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Chapter 2
For a while Mason was strolling along the beach, fighting the temptation to drown his sorrows in
a bottle. Soon he had to admit the fight was lost; so he entered ‘Johnny’s Place’ and sat at the
bar stand.
A red-haired waitress blinked at him shortsightedly. Jane, he recalled. “Jane,” he said with a
sweet smile he always offered bar-tenders and waitresses, “can I have a drink please?”
The omnipresent, eternal Pearl showed up. “Jane, let ME serve the gentleman… Mason, would
you take a table if you please?”
Mason made a face, but seeing that Pearl took a tray and started collecting various bottles, he
conceded.
In a minute Pearl and the tray both joined him.
“Why the honour?” Mason grumbled. “I could do very well by the bar stand.”
“Just wanted to have a word or two with you – if you don’t mind, that is.” Pearl was smiling his
usual broad smile.
“I’m in no mood to talk right now, sorry, pal.”
“Why don’t you go home, then, and make peace with Julia?” said Pearl in his carefree manner.
Mason glared at him. “Much as I respect Julia’s right to have friends and to discuss her private
life with them – this happens to be my private life, too, and I strongly object to people meddling
with it.”
“That’s what I like about you, Mase,” Pearl replied with a kind of admiration, “you always make
yourself so clear.”
“Thank you; shall we drink to this?”
“One more minute, please. I just need to pick your brains, and I mean your sober brains.”
“You can take them; I won’t need them tonight. Just drop them by my place first thing tomorrow
morning, will you?”
Mason took hold of the nearest bottle. Pearl grabbed at it, too.
“Mason, please. I know you’re depressed and therefore think you have every right to forget the
world--”
“And why the hell not?” Mason said, annoyed. “I see, Pearl, that you’ve probably outgrown the
professional limits of a bar-tender…”
“Actually I’m a detective now; a co-founder of a detective agency. With Cruz Castillo.”
“My congratulations and very best wishes. So?”
Pearl and Mason were still pulling the bottle, each in his own direction. Pearl felt he had to yield
if he wanted to be heard out. “Look, I’m letting this thing go,” he warned, lest it be broken, and
he did.
Mason replaced the bottle onto the tray. “Absurd,” he murmured.
Strange as it might seem, absurd was better than down; and Pearl was, after all, but a stranger.
One can talk to a stranger more freely.
“Sorry Mase,” Pearl added. “I know--”
“It’s ok. It can wait a few minutes. What’s your business?”
Pearl pouted his lips, turning his braid over and over in his fingers.
“If its sole purpose is NOT to prevent me from drinking,” Mason specified and secured one of
the bottles in his hand.
“No, not really… Have you ever heard of an – Eleanor Norris? A beautiful woman. They say
she looks very much like Pamela Conrad in her youth.”
His mother’s name mentioned made Mason forget the spirit. “I’m not sure I have. Go on.”
“This Eleanor appeared to be really Elena Nicholas, Dr Alex Nicholas’ daughter.”
“So she did; what of it?”
“I just found out she’s his adopted daughter.”
“Ok, why should it interest you – or me?” Mason could not see the point.
“She’s working for the agency now,” Pearl explained. “’The Last Resort’ we called it; a nice
name, don’t you think?”
“Very nice.” Mason leant back.
“She looks at Cruz as if he were a vanilla ice-cream.”
Mason laughed. “I can imagine. Cruz does have such an effect on impressionable girls. What,
are you jealous?”
Pearl knew Mason hit the nail on the head; but - since a certain moment, he had not been as
interested in Elena’s female charms as before.
“No but your sister is,” he said calmly. “And oh, by the way, do you know there have been
several attempts to do away with Kelly and Eden?”
“By the way?” Mason echoed. A part of him howled, what? will this ever end?! The man, the
protector in him, however, shut the impulse up; whatever Pearl was, he was not a gossip
monger, nor a windbag, and even if he was not saying anything definite now, one still was to
take him seriously. “Jane. Would you please take away this tray, thank you. So – what do you
mean, by the way?”
Pearl was glad the spirit did not distract Mason any longer. “I mean - there was an Indian seen
with Elena… We can’t be sure it is THE Indian, for none of us has seen him.”
Mason’s lips set. “And--”
“And – Elena sees your mother quite often, and always in secret.”
“You mean to say my mother--”
“No, no, no need to fly into a passion. Not your mother – but wouldn’t you at least get alarmed?”
Mason would not say it aloud, but for a while his instincts had been telling him Pamela was
hiding something from him. Something definitely unpleasant. So he controlled himself. "And
since you're a detective, why don't you get busy with it?" he asked Pearl.
It was Pearl's turn to make a face. "You know if we detectives started spying on our own
employees what time would we have for our clients?"
Mason had to agree. “What do you want me to do?” he said, businesslike.
Pearl shrugged his shoulders. “Ask your mother a few questions, but don’t be too obvious. Use
your detectives to dig anything they can on Elena. Well, I guess you’ll figure out what to do –
just to make sure the lady with two names doesn’t have two faces as well.”
“Thank you Pearl,” Mason said slowly.
Pearl stood up, and then he bent down. “Hey Mase,” he said kindly. “You’re happier than I am;
you have a home and someone to come home to.”
A curt reply was ready on the tip of Mason’s tongue, but when he met Pearl’s eye he
reconsidered it. “Thanks Pearl,” he said again, whole-heartedly.
