Cold Heart (51 page)

She had always been able to read his moods, almost his thoughts, and it was as though she sensed his scrutiny. ‘You’re sure you want to do this?’ she said quietly. ‘You know you can still back out.’

‘I don’t want to back out,’ he said. You could never tell with love, he thought, whether it would last or fade, stay constant or change. You just had to trust and step in. ‘Wear the hat.’

Sonja looked at herself again in the mirror, then turned. ‘Shall we go?’ she said, her expression grave.

Arthur tossed something towards her. ‘Here – this time it’s not a fake.’ She caught the ring box in both hands, knowing that the price of the jewel didn’t matter now: all the money had been transferred to Switzerland, and they would decide later how to move it back to the United States if and when they needed it.

He watched her take the ring from the box, admire it, then hold it out. ‘You put it on.’

He took it and held her hand, slipping it onto her wedding finger. Then he bent down to kiss her.

‘Well, we did it,’ he said softly, then smiled. ‘And we got away with it. Was it worth the wait?’

‘Yes, yes, it was.’ She was not looking at him. ‘Believe me, it was worth it.’

She turned away to catch another glimpse of herself as Arthur checked the time. They should go down to Reception, the limo would be waiting. Arthur crossed to the doors: as a small surprise, he had ordered some deep red roses as a bridal bouquet.

‘Give me two minutes . . . I’ll join you,’ she called.

He held the door half open.

‘Two minutes. See you down there.’

She waited for him to leave, adjusted her hat, needing a moment alone to look in her room of memories one last time before she turned the key. She remembered crossing the lawn, seeing Harry towelling himself dry after his swim. She had not decided then that that would be the day she killed him – a day she had been thinking about for a long time, and neither of them had known then that everything Harry Nathan did that day he was doing for the last time. It was when she had seen the gun on the table, one of Nathan’s own guns, and had known that there would be no difficulty in disposing of a weapon, that she had felt she had received the signal to put the plan into action, had known that there would never be a better chance.

Harry had tossed aside his towel, not bothering to cover his nakedness in front of her, vain as ever of his body. Sonja had taken a handkerchief out of her pocket. He had paid no attention when she picked up the gun, turning it in her hand and covering it with the cloth. It felt cold and heavy – like her heart. She had raised it first to his chest, then a little higher, and he had smiled, told her to be careful as it was loaded. Then his face had slowly drained of colour as she aimed it at his neck, then tilted the barrel to his face.

‘I’ve wanted to kill you for a long time, Harry, and until now I never thought I could. But you know something, Harry, I can.’

He had backed away, terror visible in his face, as his eyes widened in fear. Then she had pulled the trigger, and he stumbled two steps forward, then toppled into the pool. She had stood there, watching the petals of blood unfold from his head, as he floated face down, arms outstretched, the image that had never left her, and that she had felt driven to replicate, partly as a triumphal shout, a final exorcism – and partly as a confession that no one had heard.

She had then picked up her shoes, and walked back across the gardens, returning to the rented Mitsubishi jeep – Harry had agreed she should get one as close to Kendall’s as possible just in case anyone saw her driving in and out of the house for their meetings and to remove the paintings. Suddenly she knew how fortunate that was. Sonja could not have cared less if the phoney, odious Kendall ended up paying the penalty for Harry Nathan’s death.

No one else could possibly be incriminated, she had thought – but Cindy had been her one mistake. She had thought Nathan had told her on the phone, when they arranged the meeting, that he and Cindy had had a fight and she had left. It was only when she had heard the girl’s scream after the killing that she had realized that she must have misunderstood. He must have said that Cindy had threatened to go, or was about to. Poor Cindy, she had thought. She had had no desire to see the pathetic, abused girl stand trial, and it must have been fate that had ensured she had not only met a local private investigator a few weeks previously but had remembered the woman’s name. She had stopped the jeep at once, had got the number from Information, then called Lorraine Page’s office from a public phone.

Her plane trip back to New York was, as always, booked in a different name, and she had carried the paintings like posters in rolls of cardboard. She was never stopped or questioned.

By the time she had returned to the Hamptons, the news had broken that Harry Nathan had been murdered and Cindy Nathan arrested. Next day, it had transpired that things were worse than Sonja had thought: the gun she had used had been Cindy’s.

