April smiles at Simon and then looks to May. “Perhaps it’s time we revealed to Simon that we know what else he is, eh?”
“Really? Maybe you’re right, it should put him in his place.”
Simon looks at both girls uneasily. “What are you two talking about?”
“Would you like the honors May?”
May smiles wickedly at Simon. “No, he’s all yours.”
“Very well, Simon we know that you killed mother and we think we know where you hid her body.”
Simon smiles at the girls and starts to laugh. Then the smile crumbles upon his face and he collapses onto the sofa, weeping.
April and May share a satisfied look and move over from their seats to sit down on either side of him.
“We’ll never tell anyone Simon, not as long as you behave.” April says.
“We don’t blame you for killing mother, after all, you were just protecting us.” May says.
Simon howls out through his tears. “It was an accident! I swear to God it was an accident. I never meant to harm Angeline.”
April says. “We know that and you know that, but the police won’t know that. The police will just call it murder.” And Simon cries even harder.
April and May sit beside the man who loved and raised them as a father and leave him to his pain. Neither makes a move to soothe or comfort him.
In time, Simon stops crying and composes himself.
“How do you know what I did? You were in that coma-like state when it happened?”
“Dr. Jenkins hypnotized us about a year before his death and uncovered the memory from both of us. Later, he tried to make us believe that we were confusing it with the night that father hit mother, but we knew. You pushed her away from us when she returned to take us away too. Mother lost her balance and fell over the railing to the floor below. We remember hearing you crying over her and pleading God for mercy from your sin. We remember everything.” April says.
“You’re saying that Samuel knew about this and never said a word?” Simon asks, appearing even more shocked than before.
“I guess he loved you enough to cover up a murder for you.” April says.
“Simon?” May says.
“Yes?” Simon asks distractedly.
“Where is she? She’s beneath the fountain, isn’t she? All we remember seeing after you dragged her body from the foyer was you coming back in covered in dirt.”
“That’s where she is, that beautiful fountain is her headstone. I placed her there in a shallow grave the day before they poured the base for the fountain. I pray she rests in peace.”
“As May said Simon, we don’t blame you for killing mother, but June will. She’ll hate you for it.”
“What do you mean? Why would June hate me?”
“Mother was the only one who knew where June was, killing mother condemned June to that life she lived confined in that basement. She’ll hate you for that.” April says.
“Oh my God.” Simon whispers, horrified at the thought.
“This will stay our little secret. May and I will carry it to our graves as long as you remember your place in this house. You are our friend Simon and May and I love you, but June is our sister and we will decide her care. Do we understand each other?”
Simon stares at April and May, and at long last, truly sees them.
“Yes, we finally understand each other.”
“Good, now go into the kitchen and see to dinner, I’m suddenly feeling hungry. Oh, and Simon?”
“Yes April?”
“No more calls to Dr. Meyer or Carol, understand?”
“Yes April.”
“Yes Simon, it will be ‘Yes April’ from now on. Goodbye Simon.”
Simon staggers out of the room on weak legs as May moves over and hugs April.
“You really put him in his place, you were magnificent.”
“I was quite tired of his holier than thou attitude.”
“Poor mother, buried under that fountain, she’ll be there for a hundred years.”
April cocks an eyebrow. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“What do you mean? You would call the police on Simon?”
“Only if he decides to interfere again, he’d best behave.”
“He’ll do as we say now. He has no choice.”
April appears distracted as she gazes out the window and stares at the grounds. “Come along May, I think we should find out how that new groundskeeper is settling in.”
“Who? That hunk you hired after firing old Mr. Stiltson?”
“Yes, I told him he could use the carriage house while he looks for an apartment in town. I do hope he’s not lonely out there.”
May grins at her sister. “He won’t be for long.”
“No, I suppose he won’t.”
31
Tuesday, September 2nd, 12:42 P.M.
Gino Salvatori pats his nephew on the shoulder and takes a seat behind the desk in his study. Al looks across at his uncle and waits for him to speak.
“I hear you cancelled your trip to Zurich, why?” Gino asks.
“I only postponed it a few weeks. I have things to take care of here.”
“Does this have anything to do with that lady doctor you’re seeing? The one you never bring to the house by the way.”
Al grins. “Yes, it has something to do with her, indirectly, her brother actually, Davey.”
“Your friend Davey? The roommate you had in college?”
“Yes, he’s in a lot of trouble.”
“You might want to take that trip anyway, you could use the business.”
“What do you mean? The contest? Uncle Gino that biotech stock I invested in has split twice. The profit on that alone is eight figures, Marco can’t be matching those numbers with truck heists and protection rackets.”
“You’re right, he’s way behind, but he tells me he has something big up his sleeve, and it’s worth somewhere in the nine figure range.”
“Nine fig—what is it?” Al says.
Gino wags his finger. “I’ve said too much already.”
Al looks intently at his uncle as realization dawns. “You want me to win.”
Gino reaches into a bottom drawer and brings out a bottle of Cognac and two stout cut crystal glasses.
“Your father and I had two older brothers, did you know that?”
