Изменить стиль страницы

“Something like that would be tough for a squeamish man to take.”

All three of them disgusted him. He’d always despised children; the idea of triplets made him ill. He was the ultimate engineer- accustomed to machine specifications, precision. Had absolutely no tolerance for anything that deviated from his expectations. Of course, Joan’s deformities were an additional insult- the implication that he’d taken part in creating something defective. I knew him, knew how he’d react. I wanted to keep all of it from him, work things out in my own way. But Cable wanted it all, right now. Kinfolk. Linda had held on to a key to Leland’s office. She went there one night when he was working late, brought the babies.”

He shook his head. “The poor, stupid girl, believing the sight of them would ignite his paternal pride. He listened to her, told her what she wanted to hear. The moment she was gone he phoned me and ordered me over for a ‘problem solving session.’ Not that he wanted my input- he’d come to a decision: All of them would have to be eliminated. Permanently. I was to be the angel of death.”

“The babies were supposed to be killed?”

He nodded.

“All the villainy foisted on a dead man,” I said. “Some good storm trooper carried out the order.”

He drank, hacked, pulled a squeeze bottle out of his pocket and sprayed his throat.

“I saved those babies,” he said. “Only I could have done it; only I had enough of Leland’s trust to disagree with him and get away with it. I told him infanticide was absolutely out of the question. If it ever came out he’d be ruined- Magna would be ruined.”

“A pragmatic approach.”

“The only one he understood. I pointed out that the babies could be given up for adoption in such a way that any link to him would be permanently obscured. That he could draft a new will specifically excluding any blood relatives, known or unknown, from inheriting a dime. At first he didn’t want to hear it, kept insisting the only way out was the ‘unambiguous option.’ I told him I’d carried out his assignments without questioning, but I’d quit before carrying out this one. And if those babies died, I couldn’t guarantee my silence. Was he prepared to eliminate me, as well?

“That angered- and shocked- him. From childhood no one had ever told him no. But he respected me for standing up to him, eventually agreed to my plan.”

“Nifty plan,” I said. “Including a consolation prize for your sister.”

“It was just after Henry’s death. She’d sunk into a deep depression- widowhood, childlessness. Had been in seclusion since the funeral. I thought having the girls would do wonders for her. And she’s not an imaginative woman. Would never ask where they came from, never want to know.”

“Was Joan included in the deal?”

“No. That Hope couldn’t have handled. The corporation purchased a sanitarium in Connecticut, and Joan was placed there. She got excellent care. In the process, we learned about health care management, ended up buying up several other hospitals.”

“New names, new lives,” I said. “Except for the Johnsons. Was it you or Belding who thought of the dope dealer angle?”

“That… it wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did.”

“I’m sure Linda and Cable would be comforted to know that.”

He tried to speak. Nothing came out. Atomized his throat, waited, and produced soft tones dry as a death rattle.

“It was never intended that Linda would… be part of it. She wasn’t supposed to be there, was supposed to be out shopping. She posed no threat. With her brother out of the way, she could have been dealt with. I would have dealt with her. But her car didn’t work; she was phoning for a taxi when things started to happen. Cable grabbed her, the filth, used her as a shield. She was shot by accident.”

“No way,” I said. “She wouldn’t have let her children be taken from her without a fuss. She had to die. You either knew that from the beginning or chose not to see it when you set up the bust. That glitzy suite on Fountain- all the jewels, furs, cars- were to lull her and Cable into thinking Belding was agreeing to their terms. But both of them were dead the moment she stepped into his office with those babies.”

“You’re wrong. Dr. Delaware. I had everything arranged.”

“Let’s give you the benefit, then, and say someone rearranged your arrangement.”

He gripped the edge of the table. The look in his eyes overpowered the tan, the clothes, all that cultivated charm.

“No,” he croaked. “It was a mistake. Her idiot scum brother killed her- using her the way he’d always done.”

“Maybe he did. But Hummel and DeGranzfeld would have killed her anyway on Belding’s orders. He was pleased with the job they’d done, rewarded them with Vegas jobs.”

He said nothing for a long time. Something- could it be real?- seemed to be eating at him, devouring him from within. He looked through me. Back into another time.

“Nonsense,” he said.

“Are you the father?” I asked.

Another long silence. “I don’t know.” Then: “Leland and I have the same blood type: O positive. Along with thirty-nine percent of the population.”

“Nowadays there are precise tests.”

“What would be the point?” His voice rose, cracked and died. “I saved them. Placed them in a good home. It was enough.”

“Not for Sharon. She ended up naked, eating mayonnaise from a jar. Another plan gone wrong?”

He closed his eyes, grimaced, getting older by the second. “It was for the good of both of them.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Sherry was a frightening child. I’d seen the signs of violence in her from the time she could walk. It worried me. I wondered about a bad seed- the Johnsons came from a long line of miscreants. Eventually it became clear that Hope couldn’t handle both of them. Sharon was being persecuted- battered. It was escalating steadily. Something had to be done. When Sherry tried to drown her, I knew the time had come. But Leland couldn’t find out about it. He’d forgotten completely about them, hadn’t mentioned a word since the transfer. I knew he’d regard any change in plans as evidence that my way of dealing with the situation wasn’t working. Would insist on doing it his way.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That Sharon had accidentally drowned. That set well with him.”

His lips began to tremble. He placed a manicured hand over his mouth to conceal the loss of control.

“Why banish Sharon?” I said. “Why not Sherry?”

“Because Sherry was the one who bore watching- she was unstable, a loaded gun. Having her out there unsupervised was too risky- for both of them.”

“That’s not the only reason,” I said.

“No. Hope wanted it that way. She felt closer to Sherry, felt Sherry needed her more.”

“Punish the victim,” I said. “From a mansion to a dirt patch. Two retarded people as caretakers.”

“They were good people,” he said. He began coughing and, unable to stop, shook his head from side to side, gasping for breath. His eyes filled with water and he had to hold on to the table for support.

Finally he was able to speak, but so softly I had to lean forward to hear: “Good people. They’d worked for me. I knew they could be trusted. The arrangement was supposed to be temporary- a way to buy time for Sharon until I came up with something else.”

“A way to wipe out her identity,” I said.

“For her sake!” His whisper was harsh, insistent. “I’d never have done anything to harm her.”

Hand to mouth, again. Uncontrollable coughing. He placed a silk handkerchief to his lips, spit something into it.

“Excuse me,” he said. Then: “She had her mother’s face.”

“So did Sherry.”

“No, no. Sherry had the features. But not the face.”

We said nothing for a long time. Then, suddenly, as if forcing his way out of a sentimental stupor, he sat up, snapped his fingers. The waiter brought him a glass of ice water and was gone. He drank, cleared his throat, touched his Adam’s apple, swallowed hard. Forcing a smile, but looking drained, defeated. A man who’d sailed through life in first class, only to find out the cruise had gone nowhere.