For a while Mason was strolling along the beach, fighting the temptation to drown his sorrows in
a bottle. Soon he had to admit the fight was lost; so he entered ‘Johnny’s Place’ and sat at the
bar stand.
A red-haired waitress blinked at him shortsightedly. Jane, he recalled. “Jane,” he said with a
sweet smile he always offered bar-tenders and waitresses, “can I have a drink please?”
The omnipresent, eternal Pearl showed up. “Jane, let ME serve the gentleman… Mason, would
you take a table if you please?”
Mason made a face, but seeing that Pearl took a tray and started collecting various bottles, he
conceded.
In a minute Pearl and the tray both joined him.
“Why the honour?” Mason grumbled. “I could do very well by the bar stand.”
“Just wanted to have a word or two with you – if you don’t mind, that is.” Pearl was smiling his
usual broad smile.
“I’m in no mood to talk right now, sorry, pal.”
“Why don’t you go home, then, and make peace with Julia?” said Pearl in his carefree manner.
Mason glared at him. “Much as I respect Julia’s right to have friends and to discuss her private
life with them – this happens to be my private life, too, and I strongly object to people meddling
with it.”
“That’s what I like about you, Mase,” Pearl replied with a kind of admiration, “you always make
yourself so clear.”
“Thank you; shall we drink to this?”
“One more minute, please. I just need to pick your brains, and I mean your sober brains.”
“You can take them; I won’t need them tonight. Just drop them by my place first thing tomorrow
morning, will you?”
Mason took hold of the nearest bottle. Pearl grabbed at it, too.
“Mason, please. I know you’re depressed and therefore think you have every right to forget the
world--”
“And why the hell not?” Mason said, annoyed. “I see, Pearl, that you’ve probably outgrown the
professional limits of a bar-tender…”
“Actually I’m a detective now; a co-founder of a detective agency. With Cruz Castillo.”
“My congratulations and very best wishes. So?”
Pearl and Mason were still pulling the bottle, each in his own direction. Pearl felt he had to yield
if he wanted to be heard out. “Look, I’m letting this thing go,” he warned, lest it be broken, and
he did.
Mason replaced the bottle onto the tray. “Absurd,” he murmured.
Strange as it might seem, absurd was better than down; and Pearl was, after all, but a stranger.
One can talk to a stranger more freely.
“Sorry Mase,” Pearl added. “I know--”
“It’s ok. It can wait a few minutes. What’s your business?”
Pearl pouted his lips, turning his braid over and over in his fingers.
“If its sole purpose is NOT to prevent me from drinking,” Mason specified and secured one of
the bottles in his hand.
“No, not really… Have you ever heard of an – Eleanor Norris? A beautiful woman. They say
she looks very much like Pamela Conrad in her youth.”
His mother’s name mentioned made Mason forget the spirit. “I’m not sure I have. Go on.”
“This Eleanor appeared to be really Elena Nicholas, Dr Alex Nicholas’ daughter.”
“So she did; what of it?”
“I just found out she’s his adopted daughter.”
“Ok, why should it interest you – or me?” Mason could not see the point.
“She’s working for the agency now,” Pearl explained. “’The Last Resort’ we called it; a nice
name, don’t you think?”
“Very nice.” Mason leant back.
“She looks at Cruz as if he were a vanilla ice-cream.”
Mason laughed. “I can imagine. Cruz does have such an effect on impressionable girls. What,
are you jealous?”
Pearl knew Mason hit the nail on the head; but - since a certain moment, he had not been as
interested in Elena’s female charms as before.
“No but your sister is,” he said calmly. “And oh, by the way, do you know there have been
several attempts to do away with Kelly and Eden?”
“By the way?” Mason echoed. A part of him howled, what? will this ever end?! The man, the
protector in him, however, shut the impulse up; whatever Pearl was, he was not a gossip
monger, nor a windbag, and even if he was not saying anything definite now, one still was to
take him seriously. “Jane. Would you please take away this tray, thank you. So – what do you
mean, by the way?”
Pearl was glad the spirit did not distract Mason any longer. “I mean - there was an Indian seen
with Elena… We can’t be sure it is THE Indian, for none of us has seen him.”
Mason’s lips set. “And--”
“And – Elena sees your mother quite often, and always in secret.”
“You mean to say my mother--”
“No, no, no need to fly into a passion. Not your mother – but wouldn’t you at least get alarmed?”
Mason would not say it aloud, but for a while his instincts had been telling him Pamela was
hiding something from him. Something definitely unpleasant. So he controlled himself. "And
since you're a detective, why don't you get busy with it?" he asked Pearl.
It was Pearl's turn to make a face. "You know if we detectives started spying on our own
employees what time would we have for our clients?"
Mason had to agree. “What do you want me to do?” he said, businesslike.
Pearl shrugged his shoulders. “Ask your mother a few questions, but don’t be too obvious. Use
your detectives to dig anything they can on Elena. Well, I guess you’ll figure out what to do –
just to make sure the lady with two names doesn’t have two faces as well.”
“Thank you Pearl,” Mason said slowly.
Pearl stood up, and then he bent down. “Hey Mase,” he said kindly. “You’re happier than I am;
you have a home and someone to come home to.”
A curt reply was ready on the tip of Mason’s tongue, but when he met Pearl’s eye he
reconsidered it. “Thanks Pearl,” he said again, whole-heartedly.
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