Lovers & Players (51 page)

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Authors: Jackie Collins

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Thank God she’d kept Liberty away from him. Not that she’d had any choice, Red had never expressed any desire to meet his daughter. He’d seen Liberty once when she was twelve–the fateful day he’d caught her napping on his bed. After that unfortunate incident, he’d insisted she was sent away.

Diahann wondered why Red wanted her and Liberty at this meeting. When Liberty found out that Red Diamond was her father, she’d go crazy. She had always expressed her loathing of him. Diahann knew that when she discovered the truth there would be an explosion.

‘Let me get down to it,’ Red said, clearing his throat. ‘Unfortunately, in spite of my excellent physical condition, I will not be around forever. This means that I will be obliged to leave my estate to someone.’

‘Find a charity, we’re not interested,’ Max muttered.

‘When I’m dead and gone you’ll change your minds,’ Red said. ‘Money has a way of making people change their minds. So…to prevent any untoward
claims
on my estate, I have recently made an iron-clad Will that leaves everything–and I mean
everything
–to your two sisters.’

‘Sisters?’ Chris said. ‘We don’t
have
sisters.’

‘I knew there was
something
I forgot to mention,’ Red said, enjoying every moment of his revelation. ‘Diahann,’ he ordered, ‘stand up and tell them about our daughter. Sorry, Jane, I know
you
wanted to be the one to spit it out, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?’

Lady Jane shot him a venomous look. She wanted to leave and call her lawyer. On the other hand she was frightened she might miss something that she could use later.

Diahann felt exposed and vulnerable. Why was he doing this to her? After Zippy’s demise she’d kept her silence. She’d done everything Red had asked her to. To this day she was not sure if she or Red had shot Zippy. They’d been locked in a tangle and somehow or other the gun had gone off. Had
she
pulled the trigger or had Red? Because when Zippy slumped to the floor, the gun had thudded to the ground and she’d never been sure who’d actually shot him.

Red had been determined to avoid any scandal. He’d immediately taken over, arranging for Zippy’s body to be removed, offering Diahann a job as his housekeeper. He’d promised her room and board and a lump sum of money sometime in the future. In a veiled way he’d threatened her that if she didn’t do exactly as he suggested, Zippy’s body would be found and she’d be arrested for his murder. ‘Who will the cops believe?’ he’d said. ‘A black woman or a white man? Your kid will go into the welfare system and you’ll be fucked.’

Tired and scared, she’d agreed to everything. At the time it hadn’t seemed so bad, a safe haven, no more singing for money to keep the bills paid. Red switched Liberty to an expensive private school in Manhattan, and paid for any incidentals. Diahann had comforted herself with the thought that Liberty was getting a far better education than she could’ve afforded to give her.

And now, almost ten years later, here she was sitting in Red Diamond’s library while he prepared to reveal that he was Liberty’s father–because
he
felt like it.
Yes
, she thought.
Red Diamond is as bad as everyone says he is. Cruel, arrogant, a manipulative bully
. How much longer could she put up with him?

She was damned if she was going to tell them about Liberty. Let
him
be the one to do so if he was so anxious for them to know.

‘Seems Diahann has lost her voice,’ Red said. ‘She looks pretty today, doesn’t she? Cleans up nicely. You should’ve seen her when she was singing all my favourite songs–she was quite a beauty then. A
black
beauty.’ Another chuckle. ‘Can’t blame a man for dipping into a chocolate sundae for a change. But, disappointingly, Brown Sugar tricked me, got herself pregnant. So, being the man I am, I took her and the baby in. And in case your fertile minds are wondering, tests were done and the child
is
mine. A man can never be too sure.’

Diahann felt like laughing in his face. Took her and the baby in.
Really?
Liberty was almost ten years old when they came to live with him, and the
only
reason that happened was because of Zippy’s demise and the confusion over who might have shot him.

‘Speak up, Diahann,’ Red ordered. ‘We’re all waiting. What’s the girl’s name?’

‘I can tell you’re as close to her as you were to us,’ Chris said, vaguely remembering that when Diahann had first come to work for Red, he’d seen a scrawny little kid running around a couple of times. ‘You don’t even know her name.’

‘If I’ve got a sister, I want to meet her,’ Jett said.

‘Why?’ Red questioned, adding a succinct, ‘Oh,
I
get it. I told you she’s getting all my money, so why
not
make friends?’

‘You said
sisters,
’ Max interrupted. ‘What other surprise do you have for us?’

‘One that
you
’re not going to like,’ Red said, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s about Lulu.’

‘What about her?’

‘Mariska and I were very close, you know.’

‘No, you weren’t.’

‘Yes. We
were.

‘What about Lulu?’

