by Amy Gutman
should have some time later today.”
7
w
8
Carter Mills stared out the window. His skin felt hot, as though 9
he’d been struck with a sudden fever. He couldn’t seem to order his 10
thoughts. Words came together, then drifted apart. Mainly, they 11
were questions, the stunned beginning of questions that he didn’t 12
want to consider.
13
Behind him was the photograph. It lay on his desk, waiting.
14
Slowly, he turned back to face it. Just a single flimsy piece of paper, 15
slightly worn at the edges. There was nothing remarkable about 16
the image. Just an ordinary candid shot. A pretty woman on a 17
summer day. Perfectly ordinary. Perfectly generic.
18
Yet not to him.
19
He hadn’t thought of this scene for years. But now, with the pic-20
ture before him, it came back like it was yesterday. Downtown 21
Manhattan. Late August. A sultry summer evening. He’d left work 22
early, having just finished drafting a brief. Rounding a corner, he’d 23
caught sight of her, standing there on the doorstep. He’d called out 24
to her amid the neighborhood clamor, and she’d quickly spun 25
round to face him. Her face showed a blend of emotions, pleasure 26
mingled with chagrin. He was early that day, and she hadn’t had 27
time to prepare.
28
Still, she’d been happy when he snapped her picture. Happy, he 29
knew, because she’d seen it as a sign of love. A sign that even during 30
their brief separations, he wanted her close at hand. Yet, somehow, 31
he hadn’t felt guilty. Merely amused by the irony: what she saw as 32
a sign of devotion was really his first step away. Soon she’d belong 33
to the past.
ort 34
It had all come clear that afternoon. Though perhaps, at some reg 35
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 203
E Q U I V O C A L D E A T H
2 0 3
level, he’d known from the start. Decades had passed since that 1
day. But the memories were clear as glass.
2
“Very good.” William P. Sloan raised his leonine head and looked at 3
Mills appraisingly. “Very, very good.”
4
“Thank you, Mr. Sloan.” Mills felt a satisfying twist in his gut, like 5
the sprockets of a gear engaging, like a plane lifting into the sky. He ran 6
over the words in his mind. The great William P. Sloan liked his brief.
7
Life was suddenly good. The future was his for the taking.
8
With casual grace, Sloan folded his hands. Mills filed the gesture 9
away, knowing he’d adopt it as his own. “Your grandfather was one of 10
this firm’s founders. You show every sign of being a worthy heir. I cer-11
tainly hope that you’ll return to us after graduation.”
12
Again, the surge of triumph. Formal offers of employment were not 13
generally issued until summer’s end. And yet, here he was, being per-14
sonally wooed by the firm’s presiding partner. But he was careful to keep 15
his voice level, as if simply accepting his due.
16
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping,” he said.
17
Mills gazed at Sloan, so powerful, so complete. So different from his 18
hidebound father, the keeper of books, of records, of family trees. Noth-19
ing compared to the vital figure before him, a man of action who lived for 20
the day.
21
The sort of man he, Carter Mills, would become.
22
By the time he’d left work that day, his mind was already made 23
up. Childhood was over. He was an adult. And she had no place in 24
his life.
25
He’d purchased the camera and film on his way downtown. He’d 26
meant to buy color film, had been annoyed on discovering his mis-27
take. But the irritation quickly faded as she came into view. Focus-28
ing on the slender form, he’d felt a rush of power. As if the secret 29
knowledge that he would hurt her somehow confirmed his 30
strength.
31
And, really, she’d had no idea. She’d been giddy that evening, 32
euphoric. They’d split a bottle of wine. He’d even smiled as she’d 33
babbled about the future. A future that would never be. She loved 34 sh
35 re
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 204
2 0 4
A M Y G U T M A N
1
the theater, but she loved him more. She loved him more than any-2
thing. . . .
3
As, for a time, he’d loved her.
4
Loved her with a reckless passion that he hadn’t felt before or 5
since.
6
Mills shifted in his chair, remembering. It had begun as a chance 7
meeting, an instantaneous spark. He’d been on his way to a movie 8
when he’d seen her through the window of a small cafe. In an in-9
stant, he’d changed his plans. He went in and sat at a table, the 10
marble top cold to his touch. By the time he left two hours later, 11
her number was in his book.
12
But slowly that memory faded, and he was left with the picture 13
on his desk. He could feel the paranoia setting in, the sense of im-14
potent rage. It had to be someone who’d known her. A family 15
member or friend. Someone who knew what he’d done. But even 16
with the resources at his command, how could he find out who?
17
Secretaries, paralegals, word processors, librarians — any one of 18
them could be the culprit.
