Galilee. Part 39

Mitch.e.l.l made no further attempt to convince her. He left the room without another word.

"Brat," Loretta remarked quietly.

"I'd better go and calm him down," Richard said.

"Why don't we all just go home to bed?" Norah suggested.

"I think that's probably a very good idea," Loretta said. "Rachel... would you stay just a couple of minutes? I need to have a word with you."

The rest of the company departed. When the last of them had gone, and the door was closed Loretta said: "I noticed you didn't eat."

"I wasn't hungry."

"Lovesick?" Rachel said nothing. "It'll pa.s.s," Loretta went on. "You'll have plenty to distract you in the next few days." She sipped on her white wine. "You've got nothing to hide," she said.

"We've all felt what you're feeling now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Him," Loretta said quietly. "Galilee. I'm talking about Galilee." Rachel looked up, and found Loretta's eyes there, ready to read her. "Was he all you wanted him to be?" she asked.

"I told you. I don't... know..."

Loretta looked pained. "There's no need for deceit," she said, "lie to Mitch.e.l.l, by all means. Butnot to me." She kept looking at Rachel; as if waiting for her to spill her pain. Greedy for it, in fact.

"Why should I lie to Mitch.e.l.l?" Rachel said, determined to deflect this interrogation by gaze.

"Because it's all he deserves," Loretta said flatly. "He was born with too many blessings for his own good. It's made him stupid. If he'd had a harelip he'd have been twice the man he is."

"So I take it you think I'm rather stupid too."

"Why would I think that?"

"I married him."

"Brilliant women marry perfect clods every day of the week. Sometimes you have to do that to get on in the world. If you're a shoe-girl in a shoestore and if you don't get out all you'll ever do is sell shoes then by G.o.d you do everything in your power to change your circ.u.mstances. There's no shame in that. You did what you had to do. And now you're finished with him. And there's no shame in that either." She paused for a moment, as if to allow time for Rachel to respond; but this little speech had left Rachel dumbstruck. "Is it really so hard to admit to?" Loretta went on. "If I were you I'd be proud of myself. I really would."

"Proud of what?"

"Now you're being obtuse," Loretta said, "and it's not worthy of you. What are you afraid of?"

"I just don't know... I don't know why you're talking this way to me when we scarcely know one another and... well, to be honest I thought you didn't really like me."

"Oh I like you well enough," Loretta said. "But liking isn't really the point any more, is it? We need one another, Rachel."

"For what?"

"For self-protection. Whatever your dense husband thinks, he's not going to be running the Geary empire."

"Why not?"

"Because he's inheriting a lot more than he'll be able to deal with. He'll crack. He's already cracking because he doesn't have Garrison to hold his hand."

"What if Garrison gets off?"

"I don't think there's any 'what if?' about it. He'll get off. But there's other stuff, just waiting to be uncovered. His women, for one thing.""So he has a mistress. n.o.body's going to care."

"You know what he likes to do?" Loretta said. "He likes to hire women to play dead. Doll themselves up to look like corpses and lie there and be violated. That's one of his milder obsessions."

"Oh my G.o.d..."

"He's been getting more indiscreet over the last year or so. In fact, I think he wants to get caught.

There are some photographs..."

"Of what?"

"You don't need to know," Loretta said. "Just take it from me that if the least disgusting of them was to be made public Garrison's little circle of influence would disappear overnight."

"And who has these pictures?" Loretta smiled. "You?" Rachel said. "You've got them?"

Loretta smoothed out a wrinkle in the tablecloth, her tone completely detached. "I'm not going to sit back and watch a necrophile and his idiot brother take charge of all this family owns. AD this family stands for." She looked up from the smoothed linen. "The point is: we all have to take sides. You can either work with me to make sure we don't lose everything when Cadmus dies, or you can run to Mitch.e.l.l and tell him I'm conspiring against the two of them, and take your chances with them. It's up to you."

"Why are you trusting me now?" Rachel said. "Because Margie's dead?"

"G.o.d, no. She was no use to me. She was too far gone. Garrison again. G.o.d knows what he put Margie through, behind locked doors."

"She'd never have put up with-"

"With playing dead on a Sat.u.r.day night? I think a lot of women do that and a lot worse to keep their husbands happy."

"So you still haven't answered my question. Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Because now there's something you want and I can help you get it."

There was a long silence. Then Rachel said: "Galilee?"

Loretta nodded. "Who else?" she said. "In the end, everything comes back to Galilee."

IV.

iUnder normal circ.u.mstances Rachel would have hated the Hospital Benefit Gala. It was exactly the kind of grand, glittering event which had come to seem like an unpleasant duty after a few months of marriage: all gla.s.sy gazes and frigid smiles. But circ.u.mstances had changed. For one thing, Mitch.e.l.l was wary of her, which she liked. Several times during the evening when she strayed from his side for some innocent reason he came to join her and quietly told her to stay close by. When she asked him why he told her he didn't want her cornered by some inquisitive sonofab.i.t.c.h who'd pump her for information about Garrison, to which she replied that she was quite capable of talking her way out of a difficult situation, and anyway what did she know that was worth gossiping about?

