Deadly Deception

by Gilbert, Morris

  “No, Daddy.”

  “He told me that if a father ever makes a promise to one of his children, he has to keep it—no matter what!”

  “Did he really say that?”

  “Yes—and you know what? He’s right! So if you won’t be mad at me, I’d like to come along to the circus with you. Is that all right?”

  “Oh, Daddy!” Rachel leaped up and made a grab at her father. Lanza caught her and picked her up, and she pressed her face against his chest. Lanza thought how long it had been since he had picked her up and felt amazed at how thin and light she was. He looked at Dani and cleared his throat. “As long as you’re all here, I might as well just tell you all. I felt very bad when Pop showed me how wrong it was to break a promise. He told me to say I’m sorry—so, I’m saying it—to all of you.”

  Dani had been prepared for the worst, and when Frank’s eyes met hers, after the speech that must have cost him a great deal, tears stung her eyes. She managed a smile, then commented, “Not many fathers would do what yours has just done, Rachel. I think we’ll all have to be very nice to him, to show how we appreciate it.”

  Lanza gave Rachel a hug, set her down, then walked toward the door, calling out, “Bring on the elephants! I’ll tell Ben we’ll need the van for this bunch!”

  “What’d you do to him, Dani?” Abby asked in awe. “I didn’t know anyone could make Frank do a thing like that!”

  “Oh, I didn’t make him do it, Abby,” Dani protested. “I think deep down he’s wanted to do something like that for a long time.”

  Abby shook her head in disbelief. “How much do you charge for teaching how to make a man do what you want him to? I’d pay big bucks for that!”

  Dani thought, I wish it were as easy to make a dent in Ben Savage! But she only warned, “It’s pretty dangerous to try to change people, Abby. I don’t much like to do it.”

  * * *

  “You all go get in the van,” Frank poked his head into the den and yelled over the sound of the stereo. “We’ll be right there.” He ran upstairs, amused at his own excitement about going to a circus, and entered the bedroom calling out, “You ready, Rosemary?” He pulled off his coat, slipped out of his slacks, and changed quickly into a pair of Dockers and a cotton shirt. Slipping his feet into a pair of loafers, he yelled, “Rosemary! Let’s go!”

  He yanked a jacket from a hanger and was putting it on hurriedly, when the bathroom door opened and Rosemary came out. Frank stopped, one arm in the jacket, and stared at her.

  Rosemary was wearing a bathrobe, and when she spoke, her voice was slurred. “Be—a few minutes, Honey.”

  She was so drunk, he saw, that she could barely walk. He stood there, filled with the hopeless feeling that always washed across him at times like these. He pulled on his coat slowly and walked over to her. Pulling her around to face him, he demanded harshly, “Did you have to get drunk today? Couldn’t you at least have made it through Rachel’s party?”

  “I—only had a little, Frank—” Rosemary’s lips trembled, and she tried to pull away. “It won’t take but a minute—”

  “You can’t go like that, Rosemary!” Frank released her arm and suddenly could not bear the sight of her. She saw it in his face and began to tremble.

  “Sorry!” she gasped. “So sorry!”

  He stared at her and finally repeated the question he had asked many times before, “Why do you do it, Rosemary? You have everything! I don’t understand it.”

  She wanted to tell him about the fear, black as midnight and thick as a wall, that closed around her, but the words would not come. Many times she had wanted to cry out for him to love her as he once had, but she always saw the disgust in his face. Now he would leave her, she knew, and the fear began to rise like a tide. She gripped his lapel, pleading, “Don’t—leave me—please!”

  Frank shook her hand off, stating bitterly, “What difference does it make if I’m here or not? You’ll be dead to the world in half an hour.” He turned and left the room, and by the time he got to the van he had control enough to announce, “Your mother’s sick, Rachel. She won’t be able to go with us.” He knew from the look on her face—and every other face—that he was not deceiving them. How long before even Pat knows his mother is a drunk? he wondered. But he urged, “Well, let’s go to the circus!”

