Her eyes slid easily across the horizon and then back to mine. She murmured silkily, “He is rather complicated, isn’t he? But that’s what makes a man interesting. He’s so casual, so maddeningly nonchalant — ”
I interrupted. “Now you seem to be the one who doesn’t know him. He isn’t that way at all. When we were first married, I will admit, he seemed that way, but there’s nothing spontaneous about him any more.”
One of those enraging Mona Lisa smiles played about her features for a moment. “Perhaps,” she suggested, on a questioning note, “he’s not very happy.”
“That’s true. Men are small boys, really. Whenever they become accidentally involved in some tawdry affair they start acting like lost souls, as if the whole world has turned against them.”
Our claws were no longer sheathed, but Vivien was at a disadvantage. Any reply she could make would cheapen her. Her anger was a livid flame in her eyes, but she remained silent, choosing to ignore my remarks. Which was not a bad technique. Silence can often carry more weight than words. I was the one who began to feel cheap, deservedly perhaps, so I attempted to change the subject.
Vivien, however, had been aroused and paid no attention while I talked about something of small importance. She waited for a decent interval, then brought the subject back to Jeffrey. She chose her words carefully as she said, “I’ve been wondering about Jeff lately. You see, all the years I’ve known him he’s been a very alive person. He was the most sought-after man on the Peninsula. His vitality was boundless. You simply could not give a successful party around here unless you had Jeff present. No matter how dull the evening might be, when Jeff walked in the atmosphere always changed for the better. But now,” she pouted, “he’s just another guest holding another highball. It’s really a shame.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Isn’t it?”
She blinked at me with round eyes, as if we girls had just made a very pleasant discovery. “Oh, you agree. I didn’t think you would.”
“Why not? Jeff has changed. I haven’t known him as long as you, or as well, but even I have noticed that. He’s not at all as he was in New York.”
“Or before he left here,” she added. “How do you account for it?”
She had reduced the situation to the simple triangle and, though I did know it was not that simple, I had to go along on her terms. I said, “Well, maybe it’s just a guilt complex, with a touch of remorse and considerable irritation.”
“Irritation?”
“Yes. You know, small boy steals apple and then finds a worm in it. He punishes himself for the theft and then is annoyed because he hasn’t enjoyed it.”
I thought she would slap me. Her body tensed. The color drained from her face and then flooded back in a mad wave. Her voice was shaking, but she had it under sufficient control to say, “I don’t agree with that at all. I would say that the small boy wandered off to what he thought was greener pasture only to step into a bear trap.”
“At least we understand each other. Don’t we?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come now, we aren’t children, Vivien. I know you’re in love with Jeff, or you think you are. Evidently you couldn’t make headway with John, so you tried the other Hamlyne for size.”
She smiled. “What do you think of the fit?”
“I happen to know you’re shopping in the wrong store.”
“Indeed? I suppose you think he’s in love with you? Well, let me tell you, darling, a few weeks after he returned from New York he came over to my house and poured his heart out. I have never felt so sorry for a person in my life.”
She paused to take a deep breath and then continued with a rush of words, “I haven’t wanted to tell you about it, but now your unwarranted allegations have forced me to. Jeff knew he had made a mistake the day after he married you. Why do you think he was in such a hurry to get away and get home?”
“He told you that?”
“And more. You’ve been walking around here clothed in your own brand of virtue and hinting that I’m a tramp, so now you can have a little of your own medicine. For a week or so Jeff tried to pretend that everything was just fine, probably because John was so happy about the marriage, but he couldn’t keep it up. He had to tell John the same time he told me. Then the two of them were really in a mess. Under the community-property laws of California you could raise the very devil with the Hamlyne fortune. So they decided to try stalling you.”
It was so obvious that at least a portion of what she had to say was true that I felt faint. I put a hand on the pommel of Queenie’s saddle to steady myself. I whispered, “Interesting, if true.”
“You know it’s true.” She laughed. “You know exactly how true it is. The only reason you’ve come out here is to have a look around and find out just how many millions you can carve out of the Hamlynes. Everyone in Pebble Beach has guessed that. Jeff has always been able to take his liquor or leave it alone, but during the past months he’s made a public display of himself in the bars. It didn’t take any deep thinking to know that something was all wet with his marriage. And you,” she sneered, “have the unmitigated gall to look down your nose at me!”
I felt so dizzy that I could not focus my eyes. She was just a vague blur directly before me, her hands on her hips and her head thrown back.
She knew, or sensed, that I was momentarily helpless, incapable of thought or speech. She pressed her advantage, as I suppose I would have, too, in her shoes. “If you had any decency about you,” she cried, “you’d get out now, before his brain really snaps.”
Until that moment I was like a punch-drunk fighter going down from the weight of too many blows, but her last words acted on my mind like smelling salts. Reality flooded back with returning strength and, though it was dim, I could see the key piece to the puzzle swimming into view.
I said, “You can’t really believe I’m responsible for his peculiar mental state.”
“Why not? What else could cause it?”