‘Sorry, Max, to be the one to tell you, but Mariska and I were closer than you thought. Lulu is
my
daughter.’

Max shook his head, convinced he was in the middle of some hideous nightmare.

‘What did you say?’ he managed.

‘Lie down with dogs and you get fleas. Marry
whores
an’ you get what you deserve. Didn’t I teach you
anything
?’

Before anyone could say a word, there was a noisy commotion outside the library, and the door burst open.

Into the room came Detective Rodriguez, his female partner and two uniformed cops. They were followed by an outraged butler.

‘What the
hell
is going on?’ Red bellowed. ‘Who are you people? And what the
hell
are you doing, bursting into my house like this?’

‘We have an arrest warrant, Mr Diamond,’ Detective Rodriguez said, waving the warrant in front of him.

‘A warrant?’ Red shouted, his craggy face darkening. ‘For which one of my useless sons?’

‘For you, Mr Diamond,’ Detective Rodriguez said, his words slow and forceful. ‘I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Mariska Diamond.’

Chapter Sixty-Seven
 

A
fter Red’s revelations and subsequent arrest, somehow or other Chris found himself in charge. Max was a mess. Jett was in shock. And Diahann was hysterical. She appealed to Chris to find Liberty before the press discovered that Red Diamond had an illegitimate daughter.

‘Tell me where she is and I’ll get her back here,’ Chris promised.

Diahann was vague–all she knew was the name of the hotel Liberty was staying at in L.A.

With the small amount of information he had, and a photo of Liberty supplied by Diahann, Chris called Andy in L.A., e-mailed him the photo, and dispatched his assistant to Shutters to find her.

Andy, being the diligent person he was, got to Shutters just as Liberty and Damon were about to step into a limo on their way to Damon’s plane.

Andy was able to convince Liberty that her mother needed to see her urgently. Damon reluctantly understood, and instead of flying to Cabo, they flew directly to New York.

‘I got no clue what’s goin’ down,’ Damon said to Liberty, when his plane landed in New York, ‘but whatever it is, LL, y’ know I got your back.’

When Diahann told Liberty the truth, her world shattered. Red Diamond was her
father
. Red Diamond, a man she loathed. Red Diamond, the man who’d banished her from his house and forced her mother to work as a maid.

‘He didn’t force me,’ Diahann sighed, leaving out the part about Zippy. ‘I
chose
to work for him.’

‘And now he’s been arrested for
murder?
’ Liberty said, horrified.

‘I’m sorry, Libby. I know I should’ve told you about Red before. I…I don’t know why I didn’t.’

Liberty ran straight to Damon. He was the only person she felt she could trust.

‘You’re gettin’ away,’ he told her. ‘Out of New York. Out of this whole scene. I got a house on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. A house, recordin’ studio, the works. I already talked to Parker and he’s gonna fly down there with you. The two of you are gonna work on your music.’

‘Why are you doing this for me?’ she asked. ‘You’re not getting anything out of it.’

‘Oh, yes, I am, babe,’ he said, giving her the look. ‘I’m gettin’ me a future star, so don’t you be lettin’ me down.’

 

 

Jett immediately called Amy, and asked her to meet him at Sam’s place. She did so, and he told her everything before she heard it on the news.

She was there for him, in spite of the fit she knew her mother would throw.

‘What about Max?’ she asked. ‘Shouldn’t we be with him?’

‘Yeah, if he wants us,’ Jett agreed.

But they couldn’t reach Max. He was already in his car on his way to Montauk.

When he arrived, he hugged Lulu for a long time, then sat in the garden, with her playing games. She’d already lost her mother: he was determined she wouldn’t lose him too.

 

 

Chris waited until Red was released on ten million dollars’ bail, then flew back to L.A. and onto Vegas. Birdy Marvel was on the outs with her fiancé, so he had a wedding to cancel and a debt to pay. He took care of both.

In a few days he decided he’d fly back to New York–mainly to check on his brothers. It was a tough time for all of them, and he wanted to make sure everyone was okay.

Since when had
he
become the responsible one in the family?

He was a lawyer. Looking after people went with the territory.

 

 

The trial of Red Diamond for the murder of Mariska Diamond would’ve been huge. A mega billionaire stabbing his son’s wife to death in a jealous frenzy when he’d discovered she entertained other lovers, was a story made in heaven.

However, it did not come to pass. Arrested and released on ten million dollars’ bail, Red Diamond suffered a massive heart-attack and expired two weeks after his initial arrest.

Detective Rodriguez was unhappy not to get his day in court. After all,
he
was the one who had painstakingly put it together. Who else would’ve suspected a powerful man such as Red Diamond?

He’d started to wonder about Red when, right at the beginning of his investigation, the billionaire had refused to see him.

