He read off a list of gifts to people who had worked for Louis, and to a modest number of charities.
Joe paused to drink some water and clear his throat. “When we’re done here, I hope you’ll all join me in a drink to toast Louis Martin. He thought long and hard about this will and made some difficult decisions.”
“Never mind toasts,” Edward said. “By my figuring, there’s still about nineteen or so percent unaccounted for.”
Joe met Spike’s eye with the faintest of signals. Something was coming and the attorney anticipated trouble.
“You’re good with numbers,” Joe said to Edward. “Louis Martin’s final bequest is to Mrs. Charlotte Patin of whom he says, ‘Apart from my wife, Charlotte is the
only woman I have ever loved and my love for her has only brought her pain. The remainder of my assets, both corporate and personal, go to Charlotte Patin.’”
L
ouis Martin had left a letter for Charlotte, and Joe Gable had found a private moment in the melee following the reading to give the envelope to her. She’d tucked it into her purse at once.
If she went to her room to read what Louis had written, Vivian, who knew Charlotte had the letter, would be justified in having suspicions about her mother.
“Mama,” Vivian said, “I could use a glass of tea, how about you?”
“Sure.” Brandy held more appeal but she’d only get sleepy. “Let’s sit outside on the little gallery over the front door.” The sound of distant hammering reached her. “Maybe not. Bill and Homer are working somewhere up there.”
“If we sit out front on the terrace we should be able to avoid any of Bonine’s people who happen along,” Vivian said.
They’d parked in the driveway and gone into Rose-bank through the front door. They didn’t want to run into Errol Bonine.
“Mama, maybe you should go to bed. You look tired and I’m sure you want time on your own.” Charlotte did look tired, but Vivian thought the letter she’d been given was responsible for that and Mama would want to read it alone.
“I’m going to sit out there and let you pour the tea. Thea would make a couple of sandwiches for us—or Wazoo if you can catch her. Viv, hiring that woman is the best whim I ever followed.”
Vivian thought so, too, but lowered her voice to say, “You do know she’s been seein’ clients here?”
“I know,” Charlotte said and smirked. “I’m thinkin’ of lettin’ her hang a special sign outside, how about that? How many hotels do you know of with resident mediums, or whatever Wazoo says she is?”
“You’re wicked, you just love irritating the neighbors.”
“That’s something else we need to talk about,” Charlotte said. “I know I’m probably irrational, but I’m suspicious of those people and they’re starting to get in our way. Shoo, away with you and hurry back.”
Charlotte loved to look at her daughter. Today she wore a long, gauzy dress, red poppies on a white ground, and as she walked toward the kitchen the skirt flipped out around her calves.
There couldn’t be any benefit in waiting to look at the letter. Vivian would see her reading it and could ask questions if she liked. The dilemma was not knowing what Louis could possibly have had to write to her about.
Apart from my wife, Charlotte is the only woman I have ever loved.
How could he have loved her? They were acquaintances, maybe even friends in a way, but he’d never acted as other than a gentleman with her.
She would have to refuse the bequest and so would Vivian. With Gary getting fifty-one percent of the cor
poration, the Martin twins had no way of taking control from him. Anyway, what had been given to her wouldn’t just go to the Martins, it would have to be divided up and…She just wanted to run this house as a hotel, with Vivian, and forget the headaches they faced now.
Arranging two white wood chaises in the shade of a bank of verbena laden with clusters of red berries, she made sure they would be invisible unless someone came looking.
She sat down on the edge of a chaise and turned Louis’s envelope over and over. He’d written her name there by hand.
Right now, at this very minute, those Martin twins would be talking about her as if she’d been their father’s mistress. The horror of being speculated about like that sickened her.
When she opened the envelope her hands shook so badly she ripped the flap in several places.
The letter was handwritten, too.
Dear Charlotte:
You’re reading this letter. That means I’m dead and there’s no other way to put things right other than through the will you’ve heard read.
I have been wrong. More than wrong, but a man can want something so badly he’ll do just about anything to get it. Or in my case, to try to get it. I know because that’s what I did. Only I didn’t plan for what happened, not for David to die.
