Jackson, Braun Lilian

"If you had attended the press preview, you'd have a proper perspective." Riker had the ruddy face and paunchy figure of an editor who had attended too many press previews.

"If I ate their free lunch," Qwilleran shot back, "they'd expect all kinds of puffery in my column . . . No, it was enough, Arch, that you gave them the lead story on page one, three pictures inside, and an editorial!"

The publisher's new wife, Mildred, spoke up. "Qwill, I went to the preview with Arch and thought XYZ Enterprises did a very tasteful job with the hotel. It's rustic and blends in nicely. There's a shopping strip on either side of the hotel—also rustic—and the signage is standardized and not at all junky." This was high praise coming from someone who taught art in the public schools. "I must admit, though, that you can smell fudge all over the island."

"And horses," said her husband. "It's a heady combination, let me tell you! Since motor vehicles are prohibited, visitors hire carriages or hail horse cabs or rent bicycles or walk."

"Can you picture -the traffic jam when that little island is cluttered with hordes of bicycles and strollers and sightseeing carriages?" Qwilleran asked with a hint of belligerence.

Polly Duncan laid a hand softly on his arm. "Qwill, dear, should we attribute your negative attitude to guilt? If so, banish the thought!"

Qwilleran winced. There was some painful truth in her well-intended statement. It was his own money that had financed, to a great degree, the development of the island. Having inherited the enormous Klingenschoen fortune based in Moose County, he had established the Klingenschoen Foundation to distribute megamillions for the betterment of the community, thus relieving himself of responsibility. A host of changes had resulted, some of which he questioned. Nevertheless, he adhered to his policy of hands-off.

Polly continued, with sincere enthusiasm. "Think how much the K Foundation has done for the schools, health care, and literacy! If it weren't for Klingenschoen backing, we wouldn't have a good newspaper and plans for a community college!"

Riker said, "The Pear Island Hotel alone will provide three hundred jobs, many of them much-needed summer work for young people. We pointed that out on our editorial page. Also, the influx of tourists will pour millions into the local economy over a period of time. At the press preview, I met the editor of the Lockmaster Ledger, and he told me that Lockmaster County is green with envy. They say we have an offshore goldmine. One has to admire XYZ for undertaking such a herculean project. Everything had to be shipped over on barges: building materials, heavy equipment, furniture! Talk about giving yourself a few problems!"

The man with a prominent moustache huffed into it with annoyance.

"Why fight it, Qwill? Isn't the K Foundation a philanthropic institution? Isn't it mandated to do what's best for the community?"

Qwilleran shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've kept my nose out of the operation because I know nothing about business and finance—and care even less—but if I had offered more input, the directors might have balanced economic improvement with environmental foresight. More and more I'm concerned about the future of our planet."

"Well, you have a point there," Riker admitted. "Let's drink to environmental conscience!" he said jovially, waving his empty glass at a tall serving person, who was hovering nearby. Derek Cuttlebrink was obviously listening to their conversation. "Another Scotch, Derek."

"No more for me," said Mildred.

Polly was still sipping her first glass of sherry.

Qwilleran shook his head, having downed two glasses of a local mineral water.

Everyone was ready to order, and Riker inquired if there were any specials.

"Chicken Florentine," said the server, making a disagreeable face.

The four diners glanced at each other, and Mildred said, "Oh, no!"

They consulted the menu, and the eventual choice was trout for Mildred, sweetbreads for Polly, and rack of lamb for the two men. Then Qwilleran returned to the subject: "Why did they change it to Pear Island? I say that Breakfast Island has a friendly and appetizing connotation."

"It won't do any good to complain," Riker told him. "XYZ Enterprises has spent a fortune on wining and dining travel editors, and every travel page in the country has hailed the discovery of Pear Island. Anyway, that's what it's called on the map, and it happens to be pear-shaped. Furthermore, surveys indicate that a sophisticated market Down Below finds "Pear Island" more appealing than "Breakfast Island," according to Don Exbridge." He referred to the X in XYZ Enterprises.

"They like the pear's erotic shape," Qwilleran grumbled. "As a fruit it's either underripe or overripe, mealy or gritty, with a choice of mild flavor or no flavor."

Mildred protested. "I insist there's nothing to equal a beautiful russet-colored Bosc with a wedge of Roquefort!"