Authors: Judith Michael
But the crowded calendar was not fair to Penny and Cliff, and Sabrina knew it. They need a family, she thought, and I should help them have one. I'll be gone soon enough.
'You're right. Penny,' she said. 'We should slow down and stay home more.'
Bemused, Garth looked at her. 'I thought this was your campaign.'
'But you only do it because I think we should.'
'On the contrary. Tm having a good time/
'Daddy!' Penny cried, and Sabrina looked at him in surprise.
'It's true, we've overdone it a bit/ he said, enjoying his wife's startled silence, 'But afteryearsof telling me we didn't go out enough, you've shown me how much I've been missing. I might,' he said, seeing the shadow in her tyes, 'stay home four or five nights out of seven, but no more.'
She laughed softly. 'Not excessive; we could anange that.'
'But what about tonight?' Penny asked.
'Tonight we go out; we are expected. Tomorrow we stay home. Can we manage that, Stephanie?'
'Yes.' She smiled as Penny ran out of the room and Garth put his arms around her. 'Tomorrow we stay home.*
She canceled the party they were to attend on Monday, and the four of them spent a slow, quiet evening together. After Penny and Cliff had gone to bed, Sabrina and Garth sat in the living room, talking, reading, thinking separate thoughts. How had she done it, Sabrina wondered - slipped so comfortably back into the life of the family? It had not been effortless; each morning she woke to the shattering realization of Stephanie's death and the precariousness of her life with Garth. But then, as the hours passed in a web of people and activities, she was pulled away from guilt and sadness over Stephanie toward the life of the family and community around her. And each day the pull of life became stronger. For the first time she could remember, she felt she had found the place where she belonged.
But then she would be pulled up short. This was not where she belonged; it was based on a lie, it all depended on a lie. She sat in the living room with Garth and reminded herself of that, repeating it to keep it real. Because beneath the touch of his hand, the weight of his body, the love in his eyes, she knew she could lose sight of what she had to do, or the strength to do it.
She turned back to her book just as the doorbell rang. Garth answered it and brought into the living room a small, middle-aged man who introduced himself as Karl Jenks, the
special investigator hired by Uoyd Strauss to look into anonymous charges against Professor Andersen.
'I've been talking to some folks/ he began» settling into an armchair in the living room and looking around. 'Nice room.' His small features, tucked beneath a high forehead, gave him a permanently suspicious look, and when he wrote in his notebook he puckered his mouth in concentration, like a child having trouble with spelling. 'Anybody mad at you, professor? You take somebody's job, or flunk somebody, or bonow a lawnmower and forget to return it?'
'No.'
'Nobody's mad at you? Nobody at all in the whole very wide world? You are universally loved?'
Garth looked steadily at Jenks until the small eyes slid sideways. 'We've made a list of students who may have felt badly treated by me. I'll get it for you.'
'In a minute. You help with the list, Stephanie?'
Sabrina raised her eyebrows. 'Have we met before?'
'What? Before tonight? I don't think so; why?'
'Because, Mr Jenks, only my friends use my first name.'
There was a pause. 'Oh, ho,'Jenks said finally. 'Excuse me, madam. Or perhaps you prefer my lady,*
Sabrina smiled and said nothing.
'Well, then, how about this list, my lady? You help make it up?*
'No.'
'You believe it?'
'Believe what? It's simply a list.'
'Might be you think your hubby didn't include everybody.'
'That is absurd.'
'Ah.' He wrote. Sabrina and Garth exchanged glances. Nothing they had said seemed worth recording.
'You play tennis, professor?'
Garth looked up from his thoughts. 'Yes. Does that apply to your investigation?'
'Might. Do you, Mrs Andersen?'
•Yes.'
•Played together latelyr
'No/ said Garth. 'My wife's sister died recently, and she is in mourning.'
'My condolences. Busy life you have-parties and museum openings and such. That pait of your mourning?'
'What a busy bee you've been, Mr Jenks/ Sabrina said pleasantly. 'Investigating our social life. Garth, do you think we should discuss our social life with Mr Jenks?'
'I think if Mr Jenks doesn't talk about anonymous letters, there is no reason for him to be here.'
'Nice little rugs,' Jenks said, swiveiing his head. 'From China?'
