Master of the Game motg-1

by Sidney Sheldon

  On the twins' fifteenth birthday, Kate took them to the estate in South Carolina, where she gave a large party for them. It was not too early to see to it that Eve was exposed to the proper young men, and every eligible young man around was invited to the girls' party.

  The boys were at the awkward age where they were not yet seriously interested in girls, but Kate made it her business to see that acquaintances were made and friendships formed. Somewhere among these young boys could be the man in Eve's future, the future of Kruger-Brent, Ltd.

  Alexandra did not enjoy parties, but she always pretended she was having a good time in order not to disappoint her grandmother. Eve adored parties. She loved dressing up, being admired. Alexandra preferred reading and painting. She spent hours looking at her father's paintings at Dark Harbor, and she wished she could have known him before he became ill. He appeared at the house on holidays with his male companion, but Alexandra found it impossible to reach her father. He was a pleasant, amiable stranger who wanted to please, but had nothing to say. Their grandfather, Frederick Hoffman, lived in Germany, but was ill. The twins seldom saw him.

  In her second year at school, Eve became pregnant. For several weeks she had been pale and listless and had missed some morning classes. When she began to have frequent periods of nausea, she was sent to the infirmary and examined. Mrs. Chandler had been hastily summoned.

  "Eve is pregnant," the doctor told her.

  "But—that's impossible! How could it have happened?"

  The doctor replied mildly, "In the usual fashion, I would pre-sume."

  "But she's just a child."

  "Well, this child is going to be a mother."

  Eve bravely refused to talk. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble," she kept saying.

  It was the kind of answer Mrs. Chandler expected from Eve.

  "Eve, dear, you must tell me what happened."

  And so at last Eve broke down. "I was raped," she said, and burst into tears.

  Mrs. Chandler was shocked. She held Eve's trembling body close to her and demanded, "Who was it?"

  "Mr. Parkinson,"

  Her English teacher.

  If it had been anyone else but Eve, Mrs. Chandler would not have believed it. Joseph Parkinson was a quiet man with a wife and three children. He had taught at Briarcrest School for eight years, and he was the last one Mrs. Chandler would have ever suspected. She called him into her office, and she knew instantly that Eve had told the truth. He sat facing her, his face twitching with nervousness.

  "You know why I've sent for you, Mr. Parkinson?"

  "I—I think so."

  "It concerns Eve."

  "Yes. I—I guessed that."

  "She says you raped her."

  Parkinson looked at her in disbelief. "Raped her? My God! If anyone was raped, it was me." In his excitement he lapsed into the ungrammatical.

  Mrs. Chandler said contemptuously, "Do you know what you're saying? That child is—"

  "She's not a child." His voice was venomous. "She's a devil." He wiped the perspiration from his brow. "All semester she sat in the front row of my class, with her dress hiked up. After class she would come up and ask a lot of meaningless questions while she rubbed herself against me. I didn't take her seriously. Then one afternoon about six weeks ago she came over to my house when my wife and children were away and—" His voice broke. "Oh, Jesus! I couldn't help it." He burst into tears.

  They brought Eve into the office. Her manner was composed. She looked into Mr. Parkinson's eyes, and it was he who turned away first. In the office were Mrs. Chandler, the assistant principal and the chief of police of the small town where the school was located.

  The chief of police said gently, "Do you want to tell us what happened, Eve?"

  "Yes, sir." Eve's voice was calm. "Mr. Parkinson said he wanted to discuss my English work with me. He asked me to come to his house on a Sunday afternoon. He was alone in the house. He said he wanted to show me something in the bedroom, so I followed him upstairs. He forced me onto the bed, and he—"

  "It's a he!" Parkinson yelled. "That's not the way it happened, that's not the way it happened ..."

  Kate was sent for, and the situation was explained to her. It was decided that it was in everyone's interest to keep the incident quiet. Mr. Parkinson was dismissed from the school and given forty-eight hours to leave the state. An abortion was discreetly arranged for Eve.

  Kate quietly bought up the school mortgage, carried by a local bank, and foreclosed.

