The Man Who Died Laughing

by David Handler

Day: Okay.

  Hoag: It’s about Lulu.

  Day: Lulu?

  Hoag: Yes. Remember the night the guesthouse burned down?

  Day: Of course.

  Hoag: Well, something very odd happened that night. See, it was the flames and the smoke that woke me up.

  Day: What’s so odd about that?

  Hoag: That it wasn’t Lulu who woke me. That she didn’t bark at Connie when Connie came in and set my papers on fire. I still can’t figure out why she didn’t bark.

  Day: She knew Mommy.

  Hoag: She knew Sonny, too. Saw him every, day. But she barked at him the night he came into my room drunk. She didn’t bark at you that night. When you came to me in Sonny’s bedroom. Remember?

  Day: I’ll never forget.

  Hoag: I suppose that’s because she’d slept with you before. When I was in Vegas. In the hospital. But Connie … Connie she didn’t know that well.

  Day: That is a little odd. But what do you expect—she is your dog.

  Hoag: Very, funny. I suppose there’s an explanation for the other things, too.

  Day: Other things?

  Hoag: Yes. Like how you were so dead set against Sonny’s doing this book at first. Then, after his death, you suddenly wanted me to finish it.

  Day: Because I love you. I told you.

  Hoag: That’s one way of looking at it.

  Day: There’s another?

  Hoag: Yes. That you wanted to steer me in a certain direction. After all, you are the one who fed me the story about Connie and Gabe. You are the one who assured me she’d want to have the truth come out. You’ve been steering me all along, haven’t you?

  Day: Yes. To the truth. Because of us, Hoagy. What are you … why are you saying all of this?

  Hoag: Because there are just too damned many odd little things, Wanda. Things that don’t add up. At first, I couldn’t put them together to mean anything. But then last night …

  Day: What happened last night?

  Hoag: I finally remembered something Sonny told me once about Gabe. It seemed a minor thing at the time, really. It wasn’t on the tapes. It wasn’t even going to end up in the damned book. That’s pretty amazing, if you think about it. I mean, if you think about how hard I worked to get at the truth. And about how it’s actually the key to the whole thing.

  Day: Hoagy, you’re not making sense.

  Hoag: The night Sonny and I spent in Vegas, he got me a hooker as a present. She was waiting there in my bed for me. A beautiful blonde.

  Day: Stop trying to make me jealous.

  Hoag: Naturally, I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t then. So I woke him up and told him I didn’t want her. He didn’t quite grasp what I was saying, since he didn’t know then about my condition. He thought I wanted someone else, someone different. He mentioned that lots of guys have … unusual tastes. Gabe, for instance, “Gabe used to go for little girls.” That’s what he said. Gabe liked little girls.

  Day: So?

  Hoag: So I didn’t recognize that at the time for what it was—a major slip of the tongue. It was late. He was tired. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said it. See, Gabe’s weakness for little girls is kind of important. Especially when you consider how deeply, how so deeply he resented the way Sonny got the applause and the glory. And how Sonny rubbed it in. And when you consider how Sonny’s own lovely little girl started to act kind of strangely. Withdraw. Grow more and more depressed. Display coldness toward her father. Pretty classic symptoms, wouldn’t you say?

  Day: Of what?

  Hoag: I’ve figured it out, Wanda.

  Day: Figured what out?

