Envy (44 page)

"I'm not afraid of him."

Nadia looked at her closely and with

admiration. "No. I don't believe you are."

She ducked her head for a second, then looked bravely into Maris's face again. "I never feel guilty over anything. This was a rare exception. Thank you for listening."

Maris nodded and had turned toward the steps.

But before reaching the stoop, she turned back.

Morris Blume had stepped out of the limo and was holding the door for Nadia. He nodded politely to Maris, but it was Nadia whom she addressed.

"Why do you suppose Dad invited you to breakfast and gave you this story?"

"I asked myself that a thousand times. I finally reached a conclusion. Speculation, of course."

"I'd like to hear it."

"He knew Noah had cheated on you, but Mr.

Matherly was too old to defend your honor by beating him up. So he wanted to use my column to kick him in the teeth. He knew Noah would be publicly humiliated when the article appeared and it was there in black and white for all the world to see that publishing's boy wonder had been stripped of his stripes." Smiling over the irony, she added, "And no doubt your father saw the poetic justice in baiting Noah's

illicit lover with a story she couldn't resist."

"No doubt," Maris said with a fond smile.

It was her aged father they'd all underestimated.

"Maris, if it means anything to you ..."

"Yes?"

"I think he had fun doing it. He was in great

#spirits that morning." ####################757

"Thank you for telling me that. It means a great deal."

She was in the townhouse less than half an hour and had arrived at the departure gate as they were boarding the flight to Nashville. She had checked into an inexpensive chain motel near the airport and collapsed into bed without even undressing. This morning she had eaten a lumberjack's breakfast, then driven two hours to reach the university.

Now, as she strolled along the paved paths of the campus reviewing yesterday's startling events, she could hardly believe she was here. She had strong feelings of déjà vu, which wasn't surprising. She had been here before, through the pages of Parker's book. Although he had assigned a fictitious name to the university, his descriptions had been dead-on.

She walked straight to the fraternity house, knowing precisely where it was located. It was exactly as Parker had described. The

three-story brick building with the gabled windows and the Bradford pear trees lining the front walkway had been abandoned for the summer, but she could imagine how lively it would be when it reopened for occupation in the fall.

From the fraternity house, she followed the path that Roark had taken that blustery November morning two days before Thanksgiving holiday.

Parker's vivid narrative led her to the classroom building where Professor Hadley had his office. She ascended the stairs where Roark had been greeted by a classmate and invited to join a study group.

The second-floor corridor stretched out in front of her--long, dim, deserted, and silent.

She passed only one office with an open door.

A woman was working at a computer terminal, but she didn't notice as Maris walked past.

She continued all the way down the hallway to the office numbered 207. The door was standing slightly ajar, as it had been that morning Roark approached it with his capstone manuscript inside his backpack. Her heart was thumping as hard as his as she gave the door a gentle push and it swung open.

A man was seated at a desk, his back to her.

"Professor Hadley?"

He turned around. "Hello, Maris."

###She sagged against the doorjamb and ######759

snuffled a laugh of self-deprecation.

"Mike."

"Have a seat."

He picked up a stack of books and

magazines off the only other available chair and set it on the floor, alongside several other similar towers of reading material. Maris lowered herself into the chair, but her eyes never left him.

He smiled at her. "I knew you'd

eventually figure it out. What was the breakthrough?"

"I guessed days ago that Roark was Parker.

At least aspects of him. Yesterday Noah said something that was almost a direct quote from the book.

About how convenient my father's death was to him."

"As his mother's death was. It enabled him to move to Florida without further delay."

"I should have realized sooner that you were Hadley."

"Frankly, I'm glad you didn't.

Parker's descriptions weren't always flattering.

I'd have been insulted if you'd seen me in them."

Her eyes roved the cluttered office.

"Parker described your office to a tee.

What's your position here at the university?"

"Professor emeritus."

"That's an honor."

He harrumphed. "It's an empty title that doesn't mean a thing except that you're too damn old to do what you used to do. I get to keep the office till I die. In exchange, once each semester I give a lecture on

Faulkner to a couple hundred bored young people who attend only because they're required to. I'm flattered if one of them stays awake for the duration of my lecture. Beyond that, I have no responsibilities whatsoever."

Quietly she said, "I'll bet Parker stayed awake for all your lectures."