  When Eve heard the news, she sighed, "I'm so sorry, Gran. I really liked that school."

  A few weeks later when Eve had recovered from her operation, she and Alexandra were registered at L'Institut Fernwood, a Swiss finishing school near Lausanne.

  There was a fire burning in Eve that was so fierce she could not put it out. It was not sex alone: That was only a small part of it. It was a rage to live, a need to do everything, be everything. Life was a lover, and Eve was desperate to possess it with all she had in her. She was jealous of everyone. She went to the ballet and hated the ballerina because she herself was not up there dancing and winning the cheers of the audience. She wanted to be a scientist, a singer, a surgeon, a pilot, an actress. She wanted to do everything, and do it better than anyone else had ever done it. She wanted it all, and she could not wait.

  Across the valley from L'Institut Fernwood was a boys' military school. By the time Eve was seventeen, nearly every student and almost half the instructors were involved with her. She flirted outrageously and had affairs indiscriminately, but this time she took proper precautions, for she had no intention of ever getting pregnant again. She enjoyed sex, but it was not the act itself Eve loved, it was the power it gave her. She was the one in control. She gloated over the pleading looks of the boys and men who wanted to take her to bed and make love to her. She enjoyed teasing them and watching their hunger grow. She en-joyed the lying promises they made in order to possess her. But most of all, Eve enjoyed the power she had over their bodies. She could bring them to an erection with a kiss, and wither them with a word. She did not need them, they needed her. She controlled them totally, and it was a tremendous feeling. Within minutes she could measure a man's strengths and weaknesses. She decided men were fools, all of them.

  Eve was beautiful and intelligent and an heiress to one of the world's great fortunes, and she had had more than a dozen serious proposals of marriage. She was not interested. The only boys who attracted her were the ones Alexandra liked.

  At a Saturday-night school dance, Alexandra met an attentive young French student named Rene Mallot. He was not handsome, but he was intelligent and sensitive, and Alexandra thought he was wonderful. They arranged to meet in town the following Saturday.

  "Seven o'clock," Rene said.

  "I'll be waiting."

  In their room that night, Alexandra told Eve about her new friend. "He's not like the other boys. He's rather shy and sweet. We're going to the theater Saturday."

  "You like him a lot, don't you, little sister?" Eve teased.

  Alexandra blushed. "I just met him, but he seems— Well, you know."

  Eve lay back on her bed, hands clasped behind her head. "No, I don't know. Tell me. Did he try to take you to bed?"

  "Eve! He's not that kind of boy at all. I told you... he's—he's shy."

  "Well, well. My little sister's in love."

  "Of course I'm not! Now I wish I hadn't told you."

  "I'm glad you did," Eve said sincerely.

  When Alexandra arrived in front of the theater the following Saturday, Rene was nowhere in sight. Alexandra waited on the street corner for more than an hour, ignoring the stares of pass-ers-by, feeling like a fool. Finally she had a bad dinner alone in a small cafe and returned to school, miserable. Eve was not in their room. Alexandra read until curfew and then turned out the lights. It was almost two a.m. when Alexandra heard Eve sneak into the room.

  "I was getting worried about you," Alexandra whispered.
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  "I ran into some old friends. How was your evening—divine?"

  "It was dreadful. He never even bothered to show up."

  "That's a shame," Eve said sympathetically. "But you must learn never to trust a man."

  "You don't think anything could have happened to him?"

  "No, Alex. I think he probably found somebody he liked better."

  Of course he did, Alexandra thought. She was not really surprised. She had no idea how beautiful she was, or how admirable. She had lived all her life in the shadow of her twin sister. She adored her, and it seemed only right to Alexandra that everyone should be attracted to Eve. She felt inferior to Eve, but it never occurred to her that her sister had been carefully nourishing that feeling since they were children.

  There were other broken dates. Boys Alexandra liked would seem to respond to her, and then she would never see them again. One weekend she ran into Rene unexpectedly on the streets of Lausanne. He hurried up to her and said, "What happened? You promised you would call me."

  "Call you? What are you talking about?"