  Hoag: Stop it, damn it! Stop the movie. That wasn’t Connie up there on the bed with Gabe during the birthday party. You made that up, and Connie went along with it, as did Gabe. The truth is it was you up there with him. She was the one who tiptoed in from the bathroom. She found you and Gabe together. That’s why Gabe and Sonny fought in Chasen’s. That’s why they split up. That’s the secret everybody has been hiding all these years. There was never anything between Gabe and Connie. It was Gabe and you, and that night he finally got caught at it. He made a birthday toast—“To Sonny Day, the man who gave me everything.” I’ll say he did. Then they sang a duet—“their” song. Then Gabe went upstairs and molested his partner’s little girl. Just like he had been doing for years. That’s why Gabe and Sonny fought. That’s why you were hospitalized. And that’s why the real reason for their breakup has always stayed a secret. Sonny loved you. He couldn’t reveal it—it would destroy you. And Gabe would be ruined if it ever came out that he was a child rapist. So they made a pact of silence. Which Sonny had decided to break. Maybe. You stuck that photo on my pillow with the knife. You ripped up my tapes. You were hoping I’d get the message. Split. You were hoping he’d get the message. You sent him the death threat. It’s been you all along. Sonny was no stranger to your little tricks. He knew it was you. That’s why he never wanted to bring in the police. You didn’t go to Baja for his birthday. You were in town. You left him the dummy, the one you stole from his office years ago. That time you genuinely frightened him. He panicked. Fell off the wagon. Drove me away. It worked just like you hoped it would. What you hadn’t counted on was that he’d decide to tell me the truth—to save you.

  Day: Save me?

  Hoag: He cherished you more than anyone in the world, Wanda. He’d do anything to protect you. He told me that night on the phone that things had gotten out of hand, that the truth had to be told. He said the demons wouldn’t go away. To him, you were crying out for help. He was afraid for you. He wanted to help you. He decided the truth was the only way you’d get that help. You hadn’t figured on that. You hadn’t figured he’d beg me to come back, and that I would. You heard him talking to me in New York on the phone that night. You got the gun. You shot him. You got back in bed. You were there. Connie said you were out on a date—to cover for you. She knew you did it. Gabe knew it, too. He warned me I was getting in over my head. He tried to scare me off by making me think he did it. He even told me he sent Sonny the death threat. Gabe’s behavior yesterday puzzled me completely. First he was menacing. Then he was a lamb. That’s because I’d been fooled. He knew his secret was safe. What he didn’t know is that Connie had done herself in. Left a confession behind. Why did she do it? Was she afraid you’d tell the real story? Because we were lovers? Is that it? (silence) Wanda?

  Day: It wasn’t rape.

  Hoag: It wasn’t what?

  Day: I mean … at first it was. It started after we moved back from Connecticut, I was seven. He’d pick me up after school in his car. Everybody always thought he was playing golf. Or he’d come into my room when he and Victoria were visiting. He’d put his finger inside me and unzip his pants and force my face down into him. Make me suck him off. He told me if I said a word to anybody, they’d send me away to an insane asylum for life. And … and you’re right. He did it to get back at Daddy. Daddy drove him to it. It was his doing. If he hadn’t been so mean to him, so cruel, so rotten, Gabe wouldn’t have done it. Sonny Day fucked him. He fucked Sonny Day back. The best way he knew how.

  Hoag: That’s why you and Sonny always battled, isn’t it?

  Day: I hated him. At first, I hated Gabe, too. But after a while I didn’t. I was lonely. I looked forward to his attention. Our secret. I made him happy. I pleased him. And he was nice to me. He brushed my hair. He called me his little angel. I-I loved him. He was my hero. The hero of my movie. My white knight—he was even named for it. Only, I loved him the wrong way. Or that’s what they said. They said a little girl isn’t supposed to love a grown man that way. They said I was sick. So they locked me up. But it didn’t stop me. When they let me out, I still saw him. Until I moved to France and started acting. But I never stopped loving him. He was the only man who really cared about me. No one else ever has. Not Daddy. Not my husbands. Not anyone.

  Hoag: What about me?

  Day: I love you, Hoagy.

  Hoag: Then why
did you set my room on fire?

  Day: I-I wasn’t trying to kill you. I did it so you’d have to move into the big house with me. At least, part of me did. Oh, god, Hoagy. I’m freaking out again. I can’t tell what’s real … you were my new white knight. In my movie. Part of me wanted you that night, in Daddy’s bed. Only part of me was afraid for you, too. Afraid I’d hurt you. That part of me set the fire. … Shit, I can’t tell what’s real anymore. Shit! Daddy … Daddy, he wouldn’t listen to me. He didn’t love me. He wouldn’t keep my secret anymore. He was going to tell everyone about it. That was wrong. My secret. You don’t do that. Not my secret. So I stopped him. And I went to bed and pretended I’d been asleep. And no one knew. Except Mommy. And Heshie. And Gabe. They knew. But they keep my secret. They always keep my secret. So it’s okay. See, it’s okay. (silence) Do you love me, Hoagy? Like I love you? (silence) Hoagy?