Charlotte dropped the letter in her lap. Her vision blurred and when it cleared a little, her eyes settled on an ant with a long, skinny body. It scuttled along a crack in the concrete at the base of a wall, carrying some small prize to wherever its home happened to be.
She blinked, then continued to read:
I had nothing to do with the money trouble David got himself into. He talked to me about most things because we were friends. David was my friend, even though I hated him at the same time. He didn’t tell me how bad things were until he’d borrowed from the wrong people and was in too deep to get out on his own.
That’s when he came to me and I bailed him out.
He’d made some mistakes. We all do. But his were big, Charlotte, and he made them worse by trying impossible schemes. Times hadn’t been so easy and business was down. You’ll know about that.
What you don’t know is he put money into a Mexican land venture—a lot of money because he needed a big return—and the whole project disappeared. It never existed in the first place. A scam, that’s what it turned out to be and the people running it got away clean, and rich.
David had expected to start getting his payoffs from the venture within weeks, he counted on that and when he saw there wouldn’t be any, his back was to the wall. He went through everything trying to catch up or at least keep going.
In the end he sold things, including the jewelry you had from your family. He said it was very old and although you didn’t wear it, you wanted it for Vivian because she would. Only, Vivian wouldn’t take it so you decided you’d leave it to her for when you’d gone.
He told me everything, and he was suffering, but he still had what I wanted. He had you.
“Mama?”
Charlotte heard Vivian’s voice and felt her own tears at the same time. She hadn’t known she’d been crying.
”
Mama
?”
“You brought the tea,” Charlotte said, wiping at her face with the back of a hand and making much of pushing herself back into the chaise and putting her feet up. She held the letter tightly. “Thank you,
cher.
”
“Wazoo made sandwiches with soft shell crab and some of that sauce they sell at Pappy’s Dance Hall,” Vivian said. She put the tray she carried on the other chaise, pulled a small iron table between the two and transferred the tray to it. “Have some tea, please.”
Charlotte shook her head, no. Vivian didn’t press her, she didn’t say anything. Instead she sat quietly in the other chaise.
I knew I probably didn’t have a chance with you, but I thought if David looked bad enough for you to want comfort, I could be that comfort.
Charlotte grasped at the neck of her dress as if she’d breathe more easily somehow. Why hadn’t David come to her and explained? They’d always shared everything.
I thought when David told you what he’d done, you’d leave him. What I couldn’t stand was to think of him with you, and deceiving you when you should have had everything.
David came to me and I dealt with his debts. He had to be real careful but he started inching back very slowly.
That’s when I called in the loan. I went to Chez Charlotte on that night he died. It was after everything had closed. He invited me over himself. Said he’d made you go home to get some sleep but he was staying to get a jump on a catering job for the following day. He wanted to thank me for all I’d
done for him. So I said I thought I’d stop by and have a drink with him.He was the one who did the drinking. I talked and apologized and said how I had to have the money back. David just drank and said he understood.
When I left he was still drinking and I’d told him he should come clean to you. He said he would. Even when I was walking away I hated what I’d done and knew I’d most likely never have a chance with you. I could have helped him without any strings. He’d have paid me back in the end and I didn’t need the money.
David was distraught, confused, and he was drunk. They said the fire was an accident and probably happened because David was drinking and passed out. But you know that.
I fell in love with you the day you first walked into my office. You never gave me any reason to hope and I never gave you a hint of what I felt. You don’t deserve what I’ve done to you.
You and Vivian can’t put what I’ve left you back into the corporation, I’ve made sure of that. So please admit that I owe you both more than money can pay for and do what would make David happy, make a new life.
With respect and love, neither of which you want from me,
Louis Martin
Charlotte cried and found she didn’t want to stop. She sobbed. Poor, dear, foolish David.
“Mama, don’t,” Vivian said. “Whatever it says there, it’s all in the past because the man’s dead. If he was carrying rying some sort of torch for you then got murdered, it’s
so sad, but you mustn’t think you’re responsible for not being able to make him happier when he was alive.”
Vivian, the logical one, only this time she had no idea what she was talking about. “I don’t care anything for Louis Martin and I’m
glad
he’s dead.” She looked at Vivian and regretted shocking her. “I’ve got to think about it, but I think I should probably let you read this.”