  He stepped back, suddenly wary. "Eve... ?"

  "No, Alexandra."

  His face flushed. "I—I'm sorry. I have to go." And he hurried away, leaving her staring after him in confusion.

  That evening when Alexandra told Eve about the incident, Eve shrugged and said, "He's obviously fou. You're much better off without him, Alex."

  In spite of her feeling of expertise about men, there was one male weakness of which Eve was unaware, and it almost proved to be her undoing. From the beginning of time, men have boasted of their conquests, and the students at the military school were no different. They discussed Eve Blackwell with admiration and awe.

  "When she was through with me, I couldn't move ..."

  "I never thought I'd have a piece of ass like that..."

  "She's got a pussy that talks to you ..."

  "God, she's like a tigress in bed!"

  Since at least two dozen boys and half a dozen teachers were praising Eve's libidinous talents, it soon became the school's worst-kept secret. One of the instructors at the military school mentioned the gossip to a teacher at L'Institut Fernwood, and she in turn reported it to Mrs. Collins, the headmistress. A discreet investigation was begun, and the result was a meeting between the headmistress and Eve.

  "I think it would be better for the reputation of this school if you left immediately."

  Eve stared at Mrs. Collins as though the lady were demented. "What on earth are you talking about?"

  'I'm talking about the fact that you have been servicing half the military academy. The other half seems to be lined up, eagerly waiting."

  "I've never heard such terrible lies in my whole life." Eve's voice was quivering with indignation. "Don't think I'm not going to report this to my grandmother. When she hears—"

  "I will spare you the trouble," the headmistress interrupted. "I would prefer to avoid embarrassment to L'Institut Fernwood, but if you do not leave quietly, I have a list of names I intend to send to your grandmother."

  "I'd like to see that list!"

  Mrs. Collins handed it to Eve without a word. It was a long list. Eve studied it and noted that at least seven names were missing. She sat there, quietly thinking.

  Finally she looked up and said imperiously, 'This is obviously some kind of plot against my family. Someone is trying to embarrass my grandmother through me. Rather than let that happen, I will leave."

  "A very wise decision," Mrs. Collins said dryly. "A car will drive you to the airport in the morning. I'll cable your grandmother that you're coming home. You're dismissed." Eve turned and started for the door, then suddenly thought of something. "What about my sister?" "Alexandra may remain here."

  When Alexandra returned to the dormitory after her last class, she found Eve packing. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going home."

  "Home? In the middle of the term?"

  Eve turned to face her sister. "Alex, don't you really have any idea what a waste this school is? We're not learning anything here. We're just killing time."

  Alexandra was listening in surprise. "I had no idea you felt that way, Eve."

  "I've felt like this every damn day for the whole bloody year. The only reason I stuck it out was because of you. You seemed to be enjoying it so much."

  "I am, but—"

  "I'm sorry, Alex. I just can't take it any longer. I want to get back to New York. I want to go home where we belong."

  "Have you told Mrs. Collins?"

  "A few minutes ago."

  "How did she take it?"

  "How did you expect her to take it? She was miserable— afraid it would make her school look bad. She begged me to stay."

  Alexandra sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what to say."

  "You don't have to say anything. This has nothing to do with you."

  "Of course it has. If you're that unhappy here—" She stopped. "You're probably right. It is a bloody waste of time. Who needs to conjugate Latin verbs?"

  "Right. Or who gives a fig about Hannibal or his bloody brother, Hasdrubal?"

  Alexandra walked over to the closet, took out her suitcase and put it on the bed.

  Eve smiled. "I wasn't going to ask you to leave here, Alex, but I'm really glad we're going home together."

  Alexandra pressed her sister's hand. "So am I."

  Eve said casually, "Tell you what. While I finish packing, call Gran and tell her we'll be on the plane home tomorrow. Tell her we can't stand this place. Will you do that?"

  'Yes." Alexandra hesitated. "I don't think she's going to like it."

  "Don't worry about the old lady," Eve said confidently. "I can handle her."

