The Girl in the Face of the Clock

by Charles Mathes

  He paused. Jane didn’t say anything. Eventually, Perry continued.

  “Ted Danko was Leila’s dinner partner that night and they really hit it off together. They began to see one another secretly. Ted and his wife Jill were having some personal problems then, and—I don’t know, these things happen. Of course, I didn’t find out about any of this until months later, when Ted came to talk with me. He was terribly distraught. It seems that Leila had told him she was pregnant with his child. She wanted money so she could get an abortion and start a new life somewhere where nobody knew her. Unless Ted paid her, she had threatened to tell his wife about their liaison.”

  “It sounds to me like they deserved one another,” said Jane. “Why did Danko come to you? Why didn’t he just pay her off?”

  “He couldn’t, or most certainly he would have,” said Mannerback with a sigh. “As it happened, Ted had made some disastrous personal investments right before this and was dangerously overextended, financially speaking. He had no liquidity at all. He’d gone through everything to raise money to cover his losses, even invaded a trust fund for one of their children. Ted was sure he’d be able to replace the money in a matter of weeks, but if his wife found out about Leila now, he’d be ruined. Jill would divorce him for certain, he said. Her lawyers would have had enough evidence to crucify him—she’d already caught him having other affairs. He could even go to jail. Jill would take back the kids with her to her family in California, and Ted probably would never be allowed to see them again. He couldn’t bear it. He was practically suicidal.”

  “Big tough Mr. Danko?” said Jane sarcastically.

  “Oh, you don’t know Ted. He’s really a very emotional fellow. He may be ambivalent about Jill, but he absolutely adores his kids and was at the end of his rope. He was literally in tears when he told me about this and asked my help. Ted’s an immensely proud fellow. For him to have come to me for help like this was remarkable—even now, years later, he’s still embarrassed about it and compensates by treating me in a very brusque manner. But I understand. At the time, I was very touched that he would turn to me. I’m ashamed to admit, however, that all I could think of was myself, my own interests.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jane, as a young mother pushed a sleeping infant by and seals barked in the distance.

  “Ted has been running the company for me since Dad died,” said Perry. “He’s a wonderful manager. He understands what’s called for and takes care of everything. When he came to me so upset, I was terrified of what might happen if his affair and financial manipulations were exposed. The stockholders would certainly demand his termination. Who would run the company then? I certainly couldn’t. The day-to-day business is a terrible bore, and you have to really know what you’re doing. Someone new might come in who’d wreck things, or make me spend lots of time doing all kinds of stuff I didn’t want. I was frightened. I didn’t want anything to change.”

  “So you helped him.”

  “Yes,” said Perry, nodding, looking miserable. “I helped Ted. I told him not to worry, that I would take care of everything. I met with Leila Peach. I arranged to give her some money—a few hundred thousand was all she wanted. She promised to get an abortion and leave New York.”

  “And you believed her?” asked Jane. “Why couldn’t she have just come back for more blackmail when she ran out of money?”

  “Yes, precisely,” said Perry. “Which was why I took the precaution of hiring a private investigator who procured affidavits detailing purchases of various controlled substances by Miss Peach. She had a drug problem and was involved with some rather unsavory people. At our meeting, I produced these affidavits, and I told her in no uncertain terms that if she attempted to make trouble for me or Mr. Danko in the future, I could and would have her sent to prison.”

  Jane stared at Perry with surprise. Apparently, he was more cunning than he let on.

  “I thought that I was being so smart,” he continued in a quiet voice. “I thought that I had handled everything so perfectly, but the next thing I knew your father appeared at my apartment, furious. It seems that he had just run into Leila at a restaurant and she had told him about her pregnancy, told him that the child was his and that she planned to have an abortion, which I was going to help her pay for.”

  “An abortion, of course,” said Jane, finally understanding. Those were Leila’s plans that Aaron Sailor had wanted to interfere with. It wasn’t surprising that Leila hadn’t told Suzy McCorkle that part of the story.

  “Aaron had tried to talk her out of it,” said Perry, “but she was furious at him for having ended their relationship shortly before this. That was just like Leila, apparently. She had had no problem cheating on Aaron with Ted Danko, but she absolutely couldn’t tolerate that he had broken it off with her and was seeing other women. This was how she was going to get back at him, by aborting this child—and doing it with my money.”

  “What a horrible woman,” said Jane.

  “‘Don’t do it, Perry,’ your father demanded. ‘Please don’t do it.’ He had been raised a Catholic, I gather, and the prospect of being party to an abortion absolutely horrified him. It was a mortal sin.”

  “But Dad wasn’t religious at all,” said Jane.

  “Maybe not, but certain beliefs have deep roots. So deep they defy what’s rational sometimes.”

  Perry shook his head and wrung his hands.

  “I tried to deny my involvement,” he went on in a cracking voice, “but Aaron wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t believe me. ‘I know the truth,’ he yelled, and called me a liar when I tried to contradict him. I told him that child was probably Danko’s, but he didn’t believe this, either. Of course, it didn’t matter to me who had been the father. Leila probably didn’t know herself. The bottom line was that the pregnancy was the lever she could use to destroy Ted unless I stopped her. ‘Don’t do it,’ your father pleaded.

