“Melody had a twin brother who was severely retarded. She was a perfect child, but he was defective in every way. The parents were so ashamed of the boy that they kept him hidden away in a back bedroom with a nurse, never spending any time with him, or taking him outside, or even discussing him with their friends and neighbors. Melody loved her brother very much, though, and spent as much time with him as her parents would allow-which was a lot, since they went to their country club every night of the week and left both children in the nurse’s care.
“Melody played with her brother and took naps with him when they were young, and later, as they grew older, she sang to him, and tried to teach him how to eat and speak and dress himself. He never made much progress, but Melody refused to give up hope. She dreamed of becoming a famous singer when she grew up so she could earn enough to support them both. She wanted to buy a beautiful house for them to live in together, far away from their parents’ rejection and repression.
“But one day, during her senior year in high school, Melody came home after school and discovered that her brother was gone. Her parents had packed him up and shipped him off to a New York State mental institution without ever telling her of their plans. Melody became hysterical and begged them to bring her twin back home to Vermont, but they wouldn’t listen to her plea, or even tell her where in New York he’d been sent. They had washed their hands of him. They wanted him out of their lives for good.
“Melody was desolate. She felt like half a person without her twin, and she vowed they would be reunited someday, no matter how long it took her to find him. Therefore, shortly after her graduation, she convinced her parents to let her move to Manhattan, where she took a room in a women’s boarding-house, went to work at her uncle’s accounting firm, and- without the knowledge of anyone in her family-launched an all-out search for her brother.
“Six weeks of sleepless nights and countless phone calls later, she found him. He had been committed to the Willowbrook State School on Staten Island under his real name. Melody went to see her brother the very next day, and was horrified to discover that Willowbrook was more of a prison than a school-a penitentiary for the mentally retarded. The enormous stone-walled facility was cold, overcrowded, and deplorably filthy, and many of the residents showed signs of physical abuse. Disease-most commonly hepatitis-was rampant.
“Melody wanted to take her brother home with her that day, but the school authorities refused to release him. They said the parents would have to give their permission in person, or in a witnessed and notarized letter sent by certified mail. And such an occurrence was highly unlikely, they insisted, since her brother had been legally committed to the institution for the rest of his natural life.
“Melody didn’t know where to turn. She knew her parents would be furious if they learned of her desire to take her brother out of Willowbrook, and she couldn’t ask her uncle for help, for fear he would inform her parents of her intentions. She also knew she couldn’t take care of her brother by herself. He didn’t remember who she was, and during the seven months he’d been institutionalized, he had regressed to a near feral state.
“In desperation, Melody concluded that the only way she could save her brother’s life was by making a lot of money. If she had enough money, she reasoned, she could bribe the Willowbrook officials to release her brother to her, and then she could put him in a private establishment-a place with clean, decent living conditions and humane, round-the-clock supervision and health care. A nice place close to the city, where she could visit him every week.
“First she tried earning the money by singing, but after two weekends working for pennies at one of the Village cafés, Melody realized it could take her a lifetime to raise the kind of cash she needed. That’s when she came to me.” Sabrina paused for a moment, sat up straighter in her chair, raked her fingers through her hair, and went on. “She had seen my ad in the paper, and even after I explained to her what working for an escort agency really meant, she begged me to take her on.
“At first I flatly refused. She was a virgin, for God’s sake! But after she broke down in hysterics, and told me why she had to have the money, and swore she’d become a prostitute for somebody else if I didn’t hire her… well, I was forced to rethink the matter. I couldn’t, in good conscience, let her fall into the hands of a pimp like Charlotte ’s. I agreed to handle her on one condition: that she let me start her off slow and easy-with a certain client who couldn’t afford to pay top dollar but who I knew would be a gentle lover and teacher. She accepted my terms, we sealed the bargain with a cup of tea, and then I advanced her enough money to pull her brother out of Willowbrook and put him in a reputable private facility in Brooklyn.
“After several weeks, when she was fully qualified and prepared, I began arranging dates for Melody with my wealthiest clients. And they were so entranced with her youth and beauty that she quickly became their favorite. Her services were requested so often and so regularly that she managed to pay back her advance within the year. And soon after that-as a result of her ongoing earnings as a call girl-she was able to assume complete responsibility for her brother’s monthly maintenance and expenses.
“In order to keep her brother’s whereabouts and her means of supporting him concealed from their parents, Melody continued working at her uncle’s accounting firm during the day. And late at night, when she got home from her appointments and could grab a little time for herself, she worked on her music. She still hoped to become a successful singer and songwriter, and looked forward to the day she could rely on her musical rather than her sexual skills to support herself and her twin.
“And I believe with all my heart that she would have reached that goal,” Sabrina said, collapsing against the back of her chair and drawing her sad tale to its tragic conclusion, “if she had lived long enough.”
Chapter 22
SABRINA WAS EXHAUSTED. HER PAINSTAKING narration of Virginia ’s short, unhappy life had taken its toll. I could see that she wanted me to leave. She wanted to take a hot bath, wash away the past, put on a clean dress and a fresh face, and focus her remaining energy on the day ahead.
But I wasn’t ready to give up.
“What will become of Melody’s brother now?” I asked. “Will he be sent back to Willowbrook?”
“Over my dead body. I’ll pay all his expenses and watch over him from now on. It’s the least I can do. I’ll have to keep his location-actually his existence-under wraps, though, or outside parties might intervene. That’s why I didn’t want you to know about him, Paige, for fear you wouldn’t keep the secret. Please swear to me you’ll never breathe a word of this to anybody.”
“I swear,” I said without hesitation, pledging my solemn allegiance to Melody as well as Sabrina.
As I made that wholehearted promise, I realized that-at some point during the emotionally charged morning-my relationship with Sabrina had undergone a complete transformation. We were confidantes now, not combatants. In sync instead of at odds. She wasn’t acting aloof and secretive anymore because she had no more secrets to keep. And I didn’t doubt her motives anymore because I finally understood them. In short, we had come to trust each other.
“Do you think I should talk to Melody’s uncle?” I asked. “His office is on 23rd Street, not too far from here. Maybe he knows something that could lead us to the killer.”
“Don’t waste your time. The man knew nothing about Melody’s real life, so it’s safe to conclude he knows nothing about her death. Also, if you start making inquiries about his niece, you’ll alert him to the fact that there’s more to her murder than meets the eye. And then he’ll alarm Melody’s parents, which could lead to more grief and trouble for all concerned, including Melody’s brother. Better steer clear of the uncle, Paige. Let sleeping dogs lie.”