Innocent Little Crimes (21 page)

“Now, aren’t we all in an interesting
predicament,” Lila said. “Who would have guessed it? All these
nice, good people—devoured by the wolves. Not one redeemable
character in the bunch. Kinda makes you lose faith in humanity,
doesn’t it?”

“Can it, Li,” Della said.

“Oh, but there’s more.”

Groans erupted from those in the room.

“Let me guess,” Dick said. “Another amusing
parlor game. Like, how to serve roast guest.”

“Now, now, Ferrol, we’ve all taken a
roasting. But, never forget the golden rule. She who has the gold,
rules. And I have the gold.”

“Who cares? You dragged us down into the mud
and now you want to rub our faces in it?” Della said.

“. . . And when you have gold, you have
power. Power to destroy and power to heal.”

“Now you’re sounding like God. What’s your
next act? Are you going to carve Ten Commandments for us? Part the
Red Sea?” Dick asked.

Lila yanked on Millie’s sleeve. “Millie,
speak up. You’re so quiet.” Millie slumped down into the couch.
“Come now, in the past you always had gobs of advice for me. ‘Lila,
try out for Thespians, you can do it.’ or ‘wear this outfit—that’ll
get his attention.’ What do you think—should I tell Ida Ferrol
about her wayward son? Should I encourage Matson to squeal to the
police? Oh, the shame and disgrace. And what will your children
think of dear Daddy then? But look at the bright side: you could
have some peace and quiet for a few years while Dick serves out his
jail sentence.”

“Lila, shut up,” Dick said. “You can’t
threaten me.”

“Oh, but I can.”

Millie pleaded. “Please, Lila, can’t you just
forget the past? Can’t we say we’re sorry and be done with it? What
do you want from us?”

“Ah, Millie. So perceptive. Yes, there is
something I want from you all, and I think you know what it is.
Just a little thing. I’m talking about a matter of justice. Right
now I know you all feel everything’s hopeless. That your lives have
gone speedily down the toilet, so to speak. But all is not lost,
really. I could change your luck in the wink of a lottery ticket.
All I have to do is reverse this misfortune you seem to be having.
Why Dick, instead of going to jail, you could be state senator. Oh,
don’t look at me like that. You don’t think I can arrange it? You
fuckin’ bet I can.”

Lila’s voice became commanding. She took
center stage. “A few well-placed phone calls and the ball will
start rolling. Miraculously, the charges of fraud and embezzlement
will disappear. People will begin reciting your name and the word
around town will be ‘Ferrol for Senate.’ And in no time at all,
there’ll be an office with your name on it in gold letters. That’s
what you want, isn’t it? What you’d give your front buck teeth
for?”

Dick’s eyes glittered. Through the liquored
fog of his mind, he envisioned himself on the Senate floor, giving
a speech to the other movers and shakers of Washington State. He
wanted it so badly he could almost taste it.

“And Della, poor thing. You have nowhere to
go. I hate to think of you joining the ranks of the homeless.
Eating out of trash cans. You’ve used up all your coupons; no one
else will take you in. Or you might check into a rehab clinic and
try to clean up your act and face the shambles of your life. But
you know how that will turn out. You’ll just slit your wrists
again, and end your pain forever. However, there is another
alternative.”

Lila paced in the darkened room; the drunken
group listened attentively, trying to follow her drift. “I know how
much you love the sun. Wouldn’t you like to live somewhere
tropical, let’s say, the Bahamas, in your own sprawling home,
maids, servants at your command. Why, you wouldn’t have to lift a
finger ever again. I’d provide a handsome escort at your side, an
unlimited bank account at your disposal. Sound nice? And if you got
bored, maybe even a real part on Broadway. Start your career again,
this time on the right foot, with all the breaks. Della Roman, the
star she always aspired to be.” Lila snapped her fingers. “Just
like that.”

Della lulled herself into imagining the
picture Lila painted. It was such an easy, agonizing thing to do.
Her oiled body under a hot sun. A beautiful man massaging her back.
Never to go hungry or be frightened again.

