness, long legs and beautiful hands.

'I'm sorry, sir,' was all he could say.

'Yes.' Sherman sat on the bed. 'You'd better hear the whole, sordid story, John.' He paused, rubbing his hands across his face. 'Gillian and I have never hit it off.' He looked directly at Dorey.

'I guess it was half my fault... half hers. Maybe more my fault than hers because I didn't want children. Anyway, from the very beginning when she was a baby, we resented each other and she was a complete little hellion. She deliberately set out to be difficult, making blackmailing scenes, yelling and screaming if she didn't get her own way. When she reached her teens she became insufferable... anyway to me. How the hell can a man work when there is pop music, long-haired creeps, shouting and yelling, Gillian kicking up trouble every hour of the day? I just couldn't stand it any longer. Why the hell should I? It was my house and Gillian turned it into a goddamn zoo. So I packed her off to Switzerland. The school was top class and they promised to discipline her. She remained in Switzerland, not coming home at all, for four years. God! It was a relief to get her out of my hair... you have no idea the peace I had once she had gone! Well, she stayed at the school until she was nineteen. By then Mary and I were used to living without her.'

Sherman looked down at his massive hands, frowning. '.Both of us were constantly busy. When we found time to take a vacation we went with a group of people who were helping me build my political career...there was no place for a teenage daughter. Anyway, Gillian would have been bored stiff with the people I moved around with, so we arranged for her to stay in Europe. We wrote regularly, of course. She didn't seem to be interested in anything so I suggested she should study architecture. She agreed. I found a woman professor to go around with her, teach her, take her to France, Germany and Italy and generally keep an eye on her.

Then eighteen months ago, I heard from her professor that she had packed her things and had gone off into the blue.'

Sherman paused. I thought maybe this was the best thing that could happen. I was busy . .. Mary, of course, was worried, but frankly, John, Mary was also busy . . . she wants to become the First Lady as much as I want to become the President.'

Dorey was only half-listening to this. He couldn't get out of his mind the pictures of the naked girl he had watched with so much disgust. Sherman's daughter! He felt a chill run up his spine. If this film got into the wrong hands, not only would Sherman be politically finished, but his social life would also be ruined.

Sherman was saying, 'Of course I accept some of the blame. We've behaved selfishly, but Gillian just doesn't fit in with our way of life nor we with hers. I thought it best to let her make her own life. I was ready to give her money, but she never asked for it.' He paused to stare at Dorey who sat motionless, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap. 'We tried to bury her, and this is the result.'

'Yes,' Dorey said, feeling he was expected to say something. 'I understand.'

Sherman forced a rueful smile.

'That's because you are loyal to me, John. Most people would say I deserve what I'm getting. We have been neglectful parents and now we are reaping the whirlwind . . . and my God! . . . what a hell of a whirlwind!' He took from his wallet a piece of paper and handed it to Dorey. 'Take a look at this.'

Dorey unfolded the paper. The typewritten note ran:

To the Sucker who imagines he is going to be the President.

We send you a souvenir from Paris. We have three other similar souvenirs even better (or worse) than this one. If you continue to run for election, these souvenirs will be sent to your Opposition Party who will know what to do with them.

Dorey studied the uneven typing. He held the letter up to the light, studying the faint watermark. 'You have the envelope, sir?'