19
If only he could figure out the motive, that would be some kind 20
of start. But he still didn’t have a clue. If blackmail were the goal, 21
why not approach him directly? Why leave the picture on an asso-22
ciate’s desk, not even knowing that it would reach him?
23
Mills felt a sort of buzzing, a vibration beneath his skin. Of all 24
the human feelings, powerlessness was the one he hated most.
25
Well, if he didn’t yet have the answer, he could at least take care of 26
one thing.
27
From a table behind him, Mills picked up a granite ashtray. He 28
set it down on his desk. Then he took a pair of scissors from a 29
drawer. Neatly, methodically, he cut the photograph into long, 30
thin strips. Next, he stacked the strips together and cut them cross-31
wise again and again. Now, there were dozens of tiny squares.
32
Holding the ashtray alongside his desk, he swept the paper bits 33
into its hold. When he was finished, he returned the ashtray to his ort 34
desk. He pulled out a dark red book of matches with the logo of reg 35
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 205
E Q U I V O C A L D E A T H
2 0 5
Café des Artistes. A match scraped across the igniter strip, and a 1
yellow flame leapt up.
2
Mills stared at the flame for an instant, then dropped it down on 3
the
pile. But the match just lay there, smoldering, before silently 4
going out. Annoyed, he lit another match, held it to a shiny frag-5
ment. Again the tiny flare, followed by a puff of smoke. In quick 6
succession, he lit three more matches, tossed them into the ash-7
tray. One by one they hit the paper; in seconds all went dark.
8
It must be something in the photographic paper, some chemical 9
that wouldn’t light. Staring at the picture’s remains, he was con-10
scious of a growing rage. As if these pathetic scraps had intention-11
ally thwarted his will. He wanted to pick up the ashtray, to hurl it 12
across the room. He could almost hear the sound, the crash of 13
stone and wood. The ashtray gave up an acrid smell. He shoved it 14
across the desk. Then slowly, the anger subsided, and he was able 15
to think again. He found an envelope in his desk, and placed the 16
paper bits inside. Nothing to get upset about. He’d dispose of them 17
another way. Envelope in hand, he got up from his desk, on his way 18
to the restroom down the hall. Already, he was feeling better.
19
Everything would be just fine.
20
w
21
“I’m sorry, Ms. Paine. Mr. Mills has a full schedule today. I don’t 22
know what he was thinking. But you know —” Clara raised one 23
blue-veined hand in a gesture of philosophical acceptance.
24
“Are you sure? ” Kate was on the verge of tears.
25
Clara studied Kate’s face for several seconds, then let out a re-26
signed sigh. “Look, why don’t you tell me what it is? I’ll try to run 27
it by him.”
28
Kate shook her head helplessly. “It’s sort of confidential,” she 29
said. “But could you tell him it’s really important?”
30
31
32
Back in her office, Kate again tried to reach Andrea. Andrea’s sec-33
retary picked up the phone.
34 sh
35 re
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 206
2 0 6
A M Y G U T M A N
1
“She’s out today,” said Suzanne. Kate could hear stifled laughter 2
in the background.
3
“All day?”
4
“Yeah, she’s got the flu or something.”
5
Kate was surprised. Except for vacations, Andrea had never 6
missed a day of work. But then, except for yesterday, neither had she.
7
“She was out yesterday, too,” said Suzanne, as if just remember-8
ing this fact.
9
Kate felt her spirits lift. No wonder Andrea hadn’t called her.
10
Here she’d been feeling bad that Andrea hadn’t checked in, while 11
Andrea was home sick, too. And probably wondering why Kate 12
wasn’t calling her.
13
“So she’s at home?”
14
“Yeah. I guess.” Suzanne sounded as if she couldn’t care less.
15
“I’ll try her there, then. Thanks, Suzanne.”
16
But Andrea wasn’t at home. Or maybe she was just asleep. In 17
any case, she didn’t pick up. Disappointed, Kate left a message, 18
then turned back to her desk. It wasn’t as though she’d planned to 19
tell Andrea about Thorpe’s attack. At least not until she’d spoken 20
to Mills. But just the sound of Andrea’s voice would have cheered 21
her up, made her feel less alone.
22
So what now?
23
She could feel the tension in her body, running from her legs 24
through her neck. She scrunched up her shoulders and let them 25
drop, willing the stiffness to vanish. Then she had an idea. Why 26
not go to the gym? She’d been vowing to go for days, since that 27
night at the Harvard Club. Forty-five minutes of exercise would do 28
wonders for her mood. Just the thought of it cheered her up. In 29
minutes, she was out the door.