“And you, dear Jonny, you could keep up the
desperate act of trying to find work. The jobs getting fewer and
fewer. Slowly slipping down the ladder back to episodes and finally
the real dregs; to daytime, and the soaps. Getting fired over and
over again because of your nasty disposition. You’ll eventually
have to give up the house and the Mercedes, hock everything and
leave town. What are you equipped to do? Sell vacuum cleaners or
Encyclopedia Brittanicas? Or hey, why not get a job in a deli? Now,
there’s an appropriate career for you. You have some experience in
that field.”

Jonathan visibly shuddered at the mention of
the deli. His childhood returned to his mind —his parents’ store
with the everlasting smell of sour pickles, his mother and father
screaming at one another. The endless sandwiches he made after
school, month after month. His clothes smelling of pastrami. He
would never do that again. Never. He would rather die.

Jonathan’s expression was not lost on
Lila. She smiled like an angel bearing gifts. “Relax, Jonny. Your
problem is the easiest of all to solve. One itty, bitty phone call
away. The hottest agent in town dying to sign you on. Job offers
pouring in. That elusive feature, yours at last. Jonny Levin, the
most sought-after director in Hollywood. Money pouring down from
the heavens. Maybe even an Oscar. You
will
remember me in your acceptance speech? Need
I go on?”

Jonathan’s heart pounded like a
jackhammer.
Damn her. She could do
it.
Just one lousy phone call.
Damn her!
He tried to blot out the thoughts.
Hearing his name called. Walking down the aisle as everyone grabbed
at him, wanting to touch success. On stage, being handed that
golden tribute to his talent.
Oh, please .
. . I want it . . .

Lila walked up to Millie and stroked her
hair.

“Millie, you have a choice. Be an unhappy
senator’s wife or don’t go back to him at all. How would you like
to own your own boutique? Pick all the merchandise. Answer to
nobody but little ol’ Mil. Be self-sufficient, finally free from
your money-grubbing, lying husband. Have your own hairdresser,
dietitian, and cook. Why, without all that aggravation, you’ll lose
fifty pounds in no time. The men will be pounding down your
door—handsome, considerate men. You’ll be your own woman. No more
walking in Dick’s suffocating shadow.”

Millie tried to shut out Lila’s words, but
they soaked in through every pore. Her head spun with exhaustion.
Once more, Lila was manipulating them all again. First, they were
coerced into playing that awful game in which no one could win.
What was she up to? She pulled them all down and now she was making
grandiose promises. But what would be the price this time? She
shuddered to think.

Lila waited for a response. Nothing. She
could hear the wheels turning. She chuckled. “To the right: life
eternal. To the left: hellfire and brimstone. The choice is
yours.”Jonathan looked at the others. “Watch out gang, she may only
be showing us the pilot. Remember the joke?”

“Very clever, Jonny. But you won’t know till
you pick, will you?”

Dick couldn’t stand it any longer. “So,
what do you want? What could
we
possibly do for you? You have everything.”

Lila paced across the carpeting. Her back
faced the hallway where Cynthia stood, transfixed.

“Not everything, Senator. I want Davis to
make good his promise to me.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding,”
Della said.

“All he needs a little persuading.”

“To do what?” Dick asked. “You can’t believe
we can talk him into giving Cynthia up to marry you.”

Jonathan groaned. “Be reasonable, Lila.”

“What kind of marriage would that be?” Millie
asked. “You can’t force someone into marrying someone they don’t
want.”

Dick sneered. “Oh, no?”

A smile spread across Lila’s face and she
nodded to Dick. “I rest my case.”

“It’s not possible,” Jonathan said.

Lila frowned. “I’m sure you’ll think of
something. You have until noon tomorrow. And don’t doubt for a
minute that I mean business.
I
always keep my word, unlike that S.O.B. A great injustice has
been committed and I want it rectified. Remember Oscar Wilde: ‘A
man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.’ God save
you from the wrath of Lila!” She emitted a sinister laugh that
reverberated off the stone walls. “Now, go.”

Cynthia gasped. Davis was right—even in
his drunken stupor, he had recognized Lila’s obsession. She
was
crazy, dangerously crazy.
Cynthia hurried to the front door and swung it open.