"He was exceptional. In his book, he hasn't exaggerated how I felt about

`Roarkànd his budding talent. If anything, he's minimized it."

"Is it true that you rescued him from drug addiction?"

"As I've said many times, he rescued himself.

He'd become reliant on painkillers.

Considering what he suffered, I can't say I blamed him. But it had reached a point where he was taking the pills more to dull his emotional pain than anything else.

###"All I did was sound the alarm ######761

inside his head. He's the one who went through the hell of withdrawal and then whipped himself back into shape." He smiled. "I guess it's fair to say that I handed him the whip."

"Still, he's indebted to you."

"As I am to him. I've been privileged to work with an amazingly talented writer."

"Too bad he's not as fine a human being as he is a writer."

Mike studied her for a moment, then reached across his desk and pulled forward a manuscript that was bound with a wide rubber band. He passed it to her.

She looked down at the cover sheet and her lips curled with bitterness. "I've read it."

"Most of it," he corrected. "Not all.

There's some you haven't read. Read it before you judge Parker too harshly." He stood up and made his way to the door. "I'm going for coffee.

Can I bring you back something?"

CHAPTER 34

One of Noah's strongest personality

traits was his ability to deny that anything was wrong.

Refusing to acknowledge a setback was the same as there being no setback to acknowledge.

The morning following his disastrous martini date with Nadia, he took a taxi to Matherly Press, pretending, indeed believing, that he would manipulate his way through this problem and actually come out better in the long run. On the Richter scale of complications, this was a blip.

He was glad that Matherly Press would remain autonomous. WorldView had bought itself a white elephant. Becker-Howe had been hanging on by its fingernails for years, and everybody in the industry knew it. Ollie Howe was more stiff-necked than Daniel. He was unyielding to the rapid changes taking place and baffled by the concept of electronic publishing.

Noah would personally see to it that the merger was an abysmal failure and that Morris Blume became an industry laughingstock, first for fancying himself a publisher, and second for marrying a whore. Every man he shook hands with was likely to have had a piece of his wife.

As for Nadia's exclusive story, he would deny it.

Daniel wasn't around to corroborate it.

#Nadia was probably lying about Stern's ##763

corroboration. Noah would claim she had written it out of spite. He would admit that he and Nadia had engaged in a temporary and ill-advised affair, one he now deeply regretted. The sudden death of his father-in-law had made him see the error of his ways and returned him to his wife and the sanctity of their marriage.

When he broke off with Nadia, she retaliated by fabricating this story about him and his family.

By the time all the hubbub died down, no one would remember the details of the original story. The facts would have been confused in the multiple retells. No one would know what or whom to believe. He could walk away from the whole mess virtually unscathed and looking valorous for owning up to an extramarital affair for which he would publicly ask his wife's forgiveness.

_His _wife. Maris was the hitch in this plan.

He was counting on her to ignore Nadia's story. She wouldn't give Nadia the

satisfaction of denying or confirming it. But it went beyond that. What was he to do if in fact Daniel had given Maris control of Matherly Press? Say the attorney, Stern, had knowledge of a transference of power and the documentation to prove it.

What then?

All right. He would go along. He would say that Daniel had informed him of it while they were in the country. Yes! They'd discussed it at length, and Noah had agreed that Maris should have the title and the authority that it conveyed. But Daniel had asked him to be her helpmate. To serve as her advisor. To guard her back against marauders and steer her around pitfalls.

Yes, that was very good. And who could contradict him?

Perhaps he should confess that he had flirted with the idea of merging Matherly Press with a media giant and had met with Blume to discuss it. But now that Daniel was gone, he looked forward to working side by side with Maris to preserve and even strengthen Matherly Press.

Excellent.

Now, what to do about their personal relationship?

Tricky to resolve, but not impossible. She was so easily pacified. Maybe he would take a special interest in this book she was so excited about. He would offer to become personally involved in its publication and devote himself to making it a

#huge success. She'd like that. ##########765

Or maybe he'd suggest that they try harder to produce an heir to continue the dynasty.

Physically impossible, of course, but she could be happy in her ignorance until he devised something else to keep her preoccupied and malleable.

There were several options from which to choose. He was confident one would be a workable solution for their present rift.

Finally, there was the problem of the private investigator. He might dig deep enough to uncover that nasty business in Florida. But what if he did? It was an unhappy story, nothing more. He had never been incriminated.

