Helen moved her further away from the bedroom, patting Hilda's shoulder. "It's all right, you can tell me... I want to know what happened, it's very important."
Briefly, and in a hushed voice, Hilda related to Helen the story of the straitjacket.
Louis bent down to try to see Vebekka's face; she appeared to be sleeping. He gave a featherlike touch to her head and then joined Helen. "She's sleeping."
Helen gestured for him to come close, repeated everything Hilda had told her. Louis strode to Anne Marie's room, knocked and without waiting for an answer, entered and closed the door behind him.
Anne Marie looked up from her book, flustered, trying to straighten her blouse.
"I would like you to leave, you can arrange a flight at the reception desk."
He opened his wallet, and before Anne Marie had time to reply, he left a thick wad of folded bills on her bed. She snapped her book closed, wanting obviously to discuss the matter, but he walked out. She stared at the money, her lips pursed, then counted it, looked at the closed door and swore under her breath.
They were both sitting in the lounge when Anne Marie came out of her room, with case packed and coat over her arm. Her face was tight with anger. "Thank you for your generosity, Baron. Perhaps when you return to Paris, you would be kind enough to give me a letter of recommendation."
The baron threw the straitjacket at her feet.
"There will be no letter of recommendation."
Anne Marie stepped over the straitjacket, and crossed to the suite's double doors. She opened the righthand side, about to walk out without a word, but then she turned back.
"I would be most grateful for a letter, I will require one for future employment!"
Helen put her hand out to restrain Louis. Anne Marie looked at them both with disdain.
"I would be only too pleased to give you a letter of recommendation to have the baroness certified! She should have been, years ago! Dr. Franks is just another quack, another fool who'll take your money like the rest of them. There is no cure, it is a fantasy... your wife, Baron, is insane! She has been since I have been in your employment. She will kill someone, and that will be entirely your fault!"
Helen's restraining hand was pushed aside as the baron strode across the room. "You had better leave before I throw you out. Get out!"
"As you wish, Baron! I will collect my personal belongings from the villa."
He pushed her out and slammed the door shut. "I should have done this months ago."
At his feet was the straitjacket. He picked it up and stared at it. He seemed totally defeated.
"Don't give up, Louis, it isn't true. I believe in Franks."
He sighed, placing the jacket down on a chair. He kept his back to Helen. "Maybe she is right, maybe this is all a waste of time. I am so tired of it all, Helen."
His whole body tensed, his hands were clenched to his side. "I wish to God she were dead."
"That's not true!"
He turned to face her. "Isn't it? I was sitting by her bedside, earlier today, thinking if I had the guts I would put a pillow over her face and end it, for her, for me, then..."
"Then?"
He sighed, slumping into a chair. "She was lucid, understood that I cannot allow her to be with Sasha, and she called Franks, it was her decision."
Helen picked up her purse and took out her notebook. "I am sure he will help her, but I think we should at least talk to this woman. The more we know of Vebekka's background the better! Franks will need as much information as possible... Louis?"
He cocked his head and gave a rueful smile.
"Fine, whatever you say."
Helen picked up her coat, heading for her suite. "I'll have a bath and change. We can leave when Hilda returns to the hotel. I'll order some coffee."
Louis nodded, and then smiled. "Yes, I think some coffee would be an excellent idea."
The coffee arrived moments later, and Louis downed two cups before he felt sober. He carefully checked the time, first on his wristwatch, and then looked at the clock on the mantel. It was five-thirty.
He put in a call to this sons, and then spoke to Sasha for a while.
He said they missed her, and that he would tell her mama that she was being a good girl. The high-pitched voice hesitated before asking if her mama was being a good girl. He told her that everything was fine, and her mama would talk to her very soon. He managed to keep his voice calm and relaxed, but he was crying.
"Will she be coming home better, Papa?"
Louis pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "I hope so. She hasn't been very well for a day or so, which means we may be here longer than we anticipated." Sasha sighed with disappointment, but then changed the subject, talking about school and her new pony and telling him that she was practicing dressage, and entering a gymkhana — she was sure she would win a rosette this time. Angel — her pony — was living up to his name.
"Papa, we jumped a two-foot fence! He is wonderful!"
Louis congratulated his daughter, and then said he had to go, there was another call on the line. Sasha made kissing sounds, and he waited for her to replace the receiver before he put his down. He heard the click, then another click. He frowned; then replaced the receiver and walked into Vebekka's bedroom. She was propped up on her pillows, very pale, deep circles beneath her eyes.
"I will go to see the doctor tomorrow, Louis, even if you have to carry me there!" She sipped a glass of water, then replaced the glass on her bedside table. It took all her willpower to be calm, she needed something to help her, something to make her sleep, but she asked for nothing. She wasn't going to drug herself, not this time; she was determined she would see it through.
"I've dismissed Anne Marie. Hilda will be here shortly."
She leaned back, closing her eyes. "I never liked Anne Marie. Will you hold my hand?"
He sat on the edge of the bed, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed her fingers; they were so thin, so weak.
"Will you promise me something, Louis?"
"Depends on what it is!"
She didn't open her eyes. "I understand what trouble I cause, and I know I am always asking you to forgive me, but I always mean it. If this doctor thinks I will get worse, that these good moments will get fewer, and you are right, that I shouldn't be with Sasha, I understand that, but you must understand, I never... I never intend to hurt anyone, I don't know what takes me over, but it unleashes such terrible..."
"I know... I know, but you must rest now, regain your strength."
She withdrew her hand, turning away from him. "Louis, if nothing can be done, you know, if after the hypnosis you find out things, I want no lies, no cover-ups, no new tests, because I don't think I can stand it anymore. I'm getting worse, I know that, hours go by and I don't know what I have done, who I've hurt, so promise me."
He knew what she was going to ask of him and he leaned over the bed to kiss her cheek.
"Sleep now."
She opened her eyes, they pleaded, they begged him. "Don't put me away, Louis, help me to end it — promise me?"
He kissed her again, tilted her chin in his hands, looked deep into her eyes. He didn't answer, and her eyelids drooped as she fell asleep, her chin still cupped in his hands.
They were still together like a loving couple when Hilda slipped quietly into the bedroom. Gently the baron drew the covers to Vebekka's chin, and Hilda saw the way he brushed her cheek with the edge of his index finger.
"She was so frightened, sir, of the dark. Frightened someone was out there."
The baron patted Hilda's shoulder. "Hilda, my poor darling is frightened of her own shadow. Thank you for your care and attention, good evening."
Hilda whispered "Good evening" as he quietly closed the door. She began to knit, then looked to the closed shutter and remembered the woman, the one she had seen outside that afternoon; she had been like a shadow, waiting, watching. The click click of her own knitting needles soothed and calmed Hilda.