She screamed into the wind. “Davis, Davis,
where are you?” She rushed out into the black night, tightening her
scarf around her head. “Dammit, Davis, where are you?”

Inside, the others sat poised with tension.
Lila looked at her watch. “Twelve hours, troops, to accomplish your
mission, or turn back into rotting pumpkins. Happy hunting.” Lila
walked toward the hall.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jonathan
asked.

“To bed.”

“And that’s it?”

“My work’s done. Yours is just beginning. By
the way, I lied when I said there was no way off the island. You
may want to catch up with loverboy. It would be a shame if he
really did get away. A damn shame.”

With that comment, Lila disappeared down the
hall, heading for the stairs that led to her tower. She was aware
of a deadly silence behind her, broken only by Millie’s soft
crying. Slowly, Lila pushed herself up a stair at a time, grasping
the railing. Her breath came in spurts and her hands shook, as in
the aftermath of an accident, when it was safe to fall apart. This
had been her finest performance, but it drained everything out of
her. She desperately needed sleep. And she would find it easily,
now that the wolves had been set loose.

Chapter 21

Millie hesitated at the drawbridge. The
squall ripped through the pine trees, sending a cascade of needles
crashing into her face. Not far ahead, Della and Jonathan argued.
Intent on leading the way, Dick had been the first out and
impervious to Millie’s pleas to stop. He even slammed the door in
her face. But, what did she expect? That he would concede to Lila’s
victory? Forgive the things she said to him? For the life of her,
Millie couldn’t understand what this fury was all about. Lila’s
fury. Dick’s fury. All of them. Why tear each other to pieces?
Millie mulled the night’s events in her mind. Was Lila really
serious? She couldn’t possibly think Davis would marry her. So,
what was her point? To exercise her power? Make them all tremble? A
bizarre image of circus dogs came to mind. And Lila dressed in a
clown costume with a whip, making them jump through hoops at her
command. Lila even had a flashlight for each one of them waiting by
the door—as if she planned this very detail. Millie’s heart sank.
Despite her great success, Lila had become bitter and cruel. She
should be grateful for all she had. She should spend her energy and
money helping people, not destroying them.

Another image entered Millie’s mind: Dick
moping in a jail cell, ashamed and broken. She searched her heart
for pity and found none. If he broke the law and got himself into
this kind of trouble, then maybe he deserved it. It frightened her
to think of being alone, on her own with her two girls, but what
kind of husband and father had Dick been, anyway? Would she miss
him? She had this image of dressing her little girls to visit their
daddy in prison. How they would wail at the sight of him behind
bars. How Dick would suffer at seeing them.

Stepping carefully over roots and branches,
she edged her way through the woods until she could see the beach,
dark and forbidding in the moonless night. She felt as if she were
in some dream—no, nightmare. What was she doing in a forest, in the
dark, on a remote island without her little babies? She envisioned
them sleeping soundly in their beds; Dick’s mother perpetually
straightening the now spotless house, everything in perfect
order.

Millie’s head pounded hard, blurring her
vision. She strained to pay attention to her footing. Up ahead, the
three shapes ran along the shoreline, their flashlight beams
intersecting on the sand. Della stumbled behind the two men. Millie
was relieved when they stopped and searched the ground for
footprints, giving her a chance to catch up. Her body ached for
sleep.

“Hey,” she cried out, “wait up.”

Dick turned and saw Millie shuffling. He
resumed running. Della and Jonathan followed feebly.

“I said, wait up.” Millie collapsed on the
wet ground.

That was it, she quit. Her clothes were
soaked and her feet were two knobs of pain. It would be just her
luck to come down with pneumonia on top of everything.

Della came over and knelt beside her.

Millie panted hard. “What in God’s name are
you all doing? Lila sends you on some fool chase, and you go? Is
that it?”

“Speak for yourself.” Della sulked as the
rain splattered off the brim of her hood. Fishing a cigarette out
of her pocket, she lit it and took a long drag. She looked up the
beach, where Jonathan and Dick continued arguing as they slogged
along. “Hot shot thinks Davis went up there.” Della pointed to the
crest of rocks. “I’m not climbing any mountains in the dark. That’d
be suicide.”