Fletch(19)
“And there will always be a society columnist called Amelia Shurcliffe.”
“Go off to bed with someone nice, darling, and be sure to tell her how I envy her.”
8
“Trans World Airlines.”
“Good afternoon. This is Irwin Fletcher. I asked my office to make a reservation for me today for your flight to Buenos Aires next Thursday night at eleven o’clock. My secretary has left for the weekend, and I just wanted to check and make sure it had been done.”
“The name again, please, sir?”
“Fletcher. Irwin Fletcher.”
“Flight 629 to Buenos Aires. Departure time eleven P.M. Thursday. Prepaid.”
“Do you have a reservation on that flight for Irwin Fletcher?”
“Yes, sir. The reservation was made this morning. It will not be necessary to confirm the reservation again.”
“Information. What city, please?”
“In Nonheagan, Pennsylvania, the number for Marvin Stanwyk, please.”
“All our numbers are Pennsylvania numbers, sir.”
“In Nonheagan.”
“In which county is Nonheagan, sir?”
“I don’t know. I’m not in Pennsylvania.”
“How do you spell it, sir?”
“P-e-n-n-s-y-l—”
“I mean the name of the town, sir.”
“Oh. N-o-n—”
“I found it, sir. It’s in Bucks County.”
“Thank you.”
“When people call long-distance information, they are usually calling for Bucks County.”
“That’s damned interesting.”
“Now, what is the name you wanted?”
“Stanwyk. Marvin Stanwyk. S-t-a-n-w-y-k.”
“That’s the wrong way to spell Stanwyk, sir.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“We have a Stanwyk Marvin on Beecher Road.”
“Do you have any other Stanwyk Marvin?”
“We have a Stanwyk Hardware on Ferncroft Road, also misspelled.”
“Let me have both numbers, will you?”
“Yes, sir. They’re both listed in Nonheagan.”
“Mr. Stanwyk? This is Casewell Insurers of California, subinsurers of the subsidiary carriers of a partial policy listed by Alan Stanwyk, who is your son?”
“Yes.”
“Glad to catch you in, sir.”
“I’m always in.”
“Just a few questions, sir. Are you and your wife currently alive?”
“Last time I looked, you damn fool.”
“And you’re both in good health?”
“Except for a pain in the ass from answering damn fools on the telephone.”
“Thank you, sir. And you are the parents of Alan Stanwyk, executive vice president of Collins Aviation?”
“Unless my wife knows somethin’ she never told me.”
“I see, sir.”
“I don’t think they should let people like you dial long-distance.”
“Very amusing, sir.”
“I mean, you must be costing someone a passel of money.”
“It’s all paid for by the premiums, sir.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Some other damn fool, like my son, is paying those premiums just so you can be a jackass coast-to-coast.”
“Quite right, sir.”
“It’s damn fools like you who make me invest in telephone stock.”
“Very wise of you, sir, I’m sure.”
“The telephone company’s the only outfit in the whole country making any money. It’s because of fools like you some other fool lets near a telephone. Notice the way I’m keeping you talking?”
“I do, sir. You must own telephone stock.”
“I do. Plenty of it. You didn’t reverse the charges, did you?”
“No, sir. I didn’t.”
“Well, you’ll be glad to know that both my wife and I are alive. Thanks to telephone stock and damn fools like you.”
“When was the last time you saw your son, sir?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“A few weeks ago?”
“He drops by every six weeks or so.”
“Alan?”
“That’s his name. My wife thought it was an improvement on Marvin, although I’ve never been sure.”
“Your son, Alan, visits you in Pennsylvania every six weeks?”
“About that. Give or take a week. He has his own Collins Aviation planes. Jets. A nice young copilot comes with him who just loves Helen’s buckwheat cakes. He puts away three plates of them a morning and wants them again for lunch.”
“Your son, Alan Stanwyk, flies across country every six weeks in a private jet to visit you?”
“He never was much of a letter-writer. Sometimes he’s on his way in or out of New York or Washington.”