'Yes,'said Sabrina.
'You get them in China?'
'No.'
"The professor go with you to China?'
'That's enough,' Garth said, standing up. Til show you out.'
'Professor, I'm conducting an investigation. Under orders from your boss.'
'You're not investigating; you're fishing.'
'That's what an investigation is, professor. We toss out a bunch of worms and see who bites. You'll just have to be patient with me. You were in Stamford lately. Connecticut.'
Garth stood beside a bookcase, resting his arm on a shelf. 'That's right.'
'Didn't take the job, though, right?'
'Evidently you know the answer already.'
'Right. Professor Andersen go with you to China, Mrs Andersen?'
'No. I traveled with an association of antique dealers, and my husband generously made the trip possible by taking care of our children while I was away.'
Jenks wrote, puckering his mouth. 'This Talvia - you've been friends for a long time?'
'A long time,' Garth said evenly.
'They fight a lot, he and the little ladyr
Garth and Sabrina were silent.
Jenks wrote. 'Too bad about marital discord. Makes for wanderings. And all those young lovelies you teach.'
Sabrina caught Garth's eye and shook her head slightly.
'You don't agree, Mrs Andersen? About wandering, or about those young lovelies?'
*I don't agree that you're a fool.*
Jenks was thrown off his stride. He pulled a stick of chewing gum from his pocket and folded it into his mouth. 'Blake now. How well d'you know him?'
'He and I have met/ Garth said. 'Briefly. My wife doesn't know him/
'Now, there's a reputation for you. He likes 'em all ages and sizes, from what I hear.*
Sabrina looked at him pensively. 'What an unpleasant job you have, Mr Jenks.'
'Then there's Millbum.*
They were silent.
'You don't know him at all, I gather. Someone wrote a letter - there you are, professor, I'm talking about anonymous letters - and I checked him out for your boss. Matiiematician. Fools with numbers. When he's not fooling with young lovelies.*
'Is that based on the anonymous letter?* Sabrina asked coldly.
'No, ma'am, it's based on his confession. He says it only happened once, but who knows? His wife was his student when he married her. He likes the young ones. And I must say* - a wistful note entered his voice - 'they are indeed lovely. So tempting.'
The room was still. From upstairs, Sabrina heard Cliff's radio. 'You have office hours, professor.'
'Of course.*
'You see one student at a time or a group?'
'One at a time. We discuss confidential matters - grades, the quality of their work, their plans for the future.'
'One at a time. With the door dosed?'
'Sometimes.' Sabrina could see rage building in him from being forced to treat seriously Karl Jenks and his slithering questions.
'Mrs Andersen, you have many dinner guests?'
'Occasionally.'
'Ever invite any of the professor's students?'
/ have no idea. Sabrina looked at Garth.
'No/ he answered for her. 'We have an open house in June for all my students and lab assistants.'
'Mrs Andersen couldn't say that herself?*
'Mrs Andersen does not have to answer anything she doesn't want to. Especially if she thinks you are trying to trap her.'
Jenks chewed his gum. 'Professor, I've just come from Talvia's house. Everything hunky-dory, lovey-dovey; you'd never guess they have a reputation for fighting at parties. I come here, there's a houseful of sweetness and light, but the wife has been running off to China and England and the husband dashes to California whenever he gets a chance, and there's a very specific letter accusing the professor of screwing those tempting lovelies and making payment with grades, and I have a strong suspicion, professor, that you did not look the other way when the treats were offered.'
Swiftly Sabrina crossed the room and stood beside Garth, putting her arm around the rigid muscles of his waist. Her breast was against his arm, and she could feel him gradually relax.
'I could throw you out,' he said conversationally. 'But that would take more energy than you deserve. Lloyd Strauss told me you were brought in to find an anonymous letter-writer and get a confession, or whatever is required, to clear my name. Instead, in your own mind, you have tried and convicted me, on what information I have no idea. You did not come here to investigate, as you claimed, but to entrap. Therefore, you are here under false pretenses; you are impersonating an investigator and that is a crime under statute 44-C-1 of the City of Evanston, for which you can lose your license. I will decide whether to call the police or the university, or both, in the morning. It will depend in part on how quickly you leave my house. I will give you sixty seconds. Beginning now'. He put his arm around Sabrina and brought up his other wrist to look at his watch.
