Better Than This (26 page)

Sally looked at me and I could see she wasn’t buying it. I knew what she was thinking, I could see it in her eyes as clearly as if it was written there. She was afraid the fragile dream she’d entertained that from now on everything would be okay, that our lives would become normal, was beginning to disintegrate.

She pushed aside her meal. “I’m not hungry.”

Brinkman called the next morning to give me the news. “Leonard Hoffman is dead,” he said, after Stacey put him through.

“Dead? That’s terrible,” I said, affecting disbelief. “I knew he was sick of course, but still…” I was lost for words. “When did it happen?”

“A few days ago apparently. Obviously that’s why he failed to arrive for our meeting yesterday.”

“That would explain it,” I agreed.

Brinkman paused, a silent censure of my inappropriate humour. He went on, “When I didn’t hear from him I contacted the authorities. He died in his apartment.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause, then he said, “Incidentally, my secretary told me you called to say you couldn’t make it back yesterday. She said you wanted to reschedule.”

He tried to make his remark sound casual. Difficult in the circumstances, but especially when he couldn’t conceal the hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Yes. Something came up.”

“It must have been important.”

“It was.” I decided it was time to move our conversation on. “You’re still the executor of Hoffman’s trust I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“I mean what’s happened is terrible, but Hoffman knew he was dying. I assume we sign the contract with you and everything goes ahead as planned.”

In the silence that followed I imagined Brinkman sitting at his desk across town, trying to figure out all the angles. “Well, of course this is all unexpected. I’ll need to look at exactly what the provisions of the trust are,” he answered evasively. “In the meantime I think we ought to delay putting any plans in place. I assume you have a copy of the program at your office?”

Of course he knew Hoffman would never have given us a copy before a contract had been signed, so was he just fishing or did he already suspect something? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t ready to admit anything until I had a better idea of what he intended to do.

“So, how long will that take, for you to look into the trust provisions?” I asked.

“That depends,” he answered. “These matters aren’t always straightforward.”

“But you drew up the trust yourself didn’t you? And nothing’s really changed except that Hoffman died sooner than he expected to.”

“There may be some legal issues to explore.”

I wasn’t sure if he was delaying because he didn’t want to admit the program was missing, or if it was because I’d been right about him, that if he got his hands on the program we could kiss goodbye to the original deal. Probably any deal.

There was a short silence. “Actually there may be a problem,” he admitted finally.

“A problem?”

There’s some uncertainty as to where exactly the program is.”

I counted to four, as if I was absorbing the implications of this. “I don’t follow.”

“I mean,” he said, his voice tightly controlled, ‘that it’s missing. The police think that somebody may have broken into Hoffman’s apartment before his body was discovered.”

I allowed a pause, then I said, “Are you telling me somebody stole it?” I tried to sound incredulous.

“That’s the way it looks.”

“I can’t believe this. Who would do that? Who else knew about it? It’s not something Hoffman would have made general knowledge.”

“A good question.” Brinkman made it sound loaded with meaning. So, he did suspect it was me, I thought.

I waited. I thought about the neighbour who’d opened her door and who must have seen Marcus and me in the hall. Though it was gloomy and she couldn’t have had more than a fleeting impression of us, she might have recognized us from our previous visit. But if she’d already told this to the police I doubted we would be having this conversation over the phone. More likely a squad of cops with Brinkman looking on would have descended on us in the early hours of the morning.

“So, what happens now?” I asked.

“Well, assuming that somebody is in possession of the program, it won’t do them any good,” Brinkman said. “Anyone trying to sell it will find themselves arrested and charged.”

He allowed a pause, to be certain I absorbed what he was telling me.

“Of course, once the program is recovered, we can proceed with the contract as planned.”

“I thought you needed to look at the provisions of the trust,” I reminded him.

“That’s true. But I’m sure if there are any details that need to be adjusted they will be minor ones.”