Resurrecting the incident might generate some unfavorable speculation about him, but he would dismiss any rumors as vicious gossip.

Having worked out these solutions, it was with a jaunty and optimistic air that he stepped off the elevator and walked briskly down the hallway toward his office. Even his assistant was standing at attention at her desk, wringing her hands as though anxious to please him. "Coffee, please, Cindy."

"Mr. Reed, he--was

He sailed past her and entered his office, where he came to a standstill so abruptly he might as well have walked into a glass wall. "Stern?"

Appearancewise, this attorney and Howard Bancroft were practically interchangeable. The same bald, pointed head bobbed as the man said curtly, "Mr. Reed."

"What the fuck are you doing in my office, behind my desk?"

Overlooking the obscenity, Stern gestured toward the two men with him. "These gentlemen work as paralegals for my law firm. They have agreed to help you box up your personal items. A project I will closely monitor. You have one hour to complete the task, at which time I will relieve you of your keys to this office and your security pass into the building. I will then escort you out through the Fifty-first Street exit.

"When stipulating to me the terms of your immediate dismissal, Ms. Matherly was very specific about that. She did not want to cause you any embarrassment by conducting you outside through the main entrance. In my opinion, that was most gracious of her and more consideration than you deserve." With a quick

#motion of his hand, he activated the #######767

paralegals. He checked his wristwatch. "The clock is ticking. I think we should begin."

Cindy squeezed in through the door behind him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Reed? The deliveryman won't release this package until you personally sign the return receipt."

She was the most convenient outlet for his rage.

He rounded on her, eyes blazing.

She recoiled but thrust the package at him and managed to say, "It's from a Mr. Parker Evans."

Maris had just completed her read-through when Mike returned. She was sitting motionless, the manuscript pages lying in her lap. She had stared at the last line until the letters blurred.

__Pain that splinters the body but slays the _soul.

Because she was dazed by that line and those that had come before it, Mike's return didn't register until he nudged her shoulder. "I remembered that you enjoy tea sometimes. I hope that's all right."

Nodding dumbly, she took the warm

Styrofoam cup from him. He sat down in his desk chair. When he ripped open a packet of artificial sweetener, the sound seemed abnormally loud in the small room. "One or two?" he asked.

"One's fine."

She removed the tight plastic lid from her cup. Mike dumped the contents of the packet into the fragrant, steaming tea, then passed her a plastic stir stick. She stirred much longer than required to dissolve the sweetener. When she tasted the tea, it burned her tongue.

"This isn't the ending, is it?" she asked.

Mike frowned into his coffee. "He hasn't shown the last chapter even to me. I'm not sure he's written it. It may be too painful for him to write."

"More painful than this? God," she cried softly. "It's incredible. I can't believe it happened."

Mike looked at her meaningfully. What she'd said was rhetoric, because actually she believed every word of Parker's account. Noah had done this to his friends. She knew he had. She knew he was capable of it.

"What happened afterward, Mike?"

###"Todd--was ######################769

"Noah. This isn't fiction."

"Noah returned to the marina."

"As related in the prologue. He faked hysteria. Claimed that Parker had gone crazy onboard the boat. Abused the girl. Attacked him. They fought. The girl went overboard and so did Parker. Noah tried to save them."

"He m/'ve gone into the water so his clothes would be wet and it would appear he'd searched for them."

"He blamed Parker's violent outburst on envy."

"A lie, of course. But a damn good one.

Believable. The Coast Guard organized a search-and-rescue effort."

"Mary Catherine?"

"Her body was never recovered. It was officially ruled death by drowning."

"What about Parker?"

Mike sipped his coffee before answering, a delay tactic she saw through.

"Parker was found that night by sheer accident. A fisherman spotted him. The coordinates Todd had given the Coast Guard were

àpproximate.`"

"Meaning off by miles."

"Miles. After being in the water for hours, it was a miracle that Parker was still alive. Shock probably saved his life. He had kept his arms moving so he wouldn't sink and drown, but God knows how he was able to move at all. His legs had been chewed to pieces by the blades of the outboard motor. When the fishermen first saw him, they mistook him for an animal carcass that had been used for chum. There was so much blood around him, you see."