“Poppa mentioned them once or twice, but I don’t recall their names.”
“Antonio and Bruno, you and Marco remind me so much of them. Antonio was a thinker and my father’s favorite, but Bruno, he was a fighter, a hothead. Back in those days we owned the city, but that wasn’t good enough for Bruno, he started a war with the Bonelli family, and in the end, both he and Antonio were dead.” Gino stops talking and closes his eyes.
While waiting for his uncle to continue, Al takes a sip of his Cognac and finds it is excellent.
Gino suddenly opens his eyes. “When your father died it nearly killed me, my baby brother, gone, just like that.”
“I remember.” Al says. “It’s the only time I’ve seen you cry.”
“Franco would be proud of you Al, hell, I’m proud of you. You’re the future of this family, not Marco. Marco’s too much like Bruno: big balls and a little brain. I love him Al. He’s my boy. This contest was just my way of letting Marco save face. I never thought he had a prayer of beating you.”
“He won’t beat me.”
“If he does, ‘The Family’ is his.”
“I understand.” Al says.
Gino dismisses him with a wave. “I’ve held you up long enough, go back to work.”
At the door, Al turns. “How’s tomorrow night?”
Gino sends him a perplexed look.
“To meet the lady doctor, Carol, how’s tomorrow night sound, say seven o’clock?”
Gino smiles. “I’ll tell your Aunt Rosa to make her stuffed shells.”
Al grins. “It’s a date.”
Frank Brooks answers the door of his apartment
and finds Jack and Kelly Martin smiling at him.
“Are you Frank Brooks Sir?” Jack asks.
“Who wants to know?” Frank says to Jack, while admiring Kelly.
“I’m Jack Martin and this is my wife Kelly. We’re investigating the disappearance of David Manning.”
“Who?”
“David Manning, may we come inside Sir?”
Frank ignores the question and asks one of his own. “You two aren’t cops, Feds maybe?”
“Former Feds actually,” Kelly says. “We’re looking for David at his sister’s request. His sister and fiancée miss him very much. We understand that his fiancée even attempted suicide.”
“Christ! This guy Manning seems to inspire women to extreme behavior.”
“Miss Davenport, Mr. Manning’s fiancée, loves him very much.” Jack says.
Frank shrugs and tells Jack and Kelly to come inside. He removes a stack of old newspapers from the sofa and motions for them to sit, he then settles across from them in an armchair. The apartment is sparsely furnished and consists of a living room, bedroom, bath and a kitchenette.
“I know it’s a little messy in here but my apartment’s really just a place for me to crash. I work long hours.”
“We know Mr. Brooks, we’ve just come from the Windmill Theater. Several people informed us that you and Alison James are seeing each other. We’d like to get in touch with her.” Jack says.
“Alison and I broke up several weeks ago Mr. Martin. I don’t think I can help you.”
“Mr. Brooks do you ever use the payphone in front of the theater?” Kelly asks.
“Sure…from time to time, why?”
“Someone made a call from that phone to the police stating that they knew the condition and whereabouts of David Manning.”
Frank nods at Kelly. “Interesting,”
“Mr. Brooks we’re not looking for David Manning to send him to jail, we’re looking for him to help him. We believe that Alison has him somewhere and we also believe you’re helping her and know where they are.”
Frank stares at Kelly silently, as his breathing increases and his face turns red, when he opens his mouth to speak, he is shouting.
“You think I’m helping my girlfriend to hide and get back together with her ex-boyfriend? Why would I do such a thing? That would make me an idiot wouldn’t it? A man who loves a woman and yet helps her to run off with another man would be a fucking idiot wouldn’t he? That would make me a goddamn, grade A, perfect fucking idiot!”
Jack and Kelly glance at each other quickly, Kelly then locks eyes with Frank as she reaches over and takes his hand.
“That wouldn’t make you an idiot Frank. It would just mean that you love Alison so much that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her.”
Frank calms down. “You’re right, and that’s why I can’t help you.”
Jack leans forward. “David’s alive isn’t he? And you know where they are, don’t you?”
Frank removes his hand from Kelly’s as he closes his eyes. “I can’t help you. If I helped you she would hate me. You have to leave now, please.”
Jack and Kelly reluctantly rise to leave, just before Frank closes the door he speaks. “David Manning’s alive. He’s amnesic, but he’s fine now. I can’t tell you anymore.”
Kelly smiles sadly. “Thank you Frank,”
Frank slowly closes the door in their faces.
11:47 p.m.
June lies sleeping in a drug-induced stupor. She’d begun taking sleeping pills prescribed by Dr. Rowlands to help her with the trouble she was having sleeping. Rowlands increased her dosage gradually, so that now, her slumber more resembles that of a coma than restful sleep.
The past few nights, Rowlands has snuck into June’s bedroom while she slept. Rowlands now stands at her bedside, watching her.
The doctor has become sexually obsessed with the Davenport triplets.
April and May flirt constantly while keeping him at arm’s-length. June, conversely, has displayed a polite dislike for the doctor. Dr. Rowlands can’t medicate April and May into submission. June is a different story.