It seemed clear to me that Brinkman had strong suspicions, but the problem I was beginning to see, was that if I admitted that he was right, and I used that fact to hold him to signing any kind of deal there was nothing stopping him from reneging straight away. No contract entered into under those circumstances would ever stand scrutiny in court. He could alter the trust, make any kind of claim and not only sue us but have us charged with stealing, as well as maybe adding extortion, blackmail and fraud which were all federal crimes. Enough to land Marcus and me in jail for fifty years anyway. We were at an impasse. I didn’t see how I could possibly admit anything until I’d had a chance to think this through.

I told Brinkman to let me know if there were any developments. He seemed surprised when it was clear I was going to hang up.

Sally was home before me, and as soon as I walked through the door I knew she’d been thinking all day about what I’d done. She asked if I’d spoken to Brinkman, and when I said that I had she appeared to steel herself a little.

“What happened?”

I told her what he’d said. “I still don’t trust him.”

“So, you didn’t tell him you had the program?”

“No.”

Her mouth tightened. “What are you going to do?” she asked sharply.

“I thought this was something we should all discuss. I asked Marcus to come round later.” I thought she’d be pleased that I wasn’t planning to do anything without everyone else agreeing and having their say first. Instead her expression was clouded by all kinds of emotions I couldn’t interpret. I knew she was angry, disappointed in me even, but it seemed there was more than that.

“I need to get changed.” She turned and fled the room.

I went after her but when I reached the bedroom she went into the bathroom and closed the door. A moment later I heard the shower turned on. I got changed myself and by the time I was ready she hadn’t come out so I went to the bathroom door but paused before I went in. I didn’t know what I would say to her. Perhaps it would be better, I thought, to wait for Marcus to arrive, so that all of us could discuss what we should do.

I went downstairs and opened a bottle of wine and took some glasses into the living room. When Sally came down it was almost eight. She gave an edgy smile.

I went over. “We’re just going to talk,” I said. I leaned to kiss her, but she moved and my lips brushed her cheek instead of her mouth.

“I think I heard a car.”

“Right.”

I went to the door to let Marcus in and was surprised to find he wasn’t alone. Alice offered me a thin smile. She was dressed in jeans that clung to her long legs and a fitted white “I-shirt. As she stepped past, ignoring my evident surprise she offered me a look that would have frozen an Eskimo.

“You’re back together?” I said quietly to Marcus.

He hesitated, then shook his head. I could only assume that he imagined they would be, however, at some point, and had therefore decided she had as much right to be involved as any of us. I didn’t like it, especially as I saw Alice wouldn’t make the job of persuading the others round to my way of thinking any easier, but I could see I didn’t have a choice.

Sally was waiting in the living room, a glass of wine already in her hand. She forced a brief smile and for a second or two we made an uncomfortable foursome. This was the first time we’d all been together since the night of the exhibition. Alice emanated coldness and the tension between her and Marcus was palpable. Add to that how things were between Sally and me and between Marcus and me and it seemed like everybody was doing their best to avoid looking directly at anybody else. The room was charged with invisible currents.

I poured wine and passed the glasses around and when I reached Alice she accepted hers with a curl of her lip.

“What are we celebrating? Or is this a wake? That must be it. We can drink to Mr. Hoffman and to the demise of Carpe Diem at the same time.” She looked at each of us with a sardonic gleam in her eye. “Isn’t this nice. All of us together again.” She raised her glass in an ironic toast. “To the great Nick Weston. Entrepreneur extraordinaire.”

“This isn’t helpful,” I said. “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh really? I’m sorry, is that why we’re here? And what things exactly do we have to discuss?” She gave me a caustic smile. “I knew it was all too good to be true. I told Marcus you would end up ruining us all and I was right.”

“Alice…” Marcus said.

“No, let her say what’s on her mind.” I figured we may as well get it out of the way.

“You mean I have your permission to speak?” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I’m so grateful.”

“If it’s going to make you feel any better,” I told her.