  When Frank threw himself into something, it was with all he had. As soon as Ben got to the city limits of Baton Rouge, he ordered, “Stop at that McDonald’s on Seigen, Ben.” When they unloaded and went inside, Rachel was enthralled to find a section set off, with a sign saying, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RACHEL! and balloons everywhere. “Don’t eat too much, now,” Frank warned. “You’ll all want peanuts and hot dogs at the circus!”

  The circus itself was in the Centroplex, a large auditorium situated on the west side of Baton Rouge, close to the Mississippi River. Frank had tickets, center section, and soon they were all watching the acts.

  Frank enjoyed some of the acts, but most of the time he watched Rachel’s face. She was sitting next to him, pointing out all the exciting things. She was, he noted, too thin and had a complexion problem. Why hasn’t someone taken her to a doctor to get that cleared up? he wondered. Why haven’t I done it myself? Once he looked at Dani, seated on the other side of Rachel, and she gave him a conspiratorial smile. “This is nice, Frank!” she said, and her words had given him an unreasonable pleasure.

  They took it all in, and Rachel loved every minute— especially the high trapeze act—the Flying Rudolphos. She had squealed and hidden her eyes, but looked back as the fliers defied gravity. When it was over, Ben came to ask, “Would you like to meet the Flying Rudolphos, Rachel?”

  Rachel stared at him, her mouth an O. “Could I, Ben?”

  “Sure.” He smiled and looked at the others. “Come along.”

  “Will it be all right, Ben?” Frank asked.

  “Why not? They’re my parents.”

  Dani’s head shot up instantly, and she thought at once of the time when he had told her of his early life, during their imprisonment by Maxwell Stone. She had not known Ben well, but she had always sensed that some tragedy had made him raise the wall he kept between himself and people. Finally he had told her how he had been reared by a circus couple who had made an aerialist out of him. He had fallen hopelessly in love with a girl named Florrie—one of the fliers. But there had been an accident during a performance. Ben had gone crashing into Hugo and Florrie. They had all fallen, and Hugo had been fatally injured. Guilt had ended Ben’s circus career.

  Dani said nothing, but held tightly to Pat’s hand as Ben led them to the net. Almost at once, he called out, “Hey, you going to wait all night to check these traps?”

  “Ben!” A man and a woman wearing robes to cover their spangled tights rushed forward, and Ben was swallowed by their embraces.

  “Take it easy!” he protested, finally pulling free. He looked them over and noted, “You look fine, both of you.”

  “Ben,” the man cried, “it’s so good to see you! He looks good, doesn’t he, Anna?”

  “He’s too skinny,” Anna Rudolpho objected. “We will put some meat on your bones! Come to the trailer.”

  “Mom, I can’t tonight. When you get to New Orleans next month, I swear you’ll be sick of the sight of me!” Ben warned. “But I have someone who wants to meet you— great fan of yours. This is Rachel, and it’s her birthday. Rachel, Tony and Anna Rudolpho.”

  “Ah, what a lovely little lady!” Tony smiled and took her hand. “Did you enjoy the performance, Rachel?”

  “Oh, it was wonderful!”

  Anna reached down and hugged the girl. “That is nice to hear, Rachel—but you have not seen the best of the Flying Rudolphos.”

  “I haven’t?” Rachel asked.

  “No!” Anna pointed at Ben. “You should see this one! Oh, then you would see something!”

  “Cut it out, Mom,” Ben protested as the visitors stared at him.

  “You used to do that!” Frank excla
imed, looking up at the trapeze bar high above. Then he looked at Savage with a new interest.

  “Did he do it?” Tony asked with some indignation. “He did a triple! That’s what he did! Oh, Ben, come back and do it again!”

  “Too old and stiff, Tony,” Ben protested with a laugh. “Maybe Rachel would be willing to go with you. She’s just about the age I was when you took me in.”

  There was a great deal of talk, but finally it was time to go. “You call me as soon as you get to New Orleans,” Ben ordered.

  Then Anna asked, “Ben, have you heard from Florrie?”

  Abby happened to be looking directly at Savage as the woman asked the question, and she didn’t miss the expression that swept over his face. He masked it at once, saying tonelessly, “No, Anna.”

  “I’m afraid for her, Ben,” Anna said. Then she saw that he was embarrassed. “We’ll talk when we get to New Orleans.”