'You can't intimidate me, professor.'
'I'm sure I can't. Forty-five seconds.'
'Your wife knows that an innocent man would not try to kick me out of his house.'
'Thirty seconds.'
'Blufl5ng. That's all you're doing—'
Twenty seconds.'
Jenks shot out of his chair and bolted to the frontdoor. 'I'll be back; your boss will be very interested to know that you kicked me out. An innocent man wouldn't—'
'Outr roared Garth, and Jenks yanked open the door and was gone.
Sabrina's laughter rang out. 'Garth, how ridiculous.'
'I know.' Laughing with her, he took her in his arms. 'You were wonderful.'
'There's no Evanston law against impersonating yourself.'
*Of course not. The man is stupid. You were right - he's too sly to be a fool, but he is most certainly stupid.'
She stopped laughing. 'You're worried about him.'
'Yes. Aren't you?'
'Yes.'
The next morning Garth called Lloyd Strauss. 'You've put my career in the hands of a stupid son of a bitch who's already decided I'm guilty. I warn you, Lloyd—'
'Garth, don't warn me. I'm taking enough heat from the president on this. I'll be damned if Til take it from you. Has it occurred to you that you aren't the only one with a job and a future on the line? I want this whole fucking mess out of the way so we can get back to normal, and if you think I'm going to call off an investigator just because he rubbed you the wrong way ... Oh, shit. Listen, I don't like him either. But I needed an agency in a hurry, and his was recommended by someone who'd used it. I'll call to see if they can put someone else on the case. Good enough?'
'Good enough.' And he hung up before Strauss could tell him again not to do anything on his own. Because they had decid«i, after Jenks had gone, that they would begin to talk to the students on Garth's list. Someone, they thought, would give away something. And even if not, it was intolerable to sit by and do nothing.
He called his wife at Collectibles. 'I just wanted to hear your voice. And tell you I love you. I ulked to Lloyd, who
will try to replace our stupid Mend. And Marty Talvia finally called, full of apologies, saying he let us all down. I told him to take care of Linda; we'd survive. Is she there with you?'
'Yes, we're planning a sale. And Thanksgiving dinner. Marty has a new job.*
'He told me. That was the reason he finally called. He didn't feel he could face us until he was earning a living again. So Thanksgiving will be a celebration.'
Tor them. Not for us, yet. What time will you be home?'
'About five. You'll be there?'
'Of course.'
Sabrina went home for an hour at noon to call London. 'Nicholas, it's Stephanie Andersen. I haven't heard fi'omyou about Ambassadors.'
'Ah, my dear Stephanie, I meant to write; your dear sister would be so pleased, everything is so excellent.'
'What does that mean, Nicholas?'
'We bought at auction the chaise and ormolu clock you mentioned before; we bought the Regency chiffonier fi-om—'
'Nicholas.'
'Yes, Stephanie.'
'What have you sold?'
'Ah, sold. There is a slowing down this time of year—'
'There is no slowing down this time of year, Nicholas; what do you take me for? This should be the height of the season for our customers. What about your own shop?'
'We are doing - well.'
'Is that because of Amelia?'
'My dear Stephanie, you sound exactly like Sabrina. How sad you make me feel, remembering.'
'Nicholas, perhaps you will call Brian to the telephone.*
'No, no, Stephanie, there is no need. In fact, we sold the French clock, the one with the angels, you recall, and both pieces you bought at the Chilton auction. And I believe I will put the George V secretary in Lady Stargrave's new country house.*
'How much for the clock?'
'Three thousand.'
*It might have brought four. And the Chilton pieces?*
Twenty-three thousand for both.*
'Excellent. I can't believe you were going to keep that from me.'
'No, no, my dear, of course not. It was to be a s\irprise. But you dragged it out of me. How could I keep things from you, even if it entered my mind? Sidney Jones looks over my shoulder every day. By the by, he asks when you'll be here again.'
'Soon. Am I needed now?'
'Of course, dear Stephanie, since final decisions at Ambassadors still depend on you. Olivia was saying the other day that you reminded her so much of Sabrina she wishes you would move here and we could all pretend ... oh dear, how crude that sounds; somehow it didn't seem that way when Olivia—'