After that she had just sat back and watched the aftermath. Now there was no one left to hate, no one left to blame. She had told the world of her guilt, but no one had noticed, and it was over at last, she thought.
Quietus est.

*

Rosie was out of breath as she joined Burton and Rooney – she’d rushed to the hospital as soon as she had heard.

‘What happened? Is she all right?’

Rooney sat her down. ‘There’ve been complications. Her breathing has deteriorated, and her temperature’s started rising. She’s holding her own, but now they’re worrying that her heart’s been under too much strain.’

Jake took Rosie’s hand. ‘Mike’s on his way in, and the girls. It’s just a matter of time now.’

‘No, no, I don’t believe it – she was getting better. They said her breathing wouldn’t stabilize – well, it did. She’ll get over this relapse – it’s just a kind of a relapse, right? Look, I know her, I know her, and . . .’ Rosie’s face crumpled but she kept on talking about how she and Lorraine had first met – how ill Lorraine had been, how she was so thin and weak that no one would have ever believed she could recover, quit her alcohol addiction . . .

‘It’s part of the problem, Rosie, sweetheart. Her body took so much punishment for so long, it’s just tired out.’ Rosie started to sob and Rooney gripped her hand tightly. ‘Now you listen to me, her daughters are coming in, and we don’t want them upset and scared. Just pull yourself together – there’s been enough tears, and you don’t want Lorraine to see you crying.’

‘She can’t see me, she’s in a coma,’ Rosie said, wiping her nose.

‘I know, but nobody knows if that means she can’t hear. So dry your eyes, and go freshen up.’

Rosie went to the powder room, and Rooney felt exhausted. He had no tears left to cry, and he looked at the quiet, composed Jake. ‘You okay?’

Jake was far from okay, but he nodded, and Rooney sighed heavily. ‘You know, maybe it’s for the best. I mean, it’s likely she’s got brain damage, and I wouldn’t want to see her all crumpled up, unable to do anything for herself. I know she wouldn’t want that either.’

Both men stood up as Dr Hudson came out of the unit and gestured to them to sit down. He asked if Lorraine’s daughters were coming in to see her, and Jake said they were on their way.

‘You want it straight?’ he said, pulling at the collar of his white coat. They both nodded. ‘I’ve always been level with you, and I’ve got to admit I didn’t think we’d be able to hold her for this long, but this recent development . . . Her organs are just giving way, and I am afraid there’s nothing more we can do. It really is a matter of hours. She’s in no pain, but her heart is now in trouble, and what with that and the cumulative malfunction of her kidneys and lungs . . .’

‘How long?’ Jake said quietly.

‘I doubt if she’ll last the night. I’m very, very sorry.’

Jake stood up and looked at Rooney. ‘I’d like some time alone with her, before her daughters arrive.’ He turned his gaze to the doctor. ‘Can I go in?’

The doctor nodded: the staff were already making Lorraine look more presentable by removing some of the drips and machines from the room, which was already screened off from the rest of the unit to give more privacy. ‘The nurse will come out in a minute, but I’ll be here if you need me. Just tell the duty nurse, or Reception to buzz me.’ The doctor hovered for a moment, then walked away from the tiny overheated anteroom with a grave nod.

Five minutes later, when Rosie had returned, a nurse came out. She smiled cheerfully and held the door ajar. ‘You can see her now. Thank you for all the gifts.’

‘They were from Lorraine,’ Rosie said firmly. The nurse moved away, and Rosie saw as she went in that the little Christmas tree had been taken down.

Sonja and Arthur exchanged their vows in a quiet ceremony, with only one other person as a witness, a clerk from the mayor’s office, a small, balding man who had obviously performed this function on innumerable occasions. He gave them an encouraging smile, signed the register with a flourish, and wished them every happiness in their future life. They walked out arm in arm, Sonja’s bouquet of roses matching Arthur’s buttonhole.

‘Holy shit, they gone an’ put my nightdress on back to front,’ Lorraine said, then angrily told Burton that one of the nurses should be fired as she had a rough bedside manner. He drew up a chair and sat close to the bed.