30
31
32
The locker room was sparsely populated with a motley assortment 33
of female body types. A massive woman in flowered cotton under-ort 34
pants leaned over to brush wet hair, folds of flesh bulging around reg 35
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 207
E Q U I V O C A L D E A T H
2 0 7
her waist, pendulous brown-nippled breasts swinging back and 1
forth with the movements of her arm. A girl with well-toned 2
biceps rubbed cream into her legs before examining her body in a 3
mirror. Turning from side to side, she frowned, as if deciding 4
whether to make a purchase.
5
Kate dumped her gym bag on a bench and fiddled with her com-6
bination lock. 26-16-24. It was easy to remember. Her age now.
7
Her age 10 years ago. Her age the year Michael left her. She peeled 8
off her office clothes, careful not to snag her stockings, and hung 9
them on a hook inside a locker. Then she pulled on black spandex 10
leggings and a blue-and-white Samson T-shirt. She closed the 11
locker, grabbed her Sony Walkman, and headed for the workout 12
floor.
13
The Mercury Athletic Club was colorful and brightly lit, the 14
adult version of a day care center. The whir of machinery blended 15
with a backdrop of seventies rock. Kate located a vacant Stairmas-16
ter and climbed on. After punching in her weight — 110 last time 17
she checked — she set the timer for thirty minutes, adjusted the 18
earphones on her Walkman, and started the climb to nowhere.
19
The club walls were covered with mirrors. Gazing at her reflec-20
tion, Kate was amazed by her body’s discretion. How calm and self-21
possessed she looked! Just another young professional opting for 22
fitness over food.
23
Nothing at all like she felt.
24
Still looking into the mirror, she scanned the room behind her.
25
In the sea of faces, she saw several colleagues: Jim Beller, a gangly 26
corporate associate, red-faced and sweating on a stationary bike. A 27
first-year female associate whose name she didn’t know, struggling 28
with a set of free weights. What would they say, these lunchtime 29
athletes, if they knew what she’d just been through?
30
She still couldn’t believe that Carter Mills had cut her off. She 31
should have waited to discuss the photograph until after she’d 32
dealt with Thorpe. Funny how the things you worried about were 33
never the things that went wrong. She’d been worried that Mills 34 sh
35 re
9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 208
2 0 8
A M Y G U T M A N
1
might not believe her. She’d been worried about staying com-2
posed. Not once had she worried that Mills wouldn’t hear her out.
3
But she’d come here to clear her mind. Glancing down at the 4
monitor, Kate punched up the speed
a few notches and tried to 5
concentrate on the rhythmic movements of her legs.
6
Madonna’s voice pulsed through Kate’s earphones. The song 7
was “Material Girl.” It was a classic eighties anthem, a song she’d 8
first heard as a kid. But now, listening to the words, Kate was sur-9
prised by a sharp jolt of envy. There was a picture of Madonna on 10
the cassette jacket, all garters, black fishnets, and danger. Kate felt 11
a sudden urge to be like that: tough, sexual, and well-defended.
12
Someone who could take care of herself. Someone who would 13
have stopped Chuck Thorpe.
14
Before she knew it, her mind flashed back to that first moment 15
in her office. There had been a window of opportunity there. A 16
moment when she could have torn loose. If she’d been stronger, if 17
she’d been someone else, she would have instantly moved into ac-18
tion. But instead, she’d frozen. And then it had been too late.
19
As the scene ran through her mind, Kate felt a sickly churning 20
in her stomach. Once, when she was very young, she’d gotten hold 21
of a box of laundry detergent. She’d decided to make a snowstorm, 22
to cover her room with white flakes. It had been a challenging task 23
for a tiny child, tilting the heavy box at just the right angle. And 24
then her father had appeared. She’d looked up at him, surprised 25
and proud. But the eyes that looked back were cold. In that instant 26
she’d felt the same confusion, the same roiling sense of isolation, 27
that she felt right now.
28
Kate tried to focus on the music, on the steady rhythmic beat.
29
But just as her thoughts were receding, she caught sight of someone 30
she knew. Scraggly black hair. Jutting breasts. There on a treadmill 31
was Linda Morris. Hit by a wave of dizziness, Kate quickly dropped 32
her eyes. She’d come here in an effort to escape Chuck Thorpe, at 33
least for an hour or so. Now she felt as if she’d been followed.
ort 34
Kate looked hard at her legs, willing herself to stay calm. Then reg 35
she glanced back at the mirror, studying Linda Morris’s reflected 9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 209
E Q U I V O C A L D E A T H
2 0 9
form. Except for the workout attire, she looked much as she had 1
before. The same heavy makeup, the same dark nails, the same 2
gold cross on a chain. Even from the distance, Kate detected mas-3
cara bleeding down her cheeks. She felt a rush of distaste. The 4
smeared makeup seemed to go to some deeper issue, to everything 5