In the beginning, Rowlands had slipped into her room and simply watched her sleep, of late, he would fondle her thighs and breasts until she nearly stirred. Tonight he plans to cross the line. It has taken him four nights and nine bottles of Scotch to reach this state of depravity, but tonight he intends to rape June Davenport while she sleeps.
The dosage of medication that his patient took tonight should keep her quite compliant while he…examines her.
Rowlands strips naked and climbs onto the bed, he then unbuttons June’s pajama top. He hears the door opening before he sees the ever-widening triangle of light from the hall illuminate the room. The next thing he hears is the sound of the gun being cocked; his state of arousal diminishes quite rapidly upon hearing that sound.
Simon stands in the doorway holding a pearl-handled .38 revolver.
“Get off of that bed you bloody rotten bastard.”
Rowlands scurries off of the bed and reaches for his robe. “Simon th—this isn’t what it looks like.”
Simon raises the gun and points it at Rowlands’ chest. “Why don’t you just tell me what it is then?”
“Well, June and I have become lovers, but she doesn’t want anyone to know. We were about to make love but I think she took too much sleeping medication tonight. I suppose I’ll have to wait until tomorrow for her to make love to me.”
“You were about to rape her.”
“That’s crazy, and please put that gun down, it’s making me very nervous.”
“It will make you very dead if you ever try this again. Do we understand each other?”
Rowlands swallows hard while looking down the barrel of the gun. “Yes Simon.”
“Get out!”
Rowlands leaves and Simon locks the door. He goes over to the bed and buttons June’s pajama top. He tries to awaken her and is only successful in getting her to moan. He walks over to the roll-top desk that sits in a back corner of the room and slides out its accompanying leather office chair. After rolling the chair closer to the bed, he sits there with the gun in his lap.
Simon gazes at June as tears begin falling from his eyes.
He whispers in the dark room. “David you had better come back soon.”
Simon spends the night sitting in the chair, guarding June until she awakens.
32
June doesn’t awaken enough for Simon to hold a conversation with her until nearly ten a.m. Simon sits on the edge of the bed and holds her hand. He gives it a slight squeeze when she begins to slide back into sleep. He also holds her hand to muster his courage.
“June dear, are you awake now?”
“Yes Simon, but I’m so sleepy.”
“You’re not sleepy, you’ve been drugged by Dr. Rowlands.”
“Dr. Rowlands?”
“Yes dear he’s been drugging you.”
June shows no reaction to this news. “Simon I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry for what?”
“For whatever I’ve done to make you angry, you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
“You haven’t done anything and I’m not angry with you. I’ve been avoiding you because I’ve been ashamed to face you.”
“Ashamed of what?”
“Of not doing my best to protect you. Thank God I was able to help you last night.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Dr. Rowlands tried to rape you.”
June sits up in bed, waking now more fully. “What?”
“Kari, one of the maids, spotted him sneaking into your room and told me about it. By the time I got up here the man was naked and had your top unbuttoned.”
“Simon thank God you caught him. Did you call the police?”
“No June I couldn’t, April wouldn’t have approved. She wants the doctor to stay.”
“I want him gone now. I don’t care what April wants.”
“
Good, but you’ll have to do it yourself. I’m leaving today.”
“What do you mean…where are you going?”
“I have no idea. I have lived nearly my entire life in this house, I just don’t know.”
“You can’t leave. Whatever’s wrong we’ll work it out, please stay.”
“I can’t. It’s April and May they’re…they’re blackmailing me.”
“Blackmail? What could you have possibly done that’s so bad?”
“I can’t tell you. If you knew you would hate me. I’ve already lost two of my girls, I can’t lose you too. I couldn’t bear it if you hated me.”
June sees that her sensitive friend has begun to cry softly and gives his hand a squeeze.
“Simon I love you. You’ve been like a father to me.”
At these words, Simon’s tears turn into a full-blown crying jag.
June hugs him to give comfort. “What’s wrong? You’re breaking my heart.”
Simon winds down and regains his composure. June releases him from her embrace and kisses him gently on the cheek.
“I have to tell you something. It’s not about the blackmail, this is something else, something no one else knows.”
“What is it? You seem so serious.”
“June, I know your life experience is limited, but you do know that I am a homosexual, don’t you?”
“Yes, I mentioned to David one day that there was something different about you from other men and he explained it to me.”
Simon gives her a guarded look. “What exactly did he say dear?”
“David said that he thought you were a homosexual. When I asked him what that meant he said that it meant that you preferred men over women sexually.”
“Is that really all he said?”
“Yes, and I prefer men too Simon.” June says factually.
Simon smiles at her kindly. “You really are quite sweet dear. I pray that you never lose all of your naiveté.”
“What’s that mean, ‘naiveté?”
“It’s innocence dear, and may you never lose all of it, it makes you special.”
“Thank you, I think you’re special too.”
“If you knew all about me you might not, but I’m getting away from what I wanted to say. Maybe I should just start at the beginning, it might make more sense. June, when I was eight-years-old my mother and I moved here from England, soon after, she went to work for…your father.
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