"You're making a fool of me," he said when he caught up with her for the fourth time. There was fury in his eyes, but he had to perfection the trick of maintaining a benign expression despite his true feelings; the accusations emerged through an opulent smile. "I don't want you talking to anybody-do you understand me: anybody-without me right there with you. I'm perfectly serious, Rachel."

"I'm going to go where the h.e.l.l I like and say whatever I feel like saying, Mitch.e.l.l, and neither you nor your brother nor Cecil nor Cadmus nor any other d.a.m.n Geary is going to stop me."

"Garrison'll destroy you, you know that," Mitch.e.l.l said. He wasn't even attempting to smile any longer.

Rachel was incredulous. "You sound like a bad imitation of a gangster."

"But he will. He's not going to let you get away with anything."

"G.o.d, you are so infantile. Now you're going to set your big brother on me?"

"I'm just trying to warn you."

"No. You're trying to frighten me. And it's not going to work."

He looked away for a moment, to see that n.o.body was close enough to hear him. "Who do you think's going to be there to help you if you get into trouble?" he said. "We're the only real family you've got, baby. The only people you could turn to if things got nasty."

Rachel was beginning to feel faintly sick. There was no mistaking what Mitch was saying.

"I think I need to go home," she told him.

"You know, you do look a little flushed," he said, his hand going up to her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired," she said.

"I'll take you down to the street.""I'll be all right."

"No," he said, linking his arm through hers, and drawing her close to him. "I'll go with you."

Together they made their way through the crowd, pausing a couple of times so that Mitch.e.l.l could exchange a few words with someone he knew. Rachel made little attempt to play the attentive wife; she slipped his hold and moved on toward the door after a few seconds, leaving him to follow her.

"We should talk some more," he said once they reached the street.

"About what? I have nothing to say to you."

"Just because we'd had some hard times-hear me out, Rachel please-that doesn't mean we have to throw up our hands and let everything we ever had, everything we ever felt for one another, go to h.e.l.l. We should talk. We really should." He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I want the best for you."

"Is that why you threatened me in there?" Rachel said.

"If it came out that way then I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry, it's not what I meant at all. I just want you to see things the way I see them." She stared at him, hoping he felt her contempt. "I've got a much better picture of the situation right now," he said. "I have more... information about the way things are. And I know-trust me, Rachel, I know-that you're not in a safe place."

"I'll take the risk."

"Rachel-"

"Go to h.e.l.l," she told him very calmly.

The chauffeur was out of the car, opening the door for her.

"Call me tomorrow," Mitch.e.l.l said. She ignored him. "We're not done yet, Rachel."

"You can dose the door," she told the driver, who obliged her, leaving a muted Mitch.e.l.l standing on the sidewalk, looking both irritated and faintly forlorn.

ii As she stepped out of the car at the other end of her journey, a young bespectacled man-who'd been out of sight behind the potted cypress at the door-stepped into view.

"Mrs. Geary?" he said. "I have to talk to you." He was dressed in what her mother would have called his Sunday best: a powder-blue suit; a thin black tie; polished shoes. His blond hair was trimmed close to his scalp, but the severity of the cut didn't spoil the amiability of his features.His face was round, his nose and mouth small; his eyes soft and anxious.

"Please hear me out," he begged, though Rachel had done nothing to indicate that she would ignore him. "It's very important." He glanced nervously toward the security guard who kept twenty-four-hour vigilance at the door of her building. "I'm not crazy. And I'm not begging. It's-"

"Is he causing a problem here, Mrs. Geary?" the guard wanted to know.

"-it's about Margie," the young man said hurriedly. His voice had dropped to a whisper.

"What about her?"

"We knew one another," the young man said. "My name's Danny."

"The barman?"

"Yeah. The barman."

"Do you want to just go inside, Mrs. Geary?" the guard went on. "I can deal with this guy for you."

"No, he's okay," Rachel said. Then, to Danny: "You'd better come on in."

"No, I think I'd feel safer if we just walked."

"All right, we'll walk."

At Danny's request they crossed to the other side of the street, and walked under the trees around the park.

"Why all the secrecy?" she asked him. "You're not in any danger."

"I don't trust the family. Margie said they were like the Mafia."

"Margie exaggerated."

"She also said you were the only one worth a d.a.m.n."

"That's nice to hear."

"She loved you so much, you know?"

"I loved her," Rachel said. "She was a wonderful lady."

"So she told you about me?""A little. She said she had a younger man in her life. Boasted, really."

"We got on great. She liked my martinis and I... I thought she was like somebody you'd see in a movie, you know?"

"Larger than life."

"Right. Larger than life."

"She never did anything by halves, that's for sure."