  Hoag: What we had together, Wanda … I have to know. Was it real? Or were you just performing?

  Day: I love you. And you love me. I’m glad you know now. About my secret. I really am. It came between us. Nothing will now. Let’s go to Baja, Hoagy. Right now. Mommy’s funeral won’t be for days. We can swim naked and grill fish and drink tequila—

  Hoag: It sounds fabulous …

  Day: Great. I’ll get some things together. Be down in a minute.

  Hoag: … only, I think I’d better call Lieutenant Lamp first.

  Day: Lieutenant Lamp? Why?

  Hoag: Wanda, you’re a sick woman. You know it. You said so yourself. He’ll make sure you get help. You need help.

  Day: Do you love me? If you love me, you’ll keep my secret.

  Hoag: I can’t.

  Day: W-Why not? I don’t understand. You … you bastardYou don’t give a shit about me, do you?

  Hoag: I do love you, Wanda. Understand that. But I also cared about Sonny. I cared deeply. You killed him. You’re also to blame for your mother’s death. For this you have to be punished. I won’t protect you.

  Day: I don’t believe this.

  Hoag: I don’t believe in much myself. But I do believe this. I’m calling Lamp.

  Day: He won’t believe it. I’ll deny it.

  Hoag: He’ll believe it all right. I’ve taped this entire conversation—

  Day: You bastard! Motherfucker! Give me that tape!

  Hoag: No! Ouch! Let go! Stop that!

  Day: Give it to me! Give it to me or—

  Hoag: Or what?! You’ll kill me, too? Then who? Gabe? Harmon? It’s over, Wanda. It’s all over. Fade-out. The end.

  (end tape)

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ONLY IT WASN’T OVER yet. Not for her it wasn’t.

  She still had an escape scene in mind. As soon as I turned off the tape recorder, she dashed out of the study and up the stairs. A minute later she reappeared wearing a halter top, gym shorts, and sneakers, and carrying a nylon overnight bag and her car keys.

  I met her at the bottom of the steps.

  “Where are you going, Wanda?” I placed my hands on her shoulders.

  “Baja,” she replied coolly. “You can still come. The offer stands.”

  “Wanda, I can’t let you leave.”

  “If you try to stop me, it means you don’t love me. I don’t believe that, Hoagy. I believe in our love. Coming?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then good-bye, Hoagy.”

  She kissed me lightly on the mouth, then slipped past me and out the front door.

  “Wanda, I mean it!” I called after her.

  She was running now, running for her Alfa, which sat in the big circular driveway with its top down. She jumped in and started the engine.

  I had no car. There was no way I could stop her. No way at all. Until I glanced over to the lawn and spotted the javelin I’d been ’pooning with the other day.

  She started for the gate. I started for the spear. As the gate began to open, I took my running start and I fired. My form and extension were excellent, the arch and distance magnificent. So was my aim. The javelin speared her windshield dead center, shattering the glass on impact. The tires screeched and then the little Alfa careened off the driveway and into an orange tree.

  She flung open her door and started to scramble out, but there was nowhere for her to run to. The cops from the gate were already dashing toward her to see if she was okay.

  She slumped back down into her seat, defeated.

  Lulu was sitting on the front porch, clearly impressed. I’d told her many times before about my ’pooning prowess, but she’d never actually seen it for herself.

  “Everybody,” I explained, “ought to be good at something.” Then I went inside to call Lamp.

  It was a small, dark bar on Santa Monica Boulevard over near the freeway. Not far from where we’d just seen Connie Morgan buried. Lulu sat next to me in a booth toward the back, munching on a pretzel. Her flight carrier was in the trunk of Lamp’s car, along with my bags. Lamp sat across from us, helping me drink a pitcher of draft. Lamp didn’t look sixteen anymore. The Day family had aged him.

