“They absolutely did,” Laurie said. “And who knows what Regina and Nina will have to say this afternoon? I would be surprised if all four of them don’t bitterly regret getting involved in this program, even for the money.”
“I’m sure they already do,” Alex agreed.
“Alex, why do you think Powell insisted we all stay here tonight-and that we don’t interview him until tomorrow morning?”
“Building up the pressure on all of them, hoping one of them will crack? You and I will be the chief witnesses, if that happens,” Alex replied briskly. “My guess is that he’s bluffing.” He looked at his watch. “I’d better call my office. We’re due inside in fifteen minutes.”
“And I’m going to try my dad.”
Alex sat back in the chair, pretending to look for something in his briefcase.
He wanted to be here for Laurie if Leo Farley did not-or could not-answer the phone.
66
Leo’s cheery “Hello” took the edge off Laurie’s panic.
“I hear you were out on the town last night, Dad,” she said.
“Yes, I had a hot date at Mount Sinai. How’s your show going?”
“Why didn’t you call me when you went to the hospital?”
“So that you didn’t come rushing over here. I’ve had these episodes before. Jim Morris told me to calm down by watching game shows. Right now I’m watching an I Love Lucy rerun.”
“Then I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from it. I’ll be down by seven thirty at the latest.” Laurie hesitated, then asked, “Dad, do you really feel all right now?”
“I feel fine. Stop worrying.”
“You make that very hard,” Laurie said wryly. “All right, go back to I Love Lucy. I’ll see you later.”
With one hand she dropped the cell phone in her pocket. With the other, she impatiently fumbled for a tissue to brush away the tears that had begun to form in her eyes.
Alex reached into his pocket and handed her his freshly pressed handkerchief. As she accepted it he said, “Laurie, it doesn’t hurt to let go a little occasionally.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “The day I let go, I’ll lose my grip for good. I keep hearing that threat ringing in my ears. The only way I have kept my sanity at all is by hoping Blue Eyes keeps his promise that I’m next. Maybe when he kills me, he’ll be caught. If he gets away, maybe Dad and Timmy can change their identities and disappear; who knows? But suppose Timmy and I are outside together? Or if I die, suppose Dad isn’t here to protect Timmy?”
There was no answer Alex could offer her. Her tears stopped immediately, and he watched as Laurie pulled out her compact and dabbed her eyes. When she looked up at him her voice revealed no sign of stress. “You’d better make that call, Alex,” she said. “ ‘Mr. Rob’ expects us at the table in exactly fifteen minutes.”
Chief Penn, the graduates, Rod, Alex, Muriel, and Laurie had gathered at the dining room table when Robert Powell made his appearance.
“How quiet you all are,” he remarked. “I can understand why. You are under a great strain.” He paused as he looked from one to the other. “And so am I.”
Jane was about to enter the dining room.
“Jane, would you please excuse us and close the door? I have a few things to share with my guests.”
“Of course, sir.”
Powell addressed them: “Are any of you thinking that this beautiful day is exactly the same as the day of the Gala? I remember Betsy sitting at this table with me that morning. We were congratulating each other on our good luck at having such perfect weather. Could any of us have imagined that the next morning Betsy would be dead, murdered by an intruder?” He paused. “Or perhaps not by an intruder?”
He waited, and when there was no response, he went on briskly, “Now, let’s be sure I have the details straight. This afternoon, Regina and then Nina will be interviewed. At about four-thirty the graduates will be dressed in replicas of the gowns they wore that night and photographed against the background of films of the Gala. My good friend George Curtis will be standing with you, Alex, sharing his impressions of that evening.”
He looked at Laurie. “Am I correct so far?”
“Yes, you are,” she said.
Powell smiled. “In the morning I will have my interview with you, Alex-with the graduates present. I hope and expect you will all find it quite interesting. One of you especially.” He gave a tight smile.
“As to later this evening, everyone at this table, with the exception of Chief Penn, will be staying overnight. After the last scene is finished, the graduates will be driven in individual cars to their hotels. You will pack and check out. Your luggage will be placed in your car. You will have dinner on your own wherever you wish to dine-as my guest, of course-but please return here by eleven o’clock. We will have a nightcap together at that time, then retire. I want everyone to be alert for what I have to say tomorrow. Is that understood?”
This time, as if compelled to respond, heads nodded.
“At brunch tomorrow I will present you the checks you have been promised. After that, one of you may want to use it to retain Mr. Buckley’s services.” He smiled a cold, mirthless smile. “Just joking, of course,” he added.
He turned to Nina. “Nina, you need not share your car with your dear mother. Muriel and I are going to dine together this evening. It is time to turn the page on the past.”
Muriel smiled adoringly at Powell, then shot a triumphant look at Nina.
“Enough of business. Let us now enjoy our luncheon. Ah, here comes Jane. I know she has prepared vichyssoise. You have not lived until you have sampled Jane’s vichyssoise. It is indeed nectar for the gods.”
It was served in total silence.
68
After leaving the dining room, Regina walked across the yard to the makeup van. The heat outside was a sharp contrast to the coolness of the house, but she welcomed it. After hearing Robert Powell’s elaborate plans for the rest of the day and tomorrow morning, she was sure of only one thing: he had her father’s suicide note. What more proof would anyone need that she had been Betsy’s killer?
For twenty-seven years, since she was fifteen years old, even under oath she had sworn there was no such note in his pocket or around his body.
Who could have had a stronger motive to kill Betsy? she asked herself. And there was no question that Robert Powell was determined to have closure on Betsy’s death. That was the whole purpose of his financing the program.
She walked past the pool. Crystal clear, reflecting the sun, brightly patterned lounge chairs scattered around it, it had the look of a stage setting. In the correspondence, they had all been invited to bring swimming apparel.
No one had.
Beyond it, the pool house, a miniature of the mansion, stood unused by anyone but the gardener, who incessantly entered and exited as he fussed over the grounds.
At the production van, Regina hesitated, then pulled open the door.
Meg was waiting, jars of cosmetics lined up neatly on the shelf in front of her.
Courtney was settled in the other chair, reading in front of a shelf of brushes, sprays, and a hair dryer.
This morning Courtney had told Regina that women would kill to have her thick, curly hair. “And I’ll bet you’ll say that it’s a nuisance because it grows too fast.”
That’s exactly what I did say, Regina thought.
She avoided looking at the wall on her left, where the pictures of herself and the other graduates at the Gala had been blown up.
She knew what they looked like. Claire, without a trace of makeup, her hair in a ponytail, her dress high-necked and with sleeves to her elbows. Alison, whose talented mother had made her gown, as she made all her clothes-Alison’s father was a produce manager in a grocery store. Nina, her dress daringly low cut, her red hair blazing, her makeup skillfully applied. Even then she looked so confident, Regina thought.