  “But I did it. I made certain that Leila had her abortion, and I made certain that she left the country. I did it for myself, not Danko, not Leila Peach, and despite the very strong feelings that Aaron had on the subject. I wasn’t interested in anyone else’s problems, only my own. I didn’t even know that your father had had an accident. I just wanted to put the whole thing out of my mind. And I succeeded. I succeeded perfectly until you arrived to see me that day. Then it all came back.”

  “You felt guilty,” said Jane.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why you hired me. That’s why you moved Dad to Manhattan for tests.”

  “Yes,” said Perry. “I was just trying to do something decent after all this time, but somehow I’ve made a mess of it again. What am I going to do, Jane?”

  “Why did you go to Dad’s hospital room that night?” she asked. “Why did you fly back to New York?”

  Tears suddenly filled Perry Mannerback’s eyes and overflowed down his cheeks.

  “To apologize,” he whispered. “When that art dealer woman told me what Aaron had been saying, I was overwhelmed. Before that, it had all been at arm’s length somehow, theoretical. But to hear how he was still repeating our last argument, that this was what had frozen in his poor broken mind … I just couldn’t bear it. I felt so terrible. I knew I couldn’t make things right, but it wasn’t enough just to pay some doctors now. How was this any better than how I had behaved eight years ago? I had to tell your father I was sorry, personally, to his face.”

  “So you flew back.”

  “I sat by his bedside and talked for an hour. I know he was in a coma, but perhaps he heard me at some level. I don’t know. I hope he did. I pray he did.”

  “You didn’t talk to Leila when she came back to New York last week?”

  Perry shook his head vigorously.

  “No, I swear. Leila Peach wouldn’t dare call me. If she had, I would have had her put in jail, she knew that. But Leila must have needed money and might have thought she could get it from Ted. Perhaps she calculated that Ted would be too proud to show
weakness to me again, which is certainly right. Ted would have killed her in a minute before coming to me for help twice, and I’m afraid that’s exactly what happened. You see what a rat I am, Jane? All I can think about is myself. I’m still frightened that there will be nobody to run the company if the police arrest Ted.”

  “What if the police arrest you?”

  “It will almost be a relief,” said Perry. “I know that what I did somehow led to everything. If I hadn’t helped Leila procure an abortion without a care for who the father of her child was or what he might think about the matter, Aaron Sailor might be alive today.”

  “Did you push my father down the stairs, Perry?” Jane asked.

  “No.”

  “Did you inject him with insulin in his hospital room?”

  “Is that what they think?”

  “Yes. They know you’re a diabetic. Did you kill my father?”

  “No. I swear, Jane. I didn’t.”

  “Did you kill Leila Peach?”

  “I’m a terrible person, Jane,” said Perry. “I inherited all my wealth and never really did anything to help people but give them money. But I didn’t kill anyone. You believe me, don’t you?”

  He stared up at her with all the earnestness of a child.

  “Yes, Perry,” said Jane. “I do.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Tell the police everything.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

  “It’s the only way, Perry.”

  “They won’t believe me. The man who spoke with me …”

  “Lieutenant Folly.”

  “… he said terrible things, treated me like some kind of common criminal.”

  “Go to them, Perry.”

  “I have to think.”

  Jane stood.

  “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. You have to. I’m going home.”

  Sixteen

  Jane had walked down through Central Park to get to the Zoo, but returning home the same way was out of the question. All the adrenaline that had flushed into her system was long gone. She felt like a dishrag, barely able to lift her legs. At Sixty-eighth Street she managed to catch a cab going to the West Side.

  By the time the taxi pulled up in front of her brownstone, it was two-thirty. Nearly an hour had passed since she spoke with Folly. A white patrol car was double-parked in front with an impatient-looking cop at the wheel. Another impatient-looking cop was sitting on the front stoop. He stood up to meet her.

  “You Miss Sailor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice of you to join us. Where you been?”

  “I … I needed to calm down. I took a walk.”

  “In a taxicab?”

  “I walked farther than I had planned.”

  The cop grunted, then pulled out a notebook from his back pocket.

  “We need to get a statement about the events that transpired earlier in your apartment,” he said, clicking open a ballpoint pen.

  “Is the woman okay?” asked Jane.

  The cop made a face.

  “She woke up and clouted one of the paramedics,” he said with obvious distaste. “They had to give her a shot after we got her cuffed. Now she’s in Bellevue, being examined by somebody. Like they say: an unexamined life ain’t worth livin’.”

  Happy not to have killed Isidore Rosengolts’s granddaughter, Jane spent the next twenty minutes telling the cop what had happened. Then, beginning to ache in places she didn’t remember having, she called the locksmith.

  An hour and a half later Jane’s door could again be locked, though the only way the apartment would ever be secure again, the locksmith pronounced, was if she replaced the patched wooden doorframe with a new steel one.