  There would be a trial. Being a witness, I’d have to come back for it. But I was free to go for now. Lamp had the tape I’d made of our final conversation. He had the truth. The press didn’t. He’d been ordered not to tell them. Wanda’s secret was going to remain Wanda’s secret. At least it was for now. Harmon had seen to that—with a few phone calls. “Don’t mess with the Heshman.”

  Yes, Wanda killed Sonny. Yes, Connie knew about it. That was why she confessed, why she took her own life. That much was public. But no one knew the real reason why. All they knew was that Wanda had been mentally disturbed, and that Connie had done what she did to protect her daughter from further pain. No one could condemn a mother for that. Especially America’s favorite mother.

  “It’s a strange thing sometimes, Hoagy,” Lamp said quietly.

  “What is?”

  “Justice. I mean, it will be served. A person committed a crime, and she’ll pay for it. Justice will be served. But, then again, it won’t be served at all.”

  “Nothing you can do to him, huh?”

  He shook his head. “Orders.”

  I filled his glass. “Give me a couple of months. I’ll take care of him. I’ll ruin him. You can count on it.”

  Lamp brightened. “You’re putting it in your book?”

  “Absolutely. People have always wondered why Knight and Day broke up. Now I can tell them. True story.”

  “What about your publisher? Aren’t they afraid of a lawsuit?”

  “Harmon’s trying to lean on them. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can’t lean on people who smell money.”

  We touched glasses. Lamp was grinning now.

  A couple of Mexican gardeners in T-shirts, jeans, and straw cowboy hats came in out of the bright sunlight, sat down at the bar, and ordered Coors.

  “By the way, Hoagy …” He reached into his suit pocket and yanked out a dog-eared paperback of Our Family Enterprise and inched it across the table at me. “Would you mind autographing it for me?”

  “It’d be a pleasure, Lamp.”

  I took out a pen and thought for a second. Then I wrote on the inside flap: “To Lieutenant Emil Lamp. Don’t ever change.” Then I signed it and pushed it back to him.

  He read it and blushed. “Aw, heck. Thanks, Hoagy. Thanks a lot. About … about Miss Day. I’m sorry. Seemed like a nice lady.”

  “She was. Also a crazy lady. But thanks.” I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “We got time for another pitcher?”

  “Why not?”

  “You sure you’re over the legal drinking age?”

  He winked at me. “They’re willing to serve me here as long as I don’t have more than two.”

  So I got us another one and we drained it while it was still cold.

  They’d just mowed the lawn in front of the Veterans Administration hospital. It smelled fresh and green outside. Inside, the building was modern and clean. I can�
�t say it was cheerful.

  It took me awhile to find him. I had to go through the nurse on the desk downstairs, and another one on the third floor. He shared a sunny ward with a dozen or so other Vietnam vets. Several of them were asleep. Three were playing cards. A couple more were listening to Sony Walkmans. Vic was sitting up in bed. There was a Sports Illustrated in his hands, only he wasn’t reading it. His eyes were glazed over. A dribble of saliva was coming out of the corner of his mouth. He was in la-la land. Tranked out. I waved a hand in front of his face. He didn’t blink.

  I wrote my name, address, and phone number on the back of a card and left it on his nightstand, in case he wanted to get hold of me. In case he ever could. Then I patted him on the shoulder and went back downstairs to Lamp’s car.

  It was finally spring in New York. The yushies were out in Riverside Park, jogging, bicycling, pushing their babies in their strollers. A few old beatniks were digging up the soil of the community flower garden. Two teenaged boys with pale faces and punk haircuts were tossing a baseball back and forth.

  Lulu and I took the path down to the Hudson Boat Basin. I sat down on a scarred bench that faced the river and looked out at the haze over New Jersey. Lulu curled up and went to sleep with her head on my foot.

  I thought about Sonny, and what he’d meant to me and how much I missed him. I thought about Wanda. The smell of her. Being inside of her. Alive again. I thought about Merilee. Maybe I’d send her a copy of the book when it came out. I’d like to think she’d want one.

  The sun fell behind the Jersey Palisades and the lights came on in the park. Time to go back to the typewriter. I stood up. Lulu roused and shook herself and steered me back to our apartment.

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