Heart to Heart: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective by Don Pendleton Page B

overlooking the Seine. A lovely spot. But I did not
paint
    it."
    "I was talking about Le Comte de St.
Germain."
    "There is no Le Comte de St. Germain."
    "Used to be. I understand he befriended the
French throne and particularly Marie Antoinette."
    Those beautiful eyes rebounded instantly
from mine and brimmed with moisture. "Dear heart," she
murmured.
    I felt suddenly very weird and awkward. Were
we thinking of the same "let them eat cake" queen? "Yes," I said,
not knowing what else to say.
    "And so misunderstood. They hated her first
because she was Austrian, then they hated her the more for fleeing
that hatred and taking refuge at the bosom of kinder friends. The
French, the French...they do not know how to treat a lady."
    I said, "Always thought they revered their
ladies."
    She said, eyes still brimming with tears,
"They revere prostitutes who masquerade as ladies. They burn or
behead their ladies."
    I had the strongest urge to take her in my
arms and comfort her, but I just said, "Well, not in a long
time."
    She replied, "Once is quite enough."
    I was thinking about the
two Francescas. The one I had met first on arrival at Pointe House
was your typical American girl-next-door. This Francesca was
old-world European in both manner and language, and I was more
than a little disturbed by that—much more so than by our
conversation on the beach, earlier. I mean, after all, this is
Southern California—Laguna Beach even, which has its cup
overrunning with sects and ashrams—where one hardly blinks an eye
anymore at hearing public references to past lives, mystic
experiences, and the like. Such talk is part of the environment
here; you do not feel compelled to interpret it
literally.
    I was disturbed also by the works of art;
this stuff had master stamped all over it, yet I had never heard of
Francesca Amalie before Pointe House, nor, I suspected, had the
art world. Does an artist of this stature emerge overnight, with
no shadows cast before her?
    And the clay!—those beautifully sculpted
heads that seemed ready to come to life at the snap of some
magician's fingers...
    I had to look again, and I was right:
sculptures and paintings were all of a piece, went together, almost
blended together—yet every lump of clay was Valentinius!
    "He is there," she'd told me.
    Damn right he was there.
    He was there in each of them.
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen: On the Beach
     
    I was suddenly dog-tired in both mind and
body—soul- weary maybe—so I said good-night to Francesca as soon as
I could go gracefully, and went straight up to bed. I paid no
attention to the time but it must have been close to one o'clock
when I reached my suite. I stripped naked and got in bed, intending
to mentally review the day's events, but I guess I was asleep
before my head was firmly upon the pillow.
    I slept well and did not dream of Pointe
House, thank God. Hai Tsu awakened me at a few minutes past eight
with coffee and juice on the side table. "Official visitor awaits,
Shen," she informed me.
    I guessed that she meant Jim Sloane, the
lawyer, and I wanted to see him too, so I asked her to make him
comfortable and to tell him that I would be right down.
    I hit the shower as soon as Hai Tsu left the
room, then got into tennis shorts, a polo shirt, and sneakers, and
went down without shaving.
    Sloane was not in the library and there was
no sign of Hai Tsu so I went exploring and found the "official
visitor" enjoying coffee at a courtyard table. Actually there were
two visitors and neither was Jim Sloane. They were plainclothes
cops from the county of Orange, Sergeant Alvarez and Detective
Beatty; they were being entertained by Francesca in skintight
workout suit and nothing else—and obviously enjoying the
experience immensely.
    They stood up to shake my
hand anyway as we exchanged introductions. I have worked with
cops, but not much in this particular jurisdiction. These two
seemed like nice guys, entirely courteous and affable,