Flag number one: his daughter-in-law had been murdered, yet Red Diamond did not want to answer any questions about his son’s wife. Why?

Flag number two: he’d looked Red Diamond up on the Internet and found a wealth of material, including his interest in swords and daggers–apparently he had quite a collection. The coroner had stated that Mariska had been stabbed with some kind of old-fashioned dagger.

Flag number three: according to the desk clerk in her building, and two parking attendants in the underground garage, Mariska had entertained three men on a regular basis. One was a reclusive elderly man, who always arrived bundled up in a scarf, a hat pulled low over his forehead and, come rain or shine, black-out sunglasses. The desk clerk recalled seeing him late Sunday night, around the time Mariska was probably killed. The man usually arrived in a town car, always with a different driver.

Detective Rodriguez had built his entire career on gut feelings. He was good, very good. And he’d had a gut feeling about Red Diamond right from the start. He didn’t know why, it was just one of those things. Because of those feelings he’d followed every lead. There were fingerprints on Mariska’s body, and while he was researching Red Diamond, he’d discovered there was a time when Red had decided to buy a casino in Vegas. He’d needed a gaming licence. The gaming board had needed his fingerprints.

It was a match. And Detective Rodriguez had no doubt the other DNA samples would be a match too. Sperm, hair, skin. It was all there, and one of the parking attendants was able to identify Red.

Regarding Mariska’s mother, Irena, Detective Rodriguez had no gut feeling. But once Red was under arrest, he turned his attention to solving Irena’s murder: it shouldn’t be
that
difficult.

He started with Mariska’s Russian phone book.

Epilogue: One Year Later
 

S
ometimes careers take a long time to take off, other times it’s instant stardom. Like an incandescent shooting star, the combination of Liberty’s looks and her untapped talent catapulted her into the second category.

Her first CD made it to the top of the charts within weeks of hitting the stores. From unknown cover girl on
White Cool
magazine, she was suddenly Liberty, the latest female singing sensation. The critics loved her.

Entertainment Weekly
wrote:
Exotically beautiful with a voice to match–Liberty is the new Alicia Keys/Norah Jones/female Usher combination. Her sultry, soulful style will stop you dead. Her CD,
Revelations,
is just that. A true revelation of the highest order. Download ‘Married Man’, a sassy, poignant commentary on not making out with married men. Liberty is destined to go far.

 

Cindi read her the review over the phone from Cleveland where she was on tour with Slick Jimmy. Surprisingly Cindi’s relationship with Slick Jimmy had endured–and although Cindi was not yet
Mrs
Slick Jimmy, she
had
given birth to a gorgeous baby boy they’d named, much to Aretha’s horror, Baby Rap. Cindi was happy, that was the main thing.

‘Unbelievable, girl!’ Cindi enthused. ‘What does Damon havta say?’

‘I’m not sure he’s seen it yet,’ Liberty answered vaguely.

She didn’t want to mention that she hardly ever saw Damon anymore. After their aborted trip to Cabo, and the following dramas, he’d sent her off to the Bahamas with Parker, and totally backed away from anything personal between them.

At first she’d thought his absence was just temporary, but after a while she realized he was all-business towards her. Friendly, encouraging, but all business. She couldn’t figure it out.

‘Call him up,’ Cindi insisted. ‘Tell him to send someone out to buy the magazine. You
know
how many extra copies of your CD this is gonna sell?’

‘I’m on my way to the airport.’

‘Goin’ where?’

‘L.A. I’m appearing on
The Tonight Show.

‘Bring it, girl!’ Cindi said, impressed. ‘You’re a star!’

Liberty hung up the phone. She didn’t feel like a star, she felt very alone. Suddenly becoming the centre of attention was a scary place to be.

Oh, yes, she was surrounded by minders–thanks to Damon–but she was still alone. All the managers, producers and publicists in the world didn’t make up for not having that one special person by her side.

When she’d first arrived at Damon’s house in the Bahamas she’d been so sure that, within weeks, he’d be there with her. After L.A. she’d felt as if they were just about to embark on an adventure. But no, he had never come. He called occasionally, and Parker assured her he was happy with the demo tapes of her new songs and the arrangements they were working on.

After a couple of months she decided to call Damon and ask him if it was okay if her boyfriend came to visit. ‘If that’s what you want,’ Damon said over the phone.

She hung up, furious. That was
it
–no more thinking about Damon. It was quite clear that
he
wasn’t thinking about her. He was busy doing other things, other girls. Screw
him
. She convinced herself that she didn’t care anymore.

Kev arrived for a week and left after three days. She tried to let him down easy, but as far as she was concerned the thrill was definitely gone.

The night he left she sat down and wrote ‘
Married Man
’–a farