When they arrived at the house they learned that because of the weather — it was a beautifully mild day — all of the guests had gone outside to the pool. Clark and Faye went around the house to the south gardens, where the large green-tiled swimming pool was located. At one side were cabanas and a long, open playhouse complete with bar, gaming tables, barbecue pits, and dressing rooms with showers. Gaily colored sponge-rubber sun cushions were scattered all about the pool and on the grass. Dozens of guests, in either sports clothes or bathing suits, were taking in the sun and their usual heavy quantities of alcohol. Clark knew most of the people and was vainly pleased by a change in their attitude toward him. Not only did they admire him for what seemed to be his role of martyr, but their respect for him also was growing as a result of the publicity he was receiving over his business transactions. He felt himself now to be solidly one of their group.
Ricki, darkly handsome in brief trunks and a good tan, was happy to see him and whispered in his ear, “Glad to have you aboard. You’ve been hiding out.”
“Just busy.” His eyes swept over the guests, then he asked, “Where’s Ione?”
“She was here a minute ago. Maybe she went in the house for something. Look. How about putting on some trunks? There’s a whole mess of them to pick from in the men’s dressing room.” He pointed and said, “First door on the left.”
Clark did not enjoy wearing anything not hand-picked for him by an expert, but the sun felt good and the water looked inviting, so he went into the dressing room and pulled on a pair of Hawaiian trunks. When he walked to the edge of the pool everyone turned to look at him, the women generally with a sharp little intake of breath. When he was fully dressed Clark seemed to be fairly slim and rather lithe, a deception brought about by excellent proportions and good tailoring, but when he was in trunks the hardness of his body, the long, lean, powerful, rippling muscles, the washboard stomach, and the deepness of his chest were all immediately apparent. With his brown hair, light blue eyes, and good tan he seemed like a young gladiator who could take on the world.
Eric Bothello, seated on the far edge of the pool with his legs in the water, glanced narrowly at Clark and really understood for the first time why he had been whipped. In spite of his own bulk he felt a coolness in his spine.
Ione had just come through the gardens and was walking toward the pool when she saw Clark standing in the sun. She caught her breath at the magnificence of his physique and came to a halt, staring at him. She felt a tiny catch in her throat and heat in her eyes and experienced the feeling Clark had had when he had first looked upon her. When he dived into the water she swung her glance toward Faye and her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned with a new-found determination.
Clark swam a few lengths of the pool, intending to stay in until he tired, but he caught sight of Ione walking toward the playhouse and pulled himself out of the pool. He caught up with her at the bar. He smiled down at her, feeling his body ache at the strain of not being able to take her in his arms. She was wearing a scanty pair of white trunks that fitted her hips like skin and a narrow halter that did little to hide her firm perfection.
She tilted her head and gave him a slanting look and a small smile as she sipped at her drink. She looked out at Faye chatting with the women, then back at Clark. “Is this your idea or Faye’s?”
“Hers. But I wanted to come.”
“You’re a fool. I’ve been expecting you every Sunday. Do you think you have to hide out? Or — well, maybe you’re embarrassed being seen with her. Is that it?”
“Listen, Ione — ”
“Maybe you should be even more embarrassed — then you’d get over it. Have you ever seen Faye cavorting in a swimming pool?”
She put her glass aside, left him, and walked out in the sun to where Faye was standing. They threw their arms about each other and kissed each other’s cheek. Ione started talking, then took Faye’s arm and led her toward the women’s dressing room, with a sly glance over her shoulder at Clark. When they came out a few minutes later Clark could feel the hot blood burning in his cheeks. Faye was indeed something to behold. She was wearing trunks equally as tight as Ione’s, but on her they emphasized the broad pelvis and the boniness of her hips. She was wearing a halter that was much too small. Standing beside the smaller and beautifully proportioned Ione, Faye seemed immense and grotesque.
Faye liked swimming and loved diving, and felt that a swimming pool was something in which to play and be like a child again. Her swimming, however, was strictly dog fashion, and whenever she dived from the high or low board her legs were bent, her back was too loose, and she never quite managed to hit the water right. Each time she went in it was as if a square two-hundred-pound block of cement had been dropped into the water from a great height. The resulting splash was like a waterspout at sea. But she enjoyed it and splashed about and squirted water from her lips and splashed on everyone and laughed and cried for Clark to come in with her. He went into the water only to shut her up and instantly regretted it. The moment he came up at her side she laughed and ducked him under again. Ducking was another game she enjoyed. Clark was ducked a half-dozen times before he swam away from her and crawled out of the pool. She came out after him, shouting with laughter, tackled him on the grass, and started wrestling with him. He was about to clip her on the chin when she suddenly collapsed with laughter and lay on her back on the grass.
She squeezed his leg and gasped, “Wasn’t that fun?”
He got to his feet, went to the bar, mixed a stiff highball, and gulped it down. He felt cool fingers on his shoulder and turned to look into Ione’s eyes.
She asked huskily, “See what I mean?”
He glared at her, but suddenly looked out at Faye still lying on the grass and then burst into laughter. The whole situation was ludicrously funny to him. It was not, however, the reaction Ione had expected, and she gave him a puzzled frown. He stopped laughing, but was chuckling as he said, “You wouldn’t understand. But she certainly enjoys herself in the water, doesn’t she?”
“The two of you looked pretty silly.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I guess she had fun. She can use a lot of that.”
Ione said furiously, “Oh, you great big noble creature, you. What is this with you, a pose? You aren’t naturally this tolerant.” She surprised an expression of shock in his eyes, instantly veiled. She placed a hand on his arm and said contritely, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re having a rough time with her and I have to get nasty about it. I really am sorry, Clark.”
“It’s O.K.”
She leaned back with her elbows on the bar. “But you do have me curious,” she said. “I know your temper — look how you exploded with Eric — but you’re practically a saint in this situation. Why is that? Can you tell me?”
He went quickly through a list of the right things to say and said casually, “I don’t think I know all the answers myself. One thing, though, I simply can’t bring myself to hurt her. My God, there’s no sense pretending she’s anything but a big, dumb cow and a hell of an exhibitionist, but even so — Let’s say it would be too easy to hurt her, much easier than with anyone else, and I can’t do it.”
“It’s more than that, though.”
Sure, he thought, eleven million dollars more, but he said thoughtfully, “Of course it is. Once when I was a child I got kicked around pretty brutally. I’ll never forget it. Faye reminds me of a child. So many ways.”
“And you can’t kick her.”
“No.”
“Then what do you intend doing about it?”
The highball had warmed him and he wondered if he should have another drink and mixed a new one while he wondered about it. “Well,” he replied, “there is a solution.” He did not miss the sudden light of eagerness in the dark depths of Ione’s eyes and said, “As I say, she’s really a child. She has to play with toys, but I notice she abandons them pretty fast, or, if they get broken, she’s never upset very long. Right now
I’m the brightest toy she has. Yet that brightness is already beginning to wear off. In her dull, plodding way she’s slowly beginning to realize that her play is strictly one-sided. One of these days, I don’t think it will take too long, she’ll suddenly face the facts of the situation and that will be it. Then I’ll be able to leave her without having to tear her apart.”
Ione asked breathlessly, “How long, Clark?”
He sipped at his drink, watching her over the rim of the glass. When he lowered it he asked, “How long will you wait?”
She smiled nervously and replied, “I didn’t say.” Her eyes slid away from his, she remained there indecisively a moment longer, then suddenly she walked away and dived into the pool to join Eric. Clark smiled and again lifted his glass.
Ione stayed away from him the balance of the afternoon. Clark joined Ricki and some others for a game of canasta on the grass, which broke up as the sun went down and a chill crept in from the ocean. He got dressed and went with Faye and the rest of the guests to the bar inside the house. Ione, he noticed, was not around and the party was beginning to break up. Even Faye was getting restless and was organizing a half dozen of the others for a dinner party at the Lodge.
Clark wanted to see Ricki before he left and remembered that he had said something about going upstairs to change clothes. He wandered through the house to the huge entrance hallway and went up a stairway to the he figured that, with his liking for the sun, it would be second floor. He had no idea which room was Ricki’s, but at the southern corner of the house. He turned left down a deeply carpeted hallway and walked to the far end, where he faced two doors. He chose the one on the right. Ordinarily he would have knocked, but his mind was occupied with one of the business deals he was attempting to close and he simply turned the knob, opened the door, and walked in.
The room in which he found himself was large, occupying the whole southwest corner-of the upper floor with plate-glass windows facing over the ocean and south over the bay. It was an intensely feminine room of soft pastel shades, ankle-deep carpeting, whimsical water colors on the walls, and expensive furnishings collected for comfort and eye appeal rather than a period or a fashion. In the air were the haunting scents of many different perfumes. Against the north wall was an oversize bed. Ione was standing by the side of the bed.
Her back was toward Clark, one knee on the bed, but she was twisted half about staring at him over a bare shoulder. She had evidently just come from the bath and was about to dress. Her clothes were scattered on the bed. She had pulled on sheer stockings fastened to a garter belt and was wearing high-heeled black slippers. She was so startled by his sudden appearance that she made no attempt to cover herself.
Clark mumbled, “I — I was looking for Ricki and — ” but got no farther. He stared at the perfection of her body and the velvety smoothness of her skin and all else dissolved but Ione at the end of the tunnel of his sight. He closed the door and moved slowly toward her and her eyes opened even wider and she caught her breath sharply. She straightened and turned slowly about and whispered hoarsely, “No, Clark. No.” But when he reached her and his arms slid about her waist she clasped his shoulders fiercely and crushed her body against his.
Then tears suddenly came to her eyes and she tore herself loose from his embrace. Her body flashed briefly before Clark’s eyes and she disappeared into the dressing room. He waited a while, then got to his feet and was about to leave when she returned. She had thrown on a robe and knotted it about her waist. Her coal-black hair was still disheveled and tumbled loosely about her shoulders. She came directly to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He said, “You know I’m in love with you.”
“Yes, I think you are, and oh, my darling, I’m in love with you. I think I just realized it fully today. I do love you, but I can’t love you on this basis any more than you can hurt poor Faye. You understand.”
