Martha hurried along behind her, already beginning to pant. “How much farther?”
“Not far; hurry up.”
At the top of the long hill Amanda spread out a tablecloth and opened the bottle of wine. She had already drunk half a glass when Martha came lumbering up the hill and flopped down beside her, completely out of breath.
“Take that heavy coat off,” Amanda said. “You’ll cool down much quicker. And here, have some wine.”
“Do you have any water?”
“I’m sorry, dear, I only brought the wine.”
Martha accepted the glass and drank it greedily. “I’m so thirsty,” she puffed.
Amanda refilled her glass. “Of course you are. It’s a very nice Chardonnay, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Martha was beginning to catch her breath now.
“Have some bread and cheese,” Amanda said. “It will fortify you for the walk back.”
“Thank God it will be downhill,” Martha said, digging into the food.
Amanda kept her glass full.
When they had finished their lunch, Amanda leaned back against a tree. “Now,” she said. “We’re all alone, just the two of us. Time for some frank girl-to-girl talk.”
Martha looked worried, but didn’t say anything.
“Why don’t we start with Jonathan Dryer,” Amanda said. “Tell me about him.”
Martha seemed to hold her breath for a moment, then answered, “Who?”
“Why, the young man you’ve been sleeping with,” Amanda said. “Did you think you could keep a secret from me?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean,” Martha said. She was blushing now.
“Martha, darling, it’s useless to play this game. I’ve had detectives following you, listening in on your telephone conversations. You were seen going into Dryer’s apartment and your phone conversations were taped. I think you’ll feel a lot better when you’ve told me everything.” In that part of the brain that deals with fury and revenge, Amanda felt a small explosion, but she kept her temper. “How did you meet him, Martha?”
Martha’s shoulders slumped. “At the grocery store,” she said. “We talked about food; he knows a lot about food and wine.”
“I’m sure he does, dear. When did you start talking about my business? Before or after you began fucking him?”
Martha blushed even redder. “I don’t really think that’s your business…”
“Martha, my darling,” Amanda interrupted, “let’s remember whose business you and Mr. Dryer talked about.”
A tear ran down Martha’s cheek.
“You’re going to feel so much better when you’ve told me everything.”
“You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?”
“Why, Martha, of course not. You’re absolutely indispensable to me; I could never do without you. I just have to know what you told him and what he told you, and then all will be well. Start at the beginning, now.”
Martha slumped. “We went out to dinner, and we talked about everything in the world. Everything! Then we went back to his place and…”
“And he fucked you, didn’t he?”
Martha nodded. “I had to go to confession,” she said.
“Confession is good for the soul, dear. Go on.”
“It wasn’t until our second date that your name came up. He didn’t even know where I worked until then.”
“Didn’t he, dear?”
“He just seemed so very interested in you; he wanted to know everything.”
“Everything?”
“Where you came from, who your friends were, who you were…”
“Who I was fucking, dear?”
Martha nodded. “He seemed especially interested in your sex life. I just wanted the evening to last forever, so I kept talking.”
“And you just poured out everything, didn’t you?”
Martha nodded again. “I’m afraid so.”
“You told him about my plans for that weekend, didn’t you? And where I’d be meeting my friend.”
Martha continued to nod. “I didn’t realize what I’d done until the first DIRT arrived.”
“And then you knew you’d betrayed a confidence, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Martha said, bursting into tears. “I’m sorry, Amanda; I didn’t know he’d do that.”
“But you didn’t stop seeing him, did you? You went on and on, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t help myself. He was so beautiful; I’ve never known such a beautiful man. He taught me so much about love.”
“I’m sure he did, dear, in between screwing sessions.”
Martha looked up sharply. “I didn’t think of it that way,” she said. “I was in love with him.”
“And now? Aren’t you still in love?”
Martha nodded. “But he won’t see me. I called his apartment, but there was no answer. I went by there, and all his things were gone. He’d left.”
“And where did he go, dear?”
“I don’t know,” Martha wailed. “I want to know, but I don’t. I kept hoping that he would call, but he didn’t.”
“What did he tell you about himself, dear?”
“Well, he said he went to Harvard, and that he worked for the State Department in Washington for a long time.”
“What else?”
“I don’t think he sees his family; there was some kind of argument with them. They’re very wealthy, though, and Jonathan always had a lot of money. He paid cash for everything.”
“I’m sure he did. Did he say how he knew about Allan Peebles’s, ah, predilection?”
“He said something about having friends in Los Angeles, but he didn’t mention any names.”
“Who are his friends in New York?”
“I don’t know; I never met any of them. We spent all our time… alone.”
“What else can you tell me about him, Martha?”
“I don’t know anything else, Amanda, believe me. I’ve told you everything.” She began to cry again.
“There, there, darling,” Amanda said, rising to her feet and looking around. They were alone in the dense forest. “Come over here; you haven’t seen the best part of the view.”
“What?”
“Come over here, dear,” Amanda said, holding out a hand.
Martha took her hand and struggled to her feet. They walked a few yards farther along through the fallen leaves. A distant roar filtered through the trees, like the sound of heavy traffic.
Amanda led her along, thinking about the humiliation this little bitch had caused her, and after all she had done to make her life comfortable and secure. “Just a little farther, dear,” Amanda said soothingly, her brain on fire with anger.
“What’s that noise?” Martha asked. “It sounds like…”
“It’s the Shepaug River, dear,” Amanda replied as she took hold of Martha’s wrist with her other hand. “Just ahead is where it goes over the rapids.” Amanda took a step, turned, and with both hands swung Martha ahead of her, just as the ground fell away. Martha teetered on one foot on the brink of the rock, and for a moment it appeared that she would recover her balance. Then, without a sound, she went backward over the edge and, looking wide-eyed back toward Amanda, fell ninety feet onto the river-washed boulders below.
Amanda watched for a moment as Martha’s limp form traveled through the rocks and downstream, out of sight in the rushing waters. Then she returned to where she’d spread the tablecloth, sat down, poured herself the last of the wine, and sipped it. When she was again completely composed, she took her portable cellular phone from her pocket and punched in a number.
Chapter 43
Stone and Arrington were having brunch at the Brasserie, which had become a weekend hangout for them. Stone had his notebook out and was writing as quickly as Arrington could talk.
“So that’s five parties I took Jonathan to, one of them a dinner party,” she was saying.
Stone checked his notes against the list of burglaries. “He hit all five, plus three more – Berman, Charleson, and White.”
“They were all at one or more of the parties I took him to.”