“John.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I noticed Jeff acting oddly some time ago and questioned him about it. He admitted that he was having terrible headaches and occasional lapses of memory. What worried me more, though, was the way his perspective was changing. You wouldn’t know, or care, of course, but Jeff is an extremely sensitive person. He doesn’t react like ordinary men. This situation is practically destroying him. He admitted it.”
“When?”
“Why, it was just the other — ” Then she paused and her mouth closed and her eyes narrowed. She had just realized that she had been doing all of the talking and that I was no longer clinging to Queenie’s saddle. It was also apparent to her that the conversation was swinging away from personal invective and might become even more informative. Her anger cooled and the faint smile returned to her lips.
She turned away from me, adjusted a stirrup, and stepped into her saddle. It was done beautifully, without effort. I feel awkward getting into a saddle, and probably look it, but not Vivien. With her it was a swing of the leg, the illusion of floating through space, and there she was. She was suddenly as much a part of the horse as his mane.
She looked at me with a smile. “I’ve enjoyed this,” she said, “so much. We must get together again — sometime.” She wiggled her gloved fingers at me in a silly wave.
“Good-by.” Her heels dug into the horse and he shied sideways, but without disturbing Vivien’s poise, then took off like a thoroughbred released from the barrier. She rode the animal in the same fashion she had mounted him, gracefully and beautifully. I sighed with reluctant admiration.
I rode Queenie back through the dunes and up the slope to the Lynecrest ranch. As I headed toward the corrals I saw Luke Dodd seated on a fence, his insolent eyes regarding my approach. Standing on the ground, his head turned toward Luke, was Jeffrey or John. I was preoccupied with other matters and so did not pay attention, but I thought it was Jeffrey, as he was on my mind.
I swun
g down to the ground and turned about and he was smiling and put an arm about me. His face was closer and it was only natural for him to kiss me and my hands were on his shoulders and I thought it was Jeffrey. When he stepped back I noticed the business suit and it was John.
My hands slid from his shoulders and I stared at him. Even thinking it was Jeffrey, why had I been so passive? The answer to that was not far from the surface of my mind. Jeffrey was in trouble, serious trouble, and it had nothing whatever to do with Vivien.
I walked with John toward his car, but did not feel the need of conversation. I had too much to think about.
Chapter Eight
JOHN DROVE SLOWLY toward Lynecrest. He was in a relaxed mood, but I felt as if I had fallen into an abyss. There was no bottom to the black whirlpool and even the motion of the car added a circular impetus to my newfound fears. I was hardly conscious of leaving the car and walking into the great hall, or even of John at my side talking pleasantly about something connected with business. But I knew what was wrong.
Brannen said that there had been no calls, so Sam had not arrived. I went up the stairs with John and appraised him from the corners of my eyes. He was wearing a gay tie with a dark shirt, but still managed to look businesslike. He was lost in thought at the moment, but he did not look as tired as he had been in the morning. In fact, he seemed refreshed. Even the lines in his face had softened and I thought I detected gleams of amusement, or deep satisfaction, in his eyes.
I commented on his appearance and he chuckled. “A good stroke of business picks me up like a shot in the arm. Prices are holding well all over and this season’s crops are superb.” He tugged at an ear lobe, then said, “I just started a deal today to buy out packing sheds up and down the Pacific Coast. Jeff is going to be sore as the devil.”
“Why?”
“Well, this one involves about a half-million dollars. I can handle it with his power of attorney, but he has to take some of the responsibility. He has to get in and pitch a little, too. That he won’t like.”
We paused on the landing and he glanced at me nervously, with a suggestion of shyness about his eyes. He said, “You can be a big help to me.”
“Anything I can do, John — ”
“Sure. You married the wrong man, Carol. You’re my kind.” He grinned boyishly to lessen the serious tone of his words, then said, “Anyway, you can help. Jeff is avoiding me altogether too much. This morning I tried to apologize to him for — well, various matters, but got nowhere. Have you talked to him about — you know, the way I feel?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about much of anything. He pops in and out as he pleases. I hardly see him.”
“That’s too bad. I’ve been kind of pinning my hope on your bringing us together again.”
“I don’t see how I could do that when I haven’t the faintest idea what came between you in the first place.”
He said quickly, “It isn’t necessary to know all about it. Tonight, though, I wish you’d do me a favor. Let’s the three of us have dinner together. I don’t think Jeff will mind that. But when we finish dinner I’m going to pin him down on this new deal. That’s where he may walk out. So will you make an effort to see that he doesn’t? This thing is really important.”
“Of course, John. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” He was silent for a moment, then he smiled and patted my arm. “I’m boring you. What do you care about business? Hurry and change and I’ll meet you in the library for Martinis. I could use a few quick ones.”
He turned away toward his rooms and I walked down the hall to my apartment. I had just stepped inside when Ann called that Jeffrey wanted me on the telephone. I hurried to the phone and said, “Yes, Jeff?”
“Carol?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, good. Ann was just saying that you weren’t in.”
“I came in just this minute. I’ve been out riding. Where are you?”
“Soledad.”
“Where is that?”
“Oh, it’s on the main highway about twenty-five miles south of Salinas.”
“Why are you over there? I thought you were going to play golf.”