  And Alexandra had no reason to doubt it. Eve was able to make Gran do pretty much what she wanted. But then, Alexandra thought, how could anyone refuse Eve anything?

  She went to make the phone call.

  Kate Blackwell had friends and enemies and business associates in high places, and for the last few months disturbing rumors had been coming to her ears. In the beginning she had ignored them as petty jealousies. But they persisted. Eve was seeing too much of the boys at a military school in Switzerland. Eve had an abortion. Eve was being treated for a social disease.

  Thus, it was with a degree of relief that Kate learned that her granddaughters were coming home. She intended to get to the bottom of the vile rumors.

  The day the girls arrived, Kate was at home waiting for them. She took Eve into the sitting room off her bedroom. "I've been hearing some distressing stories," she said. "I want to know why you were thrown out of school." Her eyes bored into those of her granddaughter.

  "We weren't thrown out," Eve replied. "Alex and I decided to leave."

  "Because of some incidents with boys?"

  Eve said, "Please, Grandmother. I'd rather not talk about it."

  "I'm afraid you're going to have to. What have you been doing?"

  "I haven't been doing anything. It is Alex who—" She broke off.

  "Alex who what?" Kate was relentless.

  "Please don't blame her," Eve said quickly. "I'm sure she couldn't help it. She likes to play this childish game of pretending to be me. I had no idea what she was up to until the girls started gossiping about it. It seems she was seeing a lot of—of boys—" Eve broke off in embarrassment.

  "Pretending to be you?" Kate was stunned. "Why didn't you put a stop to it?"

  "I tried," Eve said miserably. "She threatened to kill herself. Oh, Gran, I think Alexandra is a bit"—she forced herself to say the word—"unstable. If you even discuss any of this with her, I'm afraid of what she might do." There was naked agony in the child's tear-filled eyes.

  Kate's heart felt heavy at Eve's deep unhappiness. "Eve, don't. Don't cry, darling. I won't say anything to Alexandra. This will be just between the two of us."

  "I—I didn't want you to know. Oh, Gran," she sobbed, "I knew how much it would hurt you."

&nb
sp; Later, over tea, Kate studied Alexandra. She's beautiful outside and rotten inside, Kate thought. It was bad enough that Alexandra was involved in a series of sordid affairs, but to try to put the blame on her sister! Kate was appalled.

  During the next two years, while Eve and Alexandra finished school at Miss Porter's, Eve was very discreet. She had been frightened by the close call. Nothing must jeopardize the relationship with her grandmother. The old lady could not last much longer—she was seventy-nine!—and Eve intended to make sure that she was Gran's heiress.

  For the girls' twenty-first birthday, Kate took her granddaughters to Paris and bought them new wardrobes at Coco Chanel.

  At a small dinner party at Le Petit Bedouin, Eve and

  Alexandra met Count Alfred Marnier and his wife, the Countess Vivien. The count was a distinguished-looking man in his fifties, with iron-gray hair and the disciplined body of an athlete. His wife was a pleasant-looking woman with a reputation as an international hostess.

  Eve would have paid no particular attention to either of them, except for a remark she overheard someone make to the countess. "I envy you and Alfred. You're the happiest married couple I know. How many years have you been married? Twenty-five?"

  "It will be twenty-six next month," Alfred replied for her. "And I may be the only Frenchman in history who has never been unfaithful to his wife."

  Everyone laughed except Eve. During the rest of the dinner, she studied Count Maurier and his wife. Eve could not imagine what the count saw in that flabby, middle-aged woman with her crepey neck. Count Maurier had probably never known what real lovemaking was. That boast of his was stupid. Count Alfred Maurier was a challenge.

  The following day, Eve telephoned Maurier at his office. "This is Eve Blackwell. You probably don't remember me, but—"

  "How could I forget you, child? You are one of the beautiful granddaughters of my friend Kate."

  "I'm flattered that you remember, Count. Forgive me for disturbing you, but I was told you're an expert on wines. I'm planning a surprise dinner party for Grandmother." She gave a rueful little laugh. "I know what I want to serve, but I don't know a thing about wines. I wondered whether you'd be kind enough to advise me."