‘I have to say you must have shares in a florist!’ Lorraine joked. ‘I mean, this is getting to be ridiculous. When I get out of here, I’m taking that bunch with me, the lilies – I always liked lilies, it’s the smell. I’ve been meaning to ask you, though it’s a bit embarrassing, do I smell? I know they clean me up, but that fucking nurse, the one with the frizzy hair, I don’t think she’s a pro. She almost had me out of the bed earlier you know, whipping out the fucking tubes as if she was playing an organ.’ He touched her hand, and let one finger trace the dark bruises where the needles and drips had been attached. ‘I know – they think they’re digging for gold trying to find a vein.’ She laughed, then frowned.

‘I worry about wearing this ring – I don’t know if you can trust these nurses. I remember when my dad was in hospital, you couldn’t leave fifty bucks. Mind you, he wasn’t in a private ward like this. Thank Christ I blew so much on a private medical plan.’

He gently traced her fingers, touching each nail. ‘I love you, will never forget you, and with this ring I thee wed. You are the wife I always wanted and never believed I’d find, but we did find each other, didn’t we? If just for a short while.’

‘Yeah, we sure did, and you know I’ve never been the romantic kind, but . . . remember the beach? The first time you came walking with me and Tiger – I knew I was in love with you then. Actually I knew when you knocked on the door. Did I tell you that? You have a way of holding your head, on one side, and when you’re going to say something romantic, you get these two red dots in your cheeks. You’ve got them now . . .’

‘Remember the first time we walked on the beach?’

‘Yes, I just said that. But it was even better later with all that takeaway food – my God, we ordered every single thing off the menu. You know I truthfully never thought I’d have someone love me.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you, too, with all my heart, and . . . Hey, where you going? Don’t go yet, I want to kiss you. Don’t go, let me kiss you.’

Jake got to the door, stopped, turned back. He found it almost unbearable to see Lorraine propped up, but with her eyes closed, just as if she was sleeping. He returned to the bed and gently kissed her lips, then rested his head against hers and touched her cheeks. For the first time her flesh felt cold.

‘I don’t call that a kiss, and listen, we have to talk before you go. Listen to me, it’s very important. I cracked the Nathan case. Sonja Nathan killed him, I’m sure of it. I know I’ve got nothing but circumstantial evidence, but you’ve got to get my briefcase and get some phone company records out of it, and contact the clinic where I had my scar fixed. I’m sure she was there. You’ve got to get the tape recording Decker made of that call that was made to my office too – the one Cindy never made. He couldn’t find it, but it’s just got to be there somewhere. It was Sonja. Why don’t you listen to me? Where are you going?’

Jake leaned out into the corridor. ‘Bill, you want to come in? I’ll just take five minutes, go to the John.’

Rooney came in, sweating as usual, wanting to take off his jacket, but not sure that he should.

‘Sit down, Billy, before he gets back. We got to talk – he doesn’t seem to take me seriously, but I think I cracked the Nathan case. I’ll need help, and there could be big bucks in it if we can recover the stolen art work. It’s worth millions and I have a damned good idea where it is. Germany. I also know Sonja Nathan killed her husband.’

‘Rosie’s with me, she won’t be a minute.’

‘Okay. Let me get this sorted out before she comes in. First you have to check out Nathan’s fake passports, there’s a letter in my purse he sent to his mother from Germany. I think – in fact, I’m sure – Sonja Nathan was working with her ex-husband on this art fraud scam. It’s big money, Bill, not a few hundred thousand dollars, but millions.’

He looked at her, lying so still, eyes closed as if she was sleeping.

‘You look beautiful, darlin’,’ he said softly.

‘Oh, quit with the flattery. Listen to what I’m saying. We trace those paintings, we’ll all be in for a few bucks to retire on, Billy. I’m out after this case, and all I want to do is crack it – you know the way I am. Now, I need you first to contact Feinstein, then get my briefcase out of the apartment, Bill. Then you and Rosie do another trip to Europe. I want this case cleared before I quit, know what I mean? I get married to Jake and . . . You like him, don’t you? He’s an okay guy, isn’t he? And I’m going to tell you something. I was so scared, Bill – you know, I didn’t think I had any right to love or be loved. He loves me, Billy.’

‘We’re taking care of Tiger,’ Rooney said, trying to think of something to say, then told her how the dog had already destroyed their new sofa.

Lorraine laughed, that big, bellowing laugh of hers. ‘Hey, Bill, did you ever tell Rosie about that guy, remember him? With the lottery ticket? God, that was funny.’