Diverting her attention, Val said, “Did you notice how he reacted when I mentioned Sandy.”
Meredith composed herself. “Yes. There was something he was concealing.”
“I wonder …”
The door through which Falsgraf had exited opened and a man who looked like a younger version of the portrait in the lobby entered. “Good morning! Sheridan said you wanted to see me.”
Val stood as Sanford Lawrence Speidell sauntered across the room. He was about six feet tall and slim with a perfect tan; his blonde hair was short and styled by an expert. He wore an expensive gray tweed suit, white shirt and a red tie and matching handkerchief.
Speidell stared at Val and said, “My word, for a moment I thought I had encountered my doppelgänger.”
With a start, Meredith…show more content… They were being dismissed.
Sandy Speidell smiled and said, “So nice meeting both of you. Goodbye.”
*****
They remained silent until they reached the ground floor and could speak without being overheard.
Val said, “What did you make of that guy?”
“Falsgraf?”
“No, he’s easy to figure. I mean Speidell.”
Meredith entered the revolving door and waited until Val joined her outside before replying, “He’s a type one meets.”
“So you met others like him?”
She nodded. Val stepped off the curb and hailed a cab. He assisted Meredith into the cab and gave the driver the address of Sam’s Grill . “Val, are you familiar with the movie actor George Saunders?”
“Sure … the Brit who usually plays some stuck-up, sarcastic rich guy. Always seems bored with the world.”
“Well, there are a lot of men like Sandy Speidell in my social circle and when I meet one of them I think to myself, ‘Oh, there’s another George.’”
“So Speidell was playacting? I thought as much.”
“I agree, most of it was pretense. Like I said, he’s a type. I don’t understand why they behave the way they do. Perhaps they don’t want to acknowledge who they really are or don’t even know. It’s rather sad.”
“No wonder you went for…show more content… Val said, “You never mentioned you went to one of Dolly Van Ark’s costume parties.”
“Val, it was years ago. I was eighteen. Dolly isn’t exactly my type.”
“How so?”
“She’s, oh … how can I say this nicely … she’s a very friendly girl.”
“Fast.”
“So I’ve heard. Dolly’s parties can get fairly wild. Every year, there’s a different theme. I remember when I went it was ‘Famous Americans.’“
“So what was your costume?”
Meredith smiled at the memory. “Pocahontas.”
“Beaded dress?”
“Oh yes.”