  They left, and as they headed toward the van, Abby kept close to Dani. “Did you see that look on Ben’s face when the woman asked about that girl—what was her name?”

  “Florrie.”

  “Yes. Boy, that answers a question for me!” Abby shook her head, adding, “I’ve been worried about myself, Dani. I’ve thrown myself at Ben, and he’s been like a stone wall. Now I know why. He’s in love with that Florrie, that’s what his problem is.”

  Dani didn’t answer. She had seen Ben’s face and was shocked to see how the name had affected him. I thought he was over that long ago, she thought. She wanted to discover the truth, but knew she could never ask such a question. As they drove back to New Orleans, she kept glancing at Ben, wondering what was going on inside his head.

  Ben let them out with a “Good night—and happy birthday, Rachel,” then drove the van away.

  “I guess these kids are ready for bed,” Frank decided. A howl of protest arose from Matt and Rachel. Pat lay sound asleep in Dani’s arms. Frank reached out and took the boy, saying, “No arguments!”

  They mounted the stairs, and Abby went to her room at once. “Matt, you and Rachel get ready for bed. I’ll come in and say good night,” Frank directed. He carried Pat to his room and watched as Dani undressed him and put his pajamas on him. When that was done, Frank offered, “I’ll put him in bed.” He picked up the sleepy child and laid him on the bed.

  “Dani—” Pat mumbled in a sleep-drugged voice. “Say my prayer!”

  Dani came to the bed, leaned over, and put her hand on Pat’s head. “Lord, give Pat a good night’s sleep. Let your angels protect him and keep him safe in the name of Jesus.”

  Pat muttered, “And bless Mommy and Daddy and Rachel and Matt. And Dani, too.”

  “You do that every night?” Frank asked as they stepped outside the room.

  “Oh, yes.” Dani nodded. “Now for Matt.” She led the way to his room and found he was sitting on the side of the bed. “Have a good time, Son?” Frank asked.

  “Yes. It was fun.”

  Frank tried to find something to say. He was not at ease and finally suggested, “Maybe you and I could knock a tennis ball around some day, all right?”

  “Sure!” Matt’s eyes lit up, and he proposed, “How about tomorrow?”

  “Maybe so.” Frank nodded. “Now go to sleep.”

  When they were on their way to Rachel’s room, Dani hesitated. “Tell her how pretty she looks—and tell her you love her.”

  Frank looked uncomfortable. “Well, we’re not too demonstrative, Dani—but I’ll try.” He went in, and Dani stood back. Rachel looked at her father with an odd expression. Dani guessed that Frank had not been in her room very often. She was aware that Lanza was stiff and awkward, but he uttered, “I enjoyed being with you. It was fun.” He glanced at Dani, adding hastily, “You looked so pretty in your new dress—all grown up!”

  “Did I really?”

  “Sure you did.” Then he put his hand on her head and blurted out, “Happy birthday—and—I love you very much.”

  Rachel’s face tensed; then he put his arms out, and she buried her face against him. “It was—the best day of my whole life!” she declared, her voice muffled. “I love you, too, Daddy!”

  Dani stepped out, and soon Frank joined her. She said nothing as they walked to the stairs, but when they got there, he offered in a strained voice, “Dani—thanks.”

  He said nothing else, but she knew what he meant. “I was so proud of you, Frank,” she answered quietly. Then she grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’d like to have heard what your father said to you!”

  “I’m glad you didn’t!” Frank managed a smile, then went on, “Well, I guess it’s late. Good night.”

  Dani said, “Good night, Frank. I’m not going to bed, but thank you for a wonderful time.”

  He looked at her, then questioned, “Staying up for a while?”

  “Oh, just to watch an old movie.” She shrugged.

  “What movie is that?”

  “I’m a Dickens freak,” she admitted ruefully. “There’s an old film version of one of his books on at eleven. I’ll hate myself in the morning, at six!”

  “Mind if I watch a little of it?”

  “It’s your set,” Dani commented. “You won’t like it. Dickens is an acquired taste—like olives and snails.”

  “You can explain it to me,” Frank suggested.

  They went into the den, and Dani found the channel. Frank asked, “What’s the name of it?”

