"So?" I said to my brother as he entered the room.
"Harry's coming over to check it out and take a statement."
"Did you tell Harry he pulled a knife on you?" I asked, glancing over to the spot on the floor beside the recliner where the butterfly knife had fallen. "I did."
Now there was a long, uncomfortable silence. Both Garth and I glanced over at Mary, who, for the first time since I had known her, looked all of her forty-five years of age, even older. She still seemed afraid, but in addition now appeared confused, as if she could not quite come to grips with what had happened-whatever that might be. The visit of her decidedly strange friend had apparently ended in tragedy. I wanted to go to her, to find words to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between her and my brother and me, but did not feel it was my place.
"I'm going back to the city now," I said to Garth. "I'll take Vicky with me; I think it's better that she be gone before Harry gets here and starts asking questions. She could wake up, and I don't think she needs to hear any of this."
"Agreed," Garth replied simply.
"Please don't go, Mongo," Mary said in a small voice. "Not. . yet. I want to explain." She paused, looked at Garth. "With Sacra Silver, I just don't know where to begin."
I went over to the woman, took her hands in mine, kissed them. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Mary. I'm not the one who needs to understand. Aside from the fact that I don't want Vicky to know about any of this, it's really not my place to be here now. This is between you and Garth. I hope you understand."
Mary did not reply. When I let go of her hands, they dropped limply to her sides. I went to the guest room, quickly packed my clothes into my duffel bag. When I came out, Garth was waiting for me in the hallway. He had wrapped the sleeping girl in a blanket and was holding her in his arms. It was a wonderful picture. I felt awful.
"You've got enough clothes for her at the brownstone?" Garth asked.
"Yeah."
My brother carried Vicky out of the house, to the car, and gently laid her on the backseat. Garth now looked withdrawn, deeply troubled.
"I'm doing the right thing, aren't I, Garth? I'll stick around if you think it would help."
Garth shook his head. "No. You were absolutely right when you told Mary I'm the one she has to talk to. If Harry needs a statement from you, I'll have him call you in an hour or so."
"Tow call me if you need anything."
"Yeah."
"Good luck, Garth."
"Yeah."
As I pulled around the green Cadillac and out of the driveway, I could see Garth standing in a patch of bright moonlight, staring after me. Then the moon passed behind a cloud, and he was shrouded in darkness. I headed for the Palisades Parkway, and New York City.
Chapter Three
Garth showed up at the brown-stone on West Fifty-sixth Street three days later, a Wednesday morning. I was in my office on the first floor going over a file in preparation for a lunch meeting with a client, with Vicky sitting next to me on the floor, reading a book. The door opened, and Garth leaned in. He was carrying a large suitcase.
Garth said simply, "I'm back, Mongo."
"Garth!" Vicky shrieked with delight when she saw my brother. She put her book to one side, jumped up, and ran to him with outstretched arms. "Are you going to take me back to your house?"
"Nope," Garth replied as he swept up the child with his free hand. "I'm going to stay with you and Mongo here in the city for a while. Want to help me unpack?"
Vicky nodded eagerly, and Garth said to me, "See you later, brother," before turning away, closing the door behind him.
I waited ten minutes, impatiently drumming my fingers on the top of my desk, and then I got up and went into the adjoining office to give some instructions to Francisco Gonzalez, my secretary. Then I went upstairs to Garth's apartment on the fifth floor. I found him and Vicky in the bedroom, unpacking his suitcase.
"Vicky," I said to the girl, "Francisco knows how you like to work with his computer, and he wants to give you another lesson. But you have to go down right now, while he has the time."
The child gave a little squeal of delight. She ran to the door, then suddenly stopped and looked back, a pensive expression on her face. "Is it all right, Garth? I said I'd help you unpack."
Garth nodded. "It's all right, sweetheart. I'm almost finished. Go ahead."
I waited until I heard Vicky's footsteps recede down the stairway, then went and closed the bedroom door. Garth resumed unpacking his suitcase, transferring shorts and handkerchiefs to the top drawer of his dresser. It was the largest suitcase he owned, and he'd brought a lot of clothes. I did not think that boded well.
"Garth, I didn't call because I didn't want to intrude."
"I know that," my brother replied in a flat tone.
"When I didn't hear from Harry, I figured there was no problem with the police, and I didn't think that whatever else was going on was any of my business. It's not that I wasn't concerned."
"I know that too, Mongo. I should have called you. I'm sorry. I. . just didn't feel like talking."
"Do you feel like talking now?"
"Not particularly."
"All right, will you talk? Mary means something to me too, you know. I love both of you, and I've never met a couple who looked more in love than the two of you. I can't believe this is happening."
"I know the feeling," Garth replied drily as he picked up a handful of ties, then walked to the closet and began to drape them over a tie rack. "What do you want to know, Mongo?"
"For openers, what's the story on the guy you threw through the window?"
"They haven't found a body in the river, he hasn't shown up anywhere else, and, so far, nobody's filed a missing persons report. As far as the cops are concerned, if there's no body and no missing persons report, there's no problem. Mary backed up my story of what happened, and Harry took the knife with him. I pushed the Cadillac out onto the street. That's about it."
"Who the hell was the guy, Garth?"
It seemed to me Garth hesitated just a moment before answering. "An old boyfriend."
"How old? Where the hell did he come from?"
Garth had finished hanging up his ties, but he remained standing in the doorway of the closet, with his back to me. "I don't know the answer to either of those questions, Mongo. Mary freezes up whenever she tries to talk about him. As close as I can figure, she got involved with the guy twelve or thirteen years ago, before she got involved with the Fellowship of Conciliation and moved to Cairn."
"Christ, Garth, it's hard for me to imagine Mary hooking up with such a weirdo-an obnoxious weirdo, to boot."
"To you and me, maybe, but apparently not to her. Who knows? What I do know is that she's very much afraid of him."
"Why?"
"I don't know, Mongo. I get the impression he has something on her that she doesn't want me to know.""
"Jesus, Garth, it's been three days. You haven't been able to talk this out?"
"No. She can't seem to talk about her past with this man without ending up crying hysterically, or just clamming up and staring off into space. She did manage to tell me that they were lovers back then, and that they met at a time when her career was at its low ebb. She says he left her, but she can't-or won't-tell me why he should show up again after all this time."
"Now that she's on top again, maybe he wants her back for her celebrity value. Not to mention her money."