“I did. Matter of fact, I was three below par today. You know me, the boasting type.”
“Then what are you doing in Sole-something?”
“Soledad. Friend of mine over here borrowed an automatic Browning of mine a couple of months ago. I just thought I’d drive over and pick it up. He’s persuaded me to stay and knock over some quail. He claims he knows a spot near King City where they’re as thick as flies.”
“I love quail.”
“You do?” He sounded eager. “Good. I’ll bring home enough for dinner tomorrow night. But look; I may stay overnight. We’re going down for the late-afternoon shoot, and if it’s a good one we’ll stay for a shoot tomorrow morning.”
“Well — ”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much, I guess. John wants to talk to you about business this evening and — ”
“The hell with business.”
“I had a few things to talk over, too. But I suppose it can wait. How will I know when you’re coming back?”
“If you don’t hear from me I’ll be home tonight. But if I stay over I’ll call this evening.”
That was so typical of him I had to smile. Even with all the Hamlyne millions, he was not going to make an unnecessary phone call. I said, “All right.”
“So long.”
“Good-by, Jeff. Have luck.”
“I hope. Good-by.”
I told Ann what clothes I would wear that evening and went into the dressing room. I stripped and stepped into the shower. The needles of water bit into my skin and my brain began to clear and the black whirlpool slowed its revolutions.
I worked my way back through the afternoon by starting with John. When I had stepped into his arms at the corrals it could have been Jeffrey. It was not quite mistaken identity on my part, as I had been thinking of Jeffrey. Anyone could be excused for a mistake of that sort. But not John. He had no reason to assume his brother’s mantle and bestow a kiss upon me that was far from brotherly. I was not sure I enjoyed that situation. Matters were difficult enough without having John become suddenly affectionate. That would be more than I could cope with.
I wondered how I could put that problem at rest before it got started, but my mind refused to concentrate on it. There was a deeper problem that made all else pale in comparison.
I was almost wholly convinced that something had snapped in Jeffrey’s brain, or was about to break. It was an easy way to salve my own wounded pride, but still, it did seem so plausible. Jeffrey’s reactions were not normal. I had no pretensions toward being a better than average student of human nature, but there were a few basic truisms I could use for a yardstick.
Even the events of that day, though apparently normal on the surface, were far from that. When Jeffrey had left the house in the morning he had been in a hurry to escape being questioned about the previous night. Any man in his right mind would know that my emotional state was in bad shape. Then, considering that I had threatened leaving him the day before, it was not too difficult to assume that I might carry out that threat. Yet he had gone away to play golf, had remained away all day, and then had blithely gone on to Soledad to become involved in a hunting trip. No matter how I considered it, that was definitely not normal. Yet it fitted the pattern of all his actions ever since my arrival.
It fell in perfectly, too, with the feeling that I was not wanted at Lynecrest. If it could all be resolved down to something that simple, then Jeffrey’s actions made a lot of sense. He ignored me most of the time, he went his own way with no consideration for me, and he was making no attempt to act the part of a loving husband, or even just an ordinary husband.
But in view of my conversation with Vivien, he was not acting in a logical manner. Assuming that I had flown out to determine just how much I could mulct from the Haml
ynes in a divorce court, and further assuming that Jeffrey and John were worried about it, then Jeffrey was being a fool. If I were that type of person, his actions would enrage me to such a degree that I would have a whole battery of high-powered attorneys throwing everything in the book at the Hamlynes. Under circumstances of that sort, a normal man in his right mind would be breaking his neck to appease me. So that failed to make sense.
As for the situation with Vivien, Jeffrey had handled that in such a preposterously childish manner that it lacked any resemblance to normal behavior or common sense. If he had deliberately planned for me to know all about the affair, he could not have done a better job. He had even admitted it to me and, there again, normality broke down. He had spoken of it as casually as if saying, “I didn’t like that last highball. I don’t think I’ll drink that brand any more.” But that was ridiculous. His very casualness had shocked me more profoundly than the adultery. After all, I was his wife.
No matter in what direction my mind probed, I came face to face with the one simple fact that Jeffrey was acting in an abnormal manner. Vivien knew it even better than I. The remark she had made about his sanity was based on a backlog of information concerning his actions that was greater than my meager knowledge. There had been no question or doubt in that remark. It had been a statement of simple fact.
But if Jeffrey’s mind was deteriorating, what could be the cause? It had not been his marriage, of that I was positive. He had been too much in love. He could not have misled me, or himself, into a marriage that could so quickly become an error. That was unthinkable. It would mean not only that my character was weak, but that his was even weaker, and that I knew to be wrong. In spite of virtually all evidence to the contrary, I had to cling to that.
When I had reduced everything as far as possible, I was faced with another simple fact. Somewhere, hidden darkly in the first few weeks immediately following Jeffrey’s return to Lynecrest, was the image of a devious personality about whom I knew literally nothing — John Hamlyne. He was somewhere at the bottom of the whole puzzle. Either he had exerted some powerful influence over Jeffrey that had upset his balance, or he knew exactly what had caused it.
Marriage Bed Page 12