With a shaky hand, Maris set aside her tea, untasted after that first sip.

"For over a week, his condition was listed as critical," Mike continued. "Somehow, he lived. Eventually his legs were pieced back together bit by bit."

"He told me he underwent several operations.

What was Noah doing all this time? Surely he was afraid that Parker would give his version of the story and convince the authorities of the truth."

"I've given you a much-abbreviated summary," Mike explained. "The reconstruction of Parker's legs took years.

In those first few days, the trauma doctors worked

#frantically just to keep him alive. ######771

Eventually he was taken off the critical list, but he spent weeks in an ICU fighting off infection. There weren't drugs strong enough to keep him unconscious except for brief periods.

The rest of the time he spent screaming, begging them to kill him. He's admitted that much to me."

Maris covered her trembling lips with her hand, which was cold and clammy. Tears stung her eyes.

"He'd suffered tremendous blood loss.

Perhaps that's why they didn't amputate his legs immediately. They were afraid he'd bleed out on the operating table. Or they wanted his condition to stabilize before they attempted a surgery that traumatic. I'm surmising. I don't know.

I learned all this long after the fact. No one notified me of the incident. I found out later, by happenstance.

"When he was strong enough to begin the reconstructive process, he fought like hell if any of the consulting physicians so much as mentioned amputation. Even partial. Honestly, I don't know why they heeded his wishes. Maybe because he was a young man. Maybe ... I don't know," he repeated with a shrug. "Divine intervention? Providence? Maybe the doctors simply admired the power of his will and decided to honor it. Anyway, they didn't take his legs. They elected to rebuild them the best they could."

"I've seen his scars."

"The visible ones. The ones you can't see are even deeper."

"Caused by Noah's betrayal."

"During those weeks that Parker was fighting for his life, Noah was putting on quite a dog-and-pony show for the authorities. Mary Catherine wasn't there to dispute his version of what had happened. It came down to his word against Parker's. He painted Parker as a jealous, envious hothead who had gotten drunk and snapped, turned violent.

He attacked Noah. When Mary Catherine tried to break them apart, Parker lashed out and knocked her over the railing. His momentum caused him to fall overboard, too.

"By the time the doctors granted the investigators permission to question him, Parker had already been cast in the defensive role.

Confronted with these false accusations, Parker, by his own account, played right into Noah's hands.

#He reacted like a jealous, envious ######773

hothead with violent tendencies. His ranted denials made him appear guilty rather than innocent. From his hospital bed, he threatened to kill his lying friend."

Mike smiled. "I imagine that he put his command of the English language, as well as his gutter vernacular, to good use. I can imagine him pulling against arm restraints and practically foaming at the mouth."

"That probably isn't exaggerating by much."

"In any case he came across as a raving maniac, dangerous to himself and others. Noah was believed. Parker wasn't. He was charged with involuntary manslaughter for Mary Catherine's drowning. When he was well enough to leave the hospital, he was taken to court for his arraignment. He pled no contest."

"Why?" Maris exclaimed. "He wasn't guilty."

"But he felt responsible."

She shook her head. "Noah was."

"I agree with you. But Parker blamed himself for being unable to save her. Noah didn't attend Parker's sentencing, but he sent a videotaped deposition. He was humble, sorrowful, soft-spoken when he wasn't openly weeping.

He said he regretted having to tell the horrible truth about that day. A dual tragedy had occurred, he said. Mary Catherine's drowning.

And the death of his friendship with Parker Evans. He thought he knew him, but in a matter of hours his best friend had become his enemy.

"He said that he and Parker had been closer than any two brothers. But when Noah succeeded ahead of him, it did something to Parker. Twisted him. Noah looked earnestly into the camera and sobbed. Ì don't understand what happened to Parker that day. He turned devious, lecherous, and murderous.Ì think I'm quoting

correctly."

Maris took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. "So Noah went to New York in a blaze of glory because of _The _Vanquished."

"And Parker went to prison."

"_Prison? Prison." She lowered her head and ground her palm against her forehead. "He told me once that he had spent years in rehab hospitals and òther facilities.Ì would never have imagined he was referring to prison."

###"Because of the mitigating circumstances of ##775

his case and his physical condition, he was sent to a minimum-security prison and allowed to continue with his treatment program and physical therapy. He was released after serving twenty-two months of an eight-year sentence.