Chapter Forty-Eight
The next day the small dirt-strip airport at Newport had never seen so many chartered aircraft. Wally had rented a nearby restaurant called Boys Town where he asked the arriving guests to wait for the bus he hired to take them to the Rembrandt Hotel in Glad Beach.
Glad Beach-ites referred to the Rembrandt as the hotel with one ear to the ground.
Given these people were mostly society friends of Liz and Maggie none of them looked too pleased when they were served by the fat owner Markus Dubinsky and his equally fat daughters, Bertie, Brunta, and Daphne.
No fancy coffee drinks in here, Markus explained when some guests ordered lattés and other fancy coffee drinks. “And no champagne, I see.” complained one indignant man.
Sax sat on the stool behind the cash register