“Don’t patronize me! It’s because of you we’re here in the first place remember. I knew as soon as I heard all about this Hoffman character that it would be another one of your schemes that ends in disaster. And I was right. It’s all turned to dust and what’s going to happen now? I’ll tell you, the bank is going to call in your loan and that will be the end of Carpe Diem, not to mention that none of us will have anywhere to live. Congratulations, Nick Weston strikes again!”

Both Marcus and Sally were looking on apprehensively, uncertain what to expect. I’d had enough of Alice. Even if what she was saying was partly true I didn’t have to listen to her rub my face in it.

“You know, I don’t even know why I should have to take this crap from you,” I said. “I don’t even know what it has to do with you anyway.”

“What the hell does that mean? It has as much to do with me as it does Sally,” she said.

“Sally and I are married. We’ve been together for almost nine years. You didn’t even know Marcus when we started Carpe Diem. Not that you let that get in the way of having your say whenever you felt like it.”

“And why shouldn’t I have a say? Maybe you could walk all over Marcus but you can’t do it to me. You just hate that don’t you? You like to have things all your own way. You make all the decisions and Marcus has to go along whether he agrees with you or not. Because you know best. Isn’t that so, Nick? You’ve always resented me because I tried to get him to stand up to you.”

“I resented you?” I said in disbelief. “That’s rich. You know what your trouble is, Alice. You hate it that I make a living from something as low and detestable as advertising, while you with your precious fucking art scratch around to make a few hundred dollars here and there. That’s what this is all about. Plain and simple. And now you’re pissed off because you’re going to lose the comfortable lifestyle you’ve been enjoying over there in Sausalito. The cozy house, your studio, all of it paid for by Marcus.”

My voice was raised, and I was enjoying every second of this. I was finally getting off my chest some of the stuff I’d always felt.

“But of course,” I added, snapping my fingers as if I’d just remembered something. “You’re not living in the house right now are you? What happened, Alice? See the writing on the wall and figure you might as well leave since the pot is about all empty?”

Her hand shot out with incredible speed. I saw a blur and then felt the resounding impact as she slapped my face. “You really are an odious bastard.”

There was a shocked silence, apart from the ringing in my ears. My face was stinging painfully. It felt like everyone was holding their breath. A voice in my head said I should let it go, but I didn’t listen. I grinned.

“What’s the matter, Alice? Truth hurt?”

Suddenly she became calm, and smiled menacingly. “The truth? Would you like to hear the truth, Nick?”

I was struck by the taunting note in her voice, the sly cadence that made me think of the way a cat plays with a mouse before dispatching it with a careless flick of sharp claws. For a second the room seemed to vibrate with something she was implying.

“I thought we were supposed to be here to decide what to do about Hoffman’s program,” Marcus asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“You’re right,” I said.

“The program?” Alice echoed, looking at Marcus.

“I was going to tell you on the way over here.”

I gathered he hadn’t got the chance. No doubt they had been fighting all the way from Sausalito. He explained how we’d come to have it, and for once I saw Alice was thrown and she fell silent as she pondered this new information.

“You have to give the program to Brinkman,” Sally said after a moment.

“If we do that, he’s going to cut us out of the deal,” I countered.

“You don’t know that.”

I went through it all again, so we all understood how things were. I repeated my conversation with Brinkman, explaining again my reasons for not trusting him, and why if we tried to do a deal with him he could renege the moment he had the program and have us arrested.

“This is all pure guesswork,” Sally argued.

“Perhaps. But you heard him too, Marcus,” I appealed. “Perhaps I’ve got all this wrong. Maybe Brinkman is really a stand-up guy and he gives half his salary to charity. But I could be right, and what if I am? Are we prepared to take a chance over this? Once we admit we have the program, the ball is in Brinkman’s court. We’re at his mercy. That’s a chance I’m personally not prepared to take.”

“A chance you’re not prepared to take, Nick?” Sally echoed. “I thought this was a decision we should take together.”

“I meant us.”

“No, you didn’t.” She shook her head. “You’ve already decided in your own mind haven’t you?”