He took her in his arms and could feel the firmness and smoothness of her body under the robe. Then she pushed herself away.
“I can’t do it, Clark. I’m afraid I’m not that kind of person.”
He forced his hands away from her, realizing that he was winning everything he wanted, but knowing that the wrong move at that moment could ruin it all. He nodded and said, “It’s tough, but we can wait.”
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him and tears were again in her eyes. But she then took his arm and gently forced him toward the door. He stepped into the hallway and the door clicked behind him. He stood there a few moments until the pulse pounding in his temples began to slow down. Then he glanced at the closed door and moved on down the hall.
He was crossing the downstairs foyer when the butler spotted him and informed him, “I was just looking for you, sir. You are wanted on the telephone. A Mr. Malloy, I believe.”
Clark took the phone in the library, waited until the butler had left, then said, “Joey?”
“Yeah. Say, kid, somethin’s happened. You’d better get home right away.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Elsie. She committed suicide.”
Chapter Thirteen
CLARK TOLD FAYE that he would meet her later at the Lodge, without telling her what had happened, and hurried out to his car. He was impatient to get home and talk with Joey, yet he drove slowly, wondering about Elsie and what effect it would have on him.
Joey was waiting for him alone in the massive living room, standing before the fireplace and drinking a highball. None of the lights had been turned on, but logs were glowing in the fireplace and the reflection of the flames danced about the room. Clark had expected to find the room filled with people and was puzzled as he stopped before Joey.
He asked hoarsely, “Where is she?”
Joey swallowed part of his drink, his tiny eyes fixed unwaveringly on Clark. He looked like a sad clown, but an angry one as well. He lowered his glass and said, “She’s on a slab, naturally. You expected to find her here?”
“Well, of course.”
“It didn’t happen here. Goddamn it, kid, I told you to stay away from that girl, didn’t I? I told you it was bad business.”
“Oh, shut up and tell me what happened.”
Joey took another deep swallow of his drink, then said, “Well, the funny thing is she’s been gone since yesterday. The last any of the other servants seen her was sometime yesterday afternoon.”
“Why didn’t they tell us?”
Joey shrugged. “They didn’t think nothin’ of it. Just thought she’d gone off for a visit somewheres. Anyways, just a little while ago a deputy sheriff named Scott — ”
Clark felt a sudden chill and gasped, “Jees, that guy!”
“Yeah. He sure ain’t no friend of yours. So he drops by a little while ago and tells me what happened. You know that highway up on top between the Hill Gate and Pacific Grove?”
“Yes.”
“Well, about a quarter mile along that highway it’s all woods, you know, and no houses. On the north side there’s a couple meadows, or clearings-like. Two kids was huntin’ in one of the meadows and found Elsie there. That was just before dark, maybe an hour ago. She was sittin’ in the grass, leanin’ back against a tree and lookin’ out over the bay. Only she wasn’t seein’ nothin’ ’count of a bullet hole in her head. She’d been there some time. This Scott says she was prolly dead yesterday evenin’.”
“Oh, hell.” Clark ran his hands over his face, then sat down on the arm of a couch facing Joey. “It was definitely suicide?”
“Yeah. No doubt of that. She had a thirty-two pistol she’d stole from the butler. Scott brought it with him and the butler took one look and says it’s his gun.”
“Where are the servants now?”
“They just went to their rooms. They all kinda liked Elsie, so they feel pretty bad.”
“This Scott questioned them?”
“He ques
tioned all of us and took a look through Elsie’s things in her room. He found that newspaper clippin’ about her and says well, that’s prolly the reason she done it.” He paused a moment, his little eyes still fixed on Clark, then said, “Me, I don’t think so. How ’bout you?”
“How the hell would I know what she had in her mind?”
“You knew her better’n me. You got no ideas?”
“No.”
“I got a couple. She was a nice gal, a real nice gal. She wasn’t no tramp.” The tone of his voice raised a fraction as he said, “I got a hunch she begins feelin’ she’s unclean, like a no-good tart. You know she ain’t been actin’ right lately. So she worries about it and worries about it and she can’t see no way out and it gets too much for her and — well, she just decides to end it all. I think that’s the way it went.”
Clark turned it over in his mind and could not agree. There was one large loophole. He had had nothing to do with Elsie since his marriage. If she had been living under pressure because of him, she must have realized that now she would be left alone and could stop worrying.
He squinted into the fireplace, rubbing a hand over his chin, and said, “It was something else.”
“Well, you got your ideas and I got mine. Anyways, this Scott character is gonna do some investigatin’. He says he’ll drop by tomorrow and wants to talk to you.” He moved away from the fireplace, picked up a loud sports jacket from the arm of a chair, and slipped it on. “As for me,” he said, “I feel a little sick. I’m gonna go get myself good and plastered. Damn it all, kid, that Elsie was a nice gal.”
Clark got up and stopped him at the door. “Wait a minute, Joey. You didn’t tell that Scott — ”
“About you and Elsie? You think I’m nuts? He don’t know nothin’ and neither’s anyone else.”
“Keep it that way.”
“What else?”
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