‘My cat.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m getting there. She hasn’t come back in two days. That’s never happened before. Ann is an anointed martyr and is being noncommittal. But Mercedes was an innocent animal. I can’t believe he was capable of doing something so monstrous.’ She felt a sob begin in her chest.
‘It’s only a cat, for crying out loud.’
‘You men don’t understand what a cat means. There’s some strange chemistry, a different kind of love.…’
‘Have you got any proof?’
‘Well, Mercedes is gone. That’s proof enough. I put her in Ann’s care. I figure that Oliver’s anger pushed him to it. Look what he did with that man’s equipment, for crying out loud.’ Her lips began to tremble and she could not find her voice.
‘Just don’t do anything stupid,’ Thurmont said. But she could not respond and hung up. Unable to control her sobbing, she went upstairs, took a Valium, and fell into a deep sleep.
She awoke to the big clock in the foyer chiming eleven, which confused her, but helped bring back her sense of time and with it the depression inspired by Mercedes’s disappearance. She heard Benny’s bark and Oliver’s tread as he came up the stairs. She dashed out to the hall to meet him.
‘You did something to Mercedes,’ she cried. She could hear Eve’s stereo playing in the background.
‘That’s quite an accusation,’ Oliver responded. He looked rumpled and unusually tired.
‘I demand an explanation,’ she said, feeling the hatred rise. Her entire nervous system seemed to vibrate. ‘I didn’t think you were capable of that.’
‘So you’ve already tried and convicted me.’
‘She was an innocent. She was all mine. That’s why you did it.’
He looked up and down the corridor.
‘All right. Come down to the workroom so the kids can’t hear.’
Her knees shook as she followed him, watching the back of his head. His hair seemed grayer now. She remembered how upset he had been when the first speckle of salt appeared among the jet-black strands. He was twenty-eight, and she had teased him about it. ‘My old man,’ she had called him. ‘As long as you grow old with me. The best is yet to be,’ she had said. A lump rose in her throat and she wiped the memory from her mind. She would not let sentiment destroy her resolve.
He paused for a moment to switch on the sauna, then he moved to a corner of the workroom and leaned against a workbench, fiddling with the handle of a vise. She hung back, fearful of going near any of the tools or machinery. Once she had worked side by side with him, learning how to use everything. He had been patient, teaching her the intricacies. Now the equipment frightened her. He took off his jacket and removed his tie.
‘Your little pussy has met his maker.’
The words, coming so unexpectedly, shocked her and she bit her lip to stop its trembling.
‘You had to set up this great production number,’ he continued. ‘In my own house. Using my daughter’s room. It was disgusting. Uncivilized. Bestial.’ For a moment his voice rose, then he quieted his tone, his gaze rising to the ceiling. ‘I would be ashamed to mention such a thing to my children. Throwing Ann at me like a piece of meat.’
‘But Mercedes…’ she began. ‘She was just an innocent.’
‘So was Ann.’
‘Ann isn’t dead.’
‘Well, Mercedes wouldn’t be dead, either, if it wasn’t for your absurd caper.’ He looked at her and shook his head. ‘I didn’t kill her. I don’t kill animals. Your detective crushed her when he rushed down the alley in his van.’
She tried to quiet her inner turmoil.
‘You are responsible,’ she said, unable to hold back the panic. ‘Maybe indirectly. But responsible. And I suppose you’re glad. You always hated Mercedes anyway.’
T never liked cats in general, especially females,’ he muttered, starting to unbutton his shirt.
‘I’ll never forgive you for this, Oliver. Never.’ Her heart pounded and she felt inadequate to her anger, leaving most of it unexpressed.
‘Forgive me? Here you’ve messed up our lives and you talk about forgiveness. I wouldn’t even dignify the word.’ He shook his finger in her face. ‘You’ve become an unreasonable bitch. This thing you’re putting us all through – it makes no sense. Take the money and run. But to want the whole thing, as if I hadn’t existed, hadn’t worked my tail off to pay for any of it. That’s irrational.’
‘Don’t talk to me about rationality. Was ruining my meat pastries rational?’
‘And my orchids? I suppose that was an act of reasonableness.’ He continued to unbutton his shirt, then drew it out of his pants. She remembered how once she had coveted his body. ‘My beautiful god.’ The memory echoed and reechoed, as if it were lost with her irrevocably in an abandoned cave.
‘I’m never going to give in, Oliver. Never.’
‘The court will decide.’
‘I’ll appeal. It’ll go on forever.’
‘Nothing is forever.’ He turned away from her and removed his pants and underwear, flaunting his nakedness. She watched as he moved toward the sauna. Before he opened the door, he bent over.
‘You can kiss my ass.’
He went into the sauna and closed the door. She stood rooted there, beyond anger, oddly calm, feeling only hatred. Her eyes roamed his workshop. She was surprised how clearly her mind was functioning now. She saw a brace of chisels neatly lined up against a wall. Selecting one, she removed a wooden mallet hanging nearby and moved toward the sauna. Placing the cutting edge of the chisel in the crack of the heavy redwood sauna door, she swung the mallet against the wooden handle of the chisel, wedging it firmly in the crack.
‘Make him well done,’ she muttered as she ran up the stairs.
18
He had heard the bang, but paid little attention to it. He had, of course, understood her anguish about Mercedes. The confrontation had been inevitable and he was glad that it was over, at least for the moment. To think that he was capable of killing Mercedes was a misperception. How could she possible believe he was capable of such an act?
He had been confused by her hatred of him from the beginning, but it was only now that he realized the full extent of it. He was not at all the rejected spouse with whom she had shared what he thought were good and productive years; he was the mortal enemy. Maybe she was unhinged. In need of psychological help.
He hadn’t really discussed such a tack with Goldstein. How could they prove she needed help? She would never submit to psychological testing. But raising the point might influence the judge. Perhaps she was crazy, had gone off her rocker. He had made her a reasonable offer. Surely Solomon would have ruled in his favor. The optimism mollified him. He was sure that, in the end, he would win.
The problem was that he was giving in to extraneous matters. He must guard against emotions going out of control. He would simply have to weather the waiting period, summon the patience to hold his line. She, on the other hand, had a tougher row to hoe. She was trying to prove that she had been damaged career-wise and, therefore, that her sacrifice had a value equal to the house and all its contents. A judge would have to be mad to grant such a depraved request.
The heat rose in the sauna and he felt his pores open and his body ooze into delicious liquefaction. Nothing was better than a sauna to relieve tension. He felt pain and anxiety slip out of his body.
He had set the sauna to its maximum heat, determined to cook himself into oblivion, so that the cold water of the shower, which completed the process, would shock him into luxurious relaxation. He would return, repeat the procedure three times, then drag himself up to bed and the dead sleep of physical depletion. There hadn’t been any new movies to see and he had stayed in the office doing legal research, more to fill up time than out of necessity. He had bought himself a pizza, which had lodged itself somewhere halfway between his mouth and his stomach. She had chosen a poor time for a confrontation.