  “Great Expectations. It’s about a young boy who wants to get rich so he can marry a rich girl he’s fallen in love with,” Dani explained.

  “Sounds like a good idea.” Frank grinned. “Does he make it?”

  “I won’t tell. Watch and find out.”

  They sat there, watching the black-and-white film flicker on the screen. Soon Dani became totally involved in the drama of Pip and his hopeless love for the beautiful Estella, with the mad Miss Haversham and her black beetles under the decaying wedding cake, with Magwitch and Jaggers and all the rest.

  During an intermission, Dani made popcorn and fixed iced Cokes. They sat on in the murky darkness, watching the rest of the movie. At the point where Magwitch died, Dani pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the tears away. “I always cry when Magwitch dies,” she whispered to Frank.

  When it was over, they sat silently. Finally Frank asked, “I don’t get it, Dani. It’s not real—just a story. Why cry over that, when there are so many real things to feel bad about?”

  “That’s what drama does—at least for me,” she told him. The spell of the performance was still on her. She put her head back on the couch, closed her eyes, and finally described her thoughts. “I know Magwitch isn’t real—but when I see him dying, it reminds me that we all must die sooner or later. And he died happy, after all his suffering. That always gives me great joy.” She opened her eyes and moved her body around so that she could face him. “I’m just a mutt, Frank.” She smiled. “Crying like a baby.”

  Frank studied her, then shook his head. “I don’t know anything about drama or art, but it made me sad, too, when the guy died.” He hesitated, then nodded, adding briefly, “It made me think of Pop.”

  He appeared much like a little boy who was hurt—like Pat—Dani thought. She suddenly put her hand on his. “I know. I thought of that, too.”

  He felt the warmth of her hand. “This is—it’s like we— well, like we were an old married couple, isn’t it?”

  Then he raised his head and pulled her into his arms. Dani was taken by surprise, and when he kissed her, she did not protest. Once he pulled his lips from hers, she drew back. “That was my fault, Frank,” she remarked gently. “We can pretend it didn’t happen.” Quickly she got to her feet. “It’s been a wonderful time, hasn’t it? But—you have a wife, Frank. And I’m praying that someday you two will be together—as you should be.”

  Frank stood up, his face a mask. He had been shocked by the feelings that raced through him at the touch of her lips. “She’s not a
wife,” he accused bitterly. “Hasn’t been for a long time!”

  “Do you love her, Frank?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I did once.”

  Dani stared at him, then replied, “Real love never changes.”

  “You don’t really believe that!”

  “Yes—I really do.” Dani knew it was time to bring the thing to a halt. “Good night, Frank.” She moved, but stopped at the door, turning to continue, “Yes, I really do believe it. If it’s real love, it never changes.” Then she was gone, leaving him alone in the room.

  9

  Vince

  * * *

  Dominic called a meeting for Sunday morning at nine o’clock. At that hour Max Darrow sat at the long walnut table in the large room used for such affairs, wondering if his father-in-law had selected that time just to be difficult. Not that it worked any hardship on Darrow himself, or his wife, Helen, for neither of them went to church—but for that matter neither did any of the others sitting at the table.

  Darrow shifted nervously as his wife spoke in her high-pitched, rather shrill voice, and he wished she had not chosen to attend the meeting. Helen must have been softer spoken when she was younger, Darrow thought, but over the years as her weight had edged upward, her voice had risen as well. He looked across the long walnut table to where Frank and Eddy sat, then shifted his gaze to Dominic, who was attentively listening to his daughter.

  More attentively than he listens to me, Max thought bitterly.

  But it had been like that ever since he had married Helen. She had been rather pretty in those days, smart even then—as smart as Dom, some said and others added snidely, And as mean as Phil! He had been a penniless young lawyer, at the head of his class, but with no connections. When Helen Lanza had chosen him over a dozen other candidates, no one had been more surprised than Max Darrow himself.

  But his visions of rising in the Lanza empire had faded quickly, and within a year, he had been relegated a glorified errand boy. Helen had made it clear that their sons would take over the empire in the future. When they had discovered that there would be no sons, Helen had grown harder. Often Darrow had wondered what she would have done, if it had been he instead of she who proved totally infertile. She’d have had me out of the way in a minute, he had told himself.