•93
•Rachel Milton picked up a moment after her maid put me on hold. "Ned, I'm so relieved you got back to me. Suki told me about your mother. How are you doing?"
“I seem to be a little disconnected," I said.
“I could kick myself for not putting everything else aside and running down to the hospital. Did you get my flowers?"
"Thank you. That was very thoughtful." I stretched out on my bed and watched two heavyweight flies circling between the ceiling and the window. Every second or third time, one of them flew into the glass, dropped under the table, and buzzed back up two or three seconds later.
“I hear you and Laurie Hatch have gotten to know each other."
"A little bit."
"She and I used to be good friends until a silly misunderstanding came between us. The next time you talk to Laurie, would you tell her that I would like to repair our friendship?"
“I'll mention it," I said.
Rachel Milton asked about the funeral, and I gave her the details.
“I have to say goodbye to Star, and I want to see you. I remember when you were born!" She paused for a purposeful beat. "And I knew your father. We were all so jealous when he decided that your mother was the one for him." Another meaningful pause. "Suki told me you were interested in Edward Rinehart."
“I'd like to hear anything you could tell me," I said.
"After the funeral, we'll go somewhere for lunch."
A fly struck the window with the sound of a tennis ball hitting a concrete wall and dropped to the floor. I wondered what was buzzing around in Rachel Milton's brain and decided to postpone speculation until after the funeral. Then I succumbed and called Laurie Hatch.
"Where are you?" Her voice sounded like music. “I was so, I don't know what I was, but I didn't know where to find you, and I called your aunt. Did she tell you?"
“It took her a while," I said. “I'm at the Brazen Head."
"The Brazen Head? Where's that?"
I gave her my number. "All this stuff has been going on, I hardly know where to begin."
"Start with the fire."
I told her about the fire and Toby Kraft. “In another part of the forest, these goons who mistook me for someone else nearly jammed me up, but I got away. Compared to Edgerton, Manhattan is like a tropical island."
"So come to my tropical island."
“I have to go to a lawyer's office and sign some papers. After that I should probably just crash here."
She paused for a second. “I gather that you and Stewart had a long conversation."
"Nothing he said made any difference to me, Laurie."
"Did Ashleigh call you? An amazing thing happened."
“I seem to be out of the Ashleigh loop," I said. "Good news?"
“I don't know how, but she found exactly what she needed. Did you have anything to do with that?"
"How could I?" I asked.
"Ashleigh wouldn't tell me how she got the papers, so I was wondering. . . . Forget it. The best part is, Stewart still thinks he's in the clear. He's sickeningly pleased with himself, especially since he's certain that you'll never talk to me again."
I said that I had understood Stewart's motives.
"But I told you those dumb stories I made up fifteen years ago because the real one was so ugly. I appalled myself." I thought I heard ice ringing in a glass. "He must have had a field day when he came to Teddy Wainwright."
“I didn't pay attention. Oh! I almost forgot. Rachel Milton tried to get in touch with me, and when I called her back, she asked me to tell you that she wants to be friends again. Anyway, she's eager to talk to you."
"While we're on the subject of astonishing tales ..." Laurie's voice had fallen into its old, easy amusement. "Grennie has a thirty-five-year-old girlfriend from Hong Kong who's a financial genius. He met her when she came to his office to set up a charitable foundation, and he's been seeing her on the sly for months. She's extraordinarily pretty—Ming-Hwa Sullivan. She got married to a guy from Edgerton named Bill Sullivan when they were at Harvard Business School. They came back here because he got a job at First Illinois. She went into business for herself and became a huge success, and they split up. Grennie wants to marry her."
"And Rachel wants to cry on your shoulder," I said.
Her voice changed again. “I told you a stupid lie, and Stewart poisoned your mind. I have to explain what really happened." "The real story," I said. "Should I pick you up?" I told her that I'd renteda car. "Get inside the thing and drive it to my house." “I'll be there around six," I said.
•94
•Laurie and I carried our glasses and the remainder of the bottle into the living room and sat on the sofa near the fireplace and the big Tamara de Lempicka. She set the bottle on the carpet and leaned back into the cushions, cupping the glass in her hands. “I'm so embarrassed, I can hardly speak."
"You don't have to," I said.
"This enormous lie is right in front of us. This stupid habit! I thought no one could accept me if they knew my real story. I could hardly accept myself. It was soshameful." Tears rose to the surface of her eyes. "We were sopoor. My father was killed holding up aliquor store. Is this the kind of person you want to have dinner with?"
“It's no disgrace to have a tough start," I said.
Laurie fixed me with a burning glance. “I grew up with the idea that the world . . . Okay. There was no safetyanywhere. You didn't know if there was going to be food for dinner, and we were always getting evicted because my mother couldn't pay the rent. Every time we moved, I went to a different school, so I never had any friends. Not that I would have had friends anyhow. My clothes were from secondhand stores, not the cool ones, the ratty places. I was a laughingstock. Every day, I thought a big hole was going to open up in front of me, and I'd fall in and just keep on falling. I thought we were going to wind up on the street. Or that I'd be taken away to some kind ofprison, and my mother woulddie."
She wiped her eyes. "Anyhow, when she got married to this cameraman at Warner Brothers, Morry Burger, it was like being rescued from drowning. He had a job and a house in Studio City. For a while, everything was okay. But good old Morry drank a bottle of gin a day, and he started heating up my mother when he came home from work. I hid in my room, and I listened to him hitting her, and her crying, and him yelling at her to stop crying, and it was like . . . the hole opened up, and I fell in. I stopped feeling anything at all, I was like a zombie. Which was just as well, as it turned out. Here we get to the first of the good parts."
Laurie sank back again, holding her glass in front of her face. "When I was eleven, Morry started climbing into my bed at night. My mother was passed out. She would have killed me if she knew. Well, maybe she did know, but she never admitted it.
"Then Morry got fired from Warners. He managed to find some work, but the jobs never lasted more than a couple of weeks. I ran away from home about a dozen times, but the cops always brought me back. We lost the house in Studio City, which Morry found really depressing, I might add. For about six months, we moved from one dump to another, mainly on the edges of Hancock Park. And then, one night my mother went out and someone killed her in back of a drugstore. They never found the guy.