Future Crimes Part 15

Phoebe intoned: "He hath borne grudges a thousand times against me."

"He helped you!" Gil shouted from the audience.

"My gorge rises at it," she said coldly.

LaB oz groped for the volume dial, turned off the sound. Silent images moved back and forth over the stage, Phoebe immobile in their midst.

"He saved the festival for you, Phoebe," Gil said heatedly.

"How can you be so thankless?"

It was hard to read Phoebe's expression with the projected images moving over her face.

"And do we simply ignore the fact that he was the reason the festival almost closed in the first place?"

"That's not true."

"What festival?" Kimmel asked LaB oz

"Local music festival. Phoebe was in charge a couple of years ago."

"Gil, it is true," Phoebe was saying.

"He knew you and I were on the verge of splitting and he wanted to obligate me to the family, to keep me from embarra.s.sing his little boy.

He bought up all our debts and then had his agent call them in. Just so he could step in at the eleventh hour with his big bankroll and play the rescuing hero."

"That's preposterous."

"And it didn't work. I left anyway. That sort of highhanded interference was so typical of your father.

And Gil--you were growing more like him every day."

A holographic funeral procession entered in phantom silence from upstage right, then started crossing slowly and majestically to the grave.

"For G.o.d's sake, somebody turn that thing off!" Milo's voice called out shrilly.

LaB oz took care of it. The graveyard and its spectral figures vanished; a white, harsh light flooded the stage. Kimmel walked out from the wings and faced Gil.

"You need to learn how to listen, Gil. You've idealized your father to the point of unrecognizability."

Gil made a dismissive gesture.

"You have to paint him a villain to justify your own actions. Phoebe, do you know what he did when I told him you'd gone? He threw up.

That's how much he wanted you to stay."

"That was never the question, Gil. Of course he wanted me to stay. A disgruntled ex-spouse is always a vulnerable spot."

"He was so upset he couldn't think straight." Gil spoke slowly and with emphasis.

"He couldn't protect himself in the clinches. His defenses were down."

Phoebe eyed him suspiciously.

"Now you're saying I am responsible for his death?"

"You are responsible."

"Are you out of your mind? Do you think / got Milo to push him overboard?"

"/ can't stand it!" Milo roared.

Shalimar stood up.

"Gil, you've accused everyone here except LaB oz Do you have any idea what you're talking about?"

Milo was pounding the back of the seat in front of him.

"I--did--not--push him overboard! / did not push him."

Gil looked at him a long moment--and then said:

"No, of course you didn't, Milo. I never for one minute thought you did." Five startled faces turned toward him.

"Sit down, all of you .. . please. 1*11 try to explain." He stood with his back to the stage facing them when they were all seated.

LaB oz I apologize for dragging you through all this. I just needed one friendly face to look at."

LaB oz smiled, nodded.

"As for the rest of you," Gil went on, "I apologize for nothing. I accused each of you in turn because I wanted you to face your own roles in my father's death. Oh, there was no murder in the legal sense-he really did lose his footing and fall overboard, just as the investigators said. He cracked his head on the anchor chain ... a gruesome way to die. But it wasn't murder. It was an accident."

Phoebe was frowning.

"Then why .. . ?

"Because you four did kill him, you know. At least, the four of you created a set of circ.u.mstances that resulted in a man's death. That was not your intention--but you contributed, in various ways and in varying degrees."

Kimmel snorted.

"Finger pointing."

"You started it, Kimmel," Gil said.

"If it weren't for that stupid, vicious rivalry between the two of you ... all my life I heard Gotta get Kimmel. That was the atmosphere I grew up in." He turned to Phoebe.

"It was too rich an atmosphere for my loving wife."

"Too noxious an atmosphere," she corrected.

"Tell me something. Did you leave me--or did you leave my father?"

"What difference does it make? You were becoming indistinguishable."

He nodded.

"So you walked out just as the Ferrence Transportation deal was coming to a head. You threw him off-balance at a time he needed to be especially sharp. And so he lost out to Kimmel. I don't know why Ferrence was so important to him. But he was crushed at losing it."

Gil paused, gathered his thoughts.

"Phoebe, you knew how much that deal meant to him. You timed your departure to coincide with the final stages of the negotiations. You chose a moment to leave that would hurt him most."

Phoebe actually smiled.

"t.i.t for tat."

"So one reason my father is dead is that his old enemy defeated him in what was more than just another contest. Another reason is that that defeat was made possible by his own son's wife. Phoebe and Kimmel--you two started him on his downhill slide. The other two of you had a chance to stop that slide--but you didn't."