“Whatever you want,” Vivian said while the sound of heavy feet got their attention.
Errol Bonine and Frank Wiley walked along the terrace toward them.
“I can’t talk to them now,” Charlotte said, desperate to get away.
“Good afternoon,” Bonine said, and actually smiled. “We won’t keep you long but there are one or two questions we’d like to ask.”
Frank Wiley just smiled and said nothing. Despite the smile, Charlotte didn’t think he was a happy man.
“This isn’t a good time,” Vivian said.
“You know what’s going on around here as well as I do,” Bonine said. “We can do this nicely, or we’ll do it any way that gets the job done.”
“How dare you,” Vivian said with feeling.
“Hush,” Charlotte told Vivian gently. “I’m fine. I’m feelin’ better already.” She wondered if she’d ever feel better.
“What made you feel bad, Miz Patin?” Bonine asked.
“Nothing,” she said and knew the answer was lame.
“We could come back, Errol,” Frank Wiley said. “There’s no—”
“I make those decisions. We got an anonymous tip today, about a woman called Ellie Byron. You know her?”
Vivian said “Yes” before Charlotte even remembered where she’d seen Ellie Byron.
“Right answer,” Bonine said. “We don’t have a lot to
say about her, in fact we don’t have anything. Just wanted you to know we got the tip. You might want to stay away from that one because it sounds like she’s sayin’ things that don’t make for no friend of yours.”
Charlotte looked at Vivian who showed no more understanding of Bonine’s comments than Charlotte had.
“Um, you don’t need to worry your heads about that though,” Wiley said, ignoring the fury in his partner’s eyes. “Just something we’re following up. These tips are a dime a dozen and the caller is probably someone with a grudge against Miz Patin.”
“You heard what I told you,” Bonine said directly to Charlotte and Vivian. “Now, when did Louis Martin tell you what he intended to do in his will?”
“He didn’t.” Charlotte sat up and put her feet on the ground. “What do you mean?”
Bonine held up both palms as if he was trying to calm her down. “Now, now, no need to overreact. We just wondered when you first found out that you were a major beneficiary of Mr. Martin’s will. Must have been a great comfort to you, what with all your money troubles.”
Vivian was on her feet. “I suppose if we were that kind of opportunistic people,
and
we’d known Louis was going to die, we might have been comforted. We aren’t that kind of people and we had no way of knowing Louis would be murdered.”
“You knew he was coming here that day.” Bonine looked suddenly startled. “Frank, what are you thinking of? Take Miz Vivian away, please. I want to talk to her mother alone.”
The sound of Vivian’s cold laughter hurt Charlotte. “Why?” Vivian said. “Because you’re hopin’ we’ll tell different stories if you separate us? Do you think there’s anybody who doesn’t know that’s routine procedure? Except you, evidently.”
Bonine’s face turned its angry red.
“Seems like you have all kinds of mythical sources,” Vivian continued. “And so-called tips that make no sense. And how do you know about Louis’s will? Tell me that. You weren’t there when it was read.”
“We weren’t, but others were,” Bonine said with a sneer. “And you’d better hope we don’t find out you did know about the provisions before the murder. Gary Legrain may have big problems, too.”
My blackmailer is a moron. Yet again he is on the phone, ordering me about.
“Something has changed everything,” he says.
I have no patience left. I shall tell him the complete truth. “Perhaps the picture has changed for you. For me it is the same. How do you stop a freight train with no brakes on a steep slope? If it’s going downhill, with difficulty, friend. If it’s already at the bottom, forget it.”
He is crying in my ear, this man who ordered death to suit his plans. Crying because “something has changed everything.”
“What changes,” I say to him, “is that I can’t take the time I prefer to take. Playing, planning the end, these are my pleasures, but you’ve taken them away from me. Not your fault, you say? It was your fault from the first words you spoke to me. Kill, you said, or else. So I killed and must kill again.”
He still hopes to change my mind.
“Stop arguing, friend. Suffering takes all of your energy and you are going to suffer. You will pay for what I’ve done.”