  It was now nearly half past four. Jane was still on London time, and after the day she’d had, she was quite ready for bed. She opened the bottle of Chardonnay she kept at the bottom of the refrigerator for emergencies and poured herself a glass. After taking a single sip, she went into the bathroom, took off her clothes, and turned on the shower. She had just stepped in when the phone rang.

  The answering machine lay in pieces in the wastebasket, thanks to Melissa Rosengolts. Folly said he would call again. Cursing, Jane grabbed a towel and made her way to the telephone.

  “So, Janie, honey, sweetheart,” said Elinore King without further introduction, as if no one could possibly fail to recognize her voice. “I’m back. It’s so horrible about your father. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for the funeral, but Greg gave you my regards, didn’t he? I told him to give you my regards.”

  “What do you want, Elinore?” said Jane, dripping on the floor.

  “Okay, honey. So this is the thing. I know you were, like, upset and all when we talked on the plane, but that’s okay. I want you to know that I’m not mad at you or anything. I understand, and it’s okay now, because we’ve gotten some real offers.”

  Jane rolled her eyes.

  “Elinore, even if we had anything to talk about—which we don’t—this isn’t a good time.”

  “It’s always a good time to talk about money,” Elinore announced breezily. “You’re going to really love this, Janie, you really are. So you know the one with the lady’s crossed hands with the cantaloupe and the squirrel? Your father’s painting? Twenty-five thousand, and that’s just a small one. But get this—sixty-five, that’s sixty-five thousand dollars, for the couple. You know the one? With all the blue? The two women in the tree?”

  “What do I have to say to you, Elinore? How can I get through? I told you, I’m not going to sell my father’s paintings. I am going to donate them to museums. Period. End of story. Now I just stepped into the shower and I …”

  “I know what you said, Janie,” said Elinore with a smug little giggle, “but these are real offers. One is from a doctor who saw the show at the what-do-you-call-it museum. And I made contact with some very important collectors in Seattle; people up there have more money than God with the biotechnology and the computer stuff and all that. Now, wait, I haven’t told you about the third offer, and it’s really the best. A hundred and ten thousand for the diptych. A hundred and ten thousand. Net.”

  “No, Elinore,” said Jane. “No. Why is that so difficult for you to …?”

  “I don’t understand why you’re being like this,” said Elinore angrily. “I know you’re upset about your father and all, but his death was the best thing that ever happened to him, if you know what I mean, in terms of his value and all. You can’t turn this down. You can’t stop the momentum or you’ll never get it back, believe me, I know.”

  “Can’t you get it through your head that I don’t care?”

  “Oh, come on, Janie, don’t be an ass,” said Elinore, her voice turning ugly. “You care plenty. You’re just still angry that I talked to Perry on the plane. I don’t understand why you would want to keep me away from him. He’s my client, you know. I knew him a long time before you did.”

  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” said Jane wearily. “I swear to God, Elinore, you are the most greedy, egomaniacal …”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said …”

  “How dare you say that to me? How dare you?”

  “I’ll say what I please, you selfish …”

  The receiver slammed down at the other end with such a bang that it hurt Jane’s ear. She was halfway back to the bathroom when the phone rang again.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “I’m sorry, Janie,” said Elinore in a tearful, abashed voice. “I’m sorry for hanging up on you like that. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Sometimes, though, you just make me so mad …”

  “I’m sorry, too, Elinore,” said Jane. “But you …”

  “No, let me finish. I know I come on a little strong, a little aggressive. But you have to be aggressive in this business. And me being a woman and all that. You can’t know what it’s like, you just can’t.”

  “Elinore—”
<
br />   “I’m just doing it for you, you know, honey,” said Elinore, her voice brightening. “Do you know what your share is going to be if we can sell just these three paintings? A hundred thousand dollars. See? I’ve kept up my end of the bargain. I’m giving you fifty percent, just like I said. Now don’t tell me you can’t use a hundred thousand dollars. And that’s just for starters.”

  “I don’t want it, Elinore. This isn’t what I want. This is what you want.”

  “Of course I want the money,” said Elinore impatiently. “It’s only fair after all the work I’ve done. But I’m trying to tell you that there are other things at stake here, more important things. There’s a principle at stake here.”

  “What principle is that?” asked Jane.

  “Loyalty, for one thing. I never gave up on your father and I don’t intend to now.”

  “My father’s dead.”

  “That’s beside the point,” shrieked Elinore. “If I let artists just walk away after all the work I do, even when they’re dead, where would I be? You can’t just decide all on your own that you don’t want to do this any more, now when it’s finally beginning to pay off. Aaron wouldn’t have wanted you to treat me like this, believe me. Loyalty cuts both ways, you know. Look, I might as well tell you the truth. The fact is that Aaron and I were more than just friends. He was in love with me, if you want to know.”

  Jane shook her head in disbelief. The woman was unbelievable.

  “I sweat blood for that man,” Elinore ranted on. “No, let me finish. If it wasn’t for me, your father would be nothing, nothing. And there wouldn’t be any of this interest now in your father if I hadn’t gotten that article into the Times. I gave them the whole story.”

  “That’s right, Elinore,” said Jane, unable to contain any longer what was really bothering her. “And because of that stupid article, because of the photos you gave them, people are dead.”