‘I need a bottle opener,’ she said, crossing to one of the drawers. Burton passed her, carrying the platter of crab, the steaks on their plates and balancing the bowl of salad on his arm.
‘Okay, it’s ready.’
Lorraine brought the bottle-opener to the table and sat in the place Burton indicated. Tiger lifted his head, sniffed and inched over to sit beside her, knowing he might be in line for a titbit.
Decker was dead on arrival at the emergency room of Midway Hospital. Adam Elliot, his boyfriend, was contacted at nine thirty-five, and drove straight to the hospital, unable to take in that Decker was dead.
By the time he was led to the chapel area to identify the body, he was in a state of such distress that he had to be assisted into an ante-room. Decker, who rarely exceeded the speed limit, Decker who always nagged him about wearing his safety belt and warned him never to take risks, who said that life wasn’t worth an extra twenty miles an hour, had been killed outright travelling at eighty-five miles an hour in a built-up area of downtown Los Angeles. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. The loss of his beloved partner was more than he could comprehend.
Lorraine sat watching a movie, her feet resting on Jake’s knees and Tiger at their feet. Jake had consumed his bottle of wine, and Tiger the charred steaks, though at least the crab and the salad had been delicious.
‘I got another job today,’ Lorraine said. ‘It’s sort of connected to the Nathan case.’
‘How come?’ He stroked her legs.
‘Well, apparently Nathan sold original paintings, then switched them when they were hung.’ She explained the complex scam she believed Nathan had pulled, and that his attorney, her new client, had been one of its victims.
‘How much were they worth?’ Jake asked, draining his glass.
‘That depends. I’m still trying to get to the bottom of it all, but Feinstein’s down maybe two million.’
‘And do you think this fake stuff had something to do with Nathan’s murder?’
‘I don’t know. To be honest, all I do know is that somebody, somewhere, has a cache of art work worth a mint — or else the mint. Maybe that was the motive for killing him, but with Cindy and Kendall both dead, it’ll be hard to find out. Another odd thing is that there was a survivorship clause in the will, some tax-saving scam, Feinstein says, which meant that both Cindy and Kendall had to survive Nathan by sixty days before the gifts to them took effect. Since neither of them made it, everything, or whatever is left of Nathan’s estate minus the art, goes to his first wife, Sonja Nathan. The house will be the main asset, as any cash Nathan got from the fraud he had stashed in secret accounts.’
‘How will you go about tracing hidden bank accounts?’ Jake asked, and Lorraine grinned and pushed him. ‘No, I’m serious,’ he said. ‘How do you do that? If different names have been used, how do you trace them to Nathan?’
‘Well, you start with his papers,’ Lorraine said, tilting her head to one side. ‘Nobody ever has anything that well hidden — there’s always some kind of documentation somewhere. Then you look into travel, abroad or otherwise, and start checking — you know, do you know this man, et cetera. It’s a long, slow process.’
‘So it’ll be a nice cash cow for you?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘It’ll also mean a lot of painstaking enquiries.’ Lorraine’s face clouded as she thought about Decker. ‘Maybe I should call home, see if he’s left a message.’
Burton poured the dregs of the wine bottle into his glass and studied it for a moment. ‘Have you ever thought about...’ He stopped, and sipped the wine.
Lorraine had the phone in her hand. ‘Thought about what?’
‘Well, I know you have two daughters.’
She replaced the phone. ‘Yes, Julia and Sally.’
He leaned against the back of the sofa, looking at her. ‘You want any more kids?’
‘What?’
He turned away. ‘I’d like a family. I just wondered if you...’
‘With you?’
‘No, with Burt Lancaster. Who the hell do you think?’
She crossed to him and slipped her arms around his shoulders. ‘You’re serious about us getting married?’
‘Okay, I have to admit that when I said it, I kinda had heart failure. I’d not even thought about it and it must have sounded crazy. But I’ve had time to think and maybe why I did say it was because I was feeling like a kid on acid! That was the way you made me feel. Now I’m calmer, I’ve had time to think and I wouldn’t change that moment for the world. I know it’s what I want, so, if you want me to ask you again, I will. You want me to ask you again?’ He took her hand and drew her down to sit beside him, and she nestled into his arms, curling her legs onto the sofa.
‘It’s all moving so fast. Don’t get me wrong — I like it this way, but...’ She closed her eyes, and he rested his chin against her head. ‘First we have to find a nice place, move in, get settled, but...’
‘You okay?’ Jake whispered.
Lorraine couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face.
‘I’m sorry if what I said upset you but we do need to talk about our future.’
She couldn’t speak. The tears kept on coming, and every time she tried to say something she felt as if her throat was being squeezed.
‘Maybe I’ve moved things on too fast. It’s just that, now I’ve found you, I don’t want to waste any time. But you can tell me to put the breaks on. All you’ve got to do is tell me, but we have to talk, Lorraine.’
She broke away, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, and her words came out in spluttering gasps as her chest heaved. ‘I want to talk to you too, I want—’ She started to sob, and he made no effort to stop her, as if he knew she had to let her feelings out before she could calm down. She gasped for breath, determined to get it out, to tell him that she wanted his child more than anything else in the world. The thought of carrying Jake’s baby made her heart swell. She would be a part of him, have a future with him and be protected by him. Knowing for sure that he really loved her, that what had seemed too good to be true was not fantasy but reality, made the terrible darkness she lived with roll away. She felt as if a burden had been lifted from her soul, and that she was forgiven, cleansed. ‘I want your child... I never want to lose you, I love you.’
They embraced, broke away from each other, laughed, kissed and kissed again. For the first time in years, she was truly happy, and it was a blissful state, a feeling she had believed she would never be allowed to know or enjoy. Leaning back against him, curled beside him, she whispered, ‘I am so happy...’
Lorraine left at seven, having stayed the night with Burton, and as she walked Tiger in the early morning, the smile never left her lips. She went home, fed the dog, showered and changed for the office. Just as she was leaving she noticed the light on her answerphone blinking. She pressed the button, but could hardly make out what the caller was saying. He was sobbing. She knew, though, that something terrible had happened. As the message continued, and it became clear what it was, she had to sit down.
Lorraine drove to Decker’s home in Ashcroft Avenue as though on automatic pilot. The neat bungalow was in a row of equally well-kept small houses, and was painted a smart navy blue with the windows, doors and eaves picked out in white. Lorraine parked on San Vincente, fed the meter, and walked, in a mechanical, non-aware state, up the hand-laid brick steps to the house. The door opened. ‘Come in.’ Adam Elliot was wearing a terrycloth robe, and his face was ashen, his eyes red from weeping. Lorraine said nothing as he led her down the hallway, every inch of wall space filled with paintings, prints, photographs and pieces of tribal and primitive art, which, she guessed, had been picked up on travels abroad. She could feel the woven coir matting beneath her shoes, and noticed that it was strangely dark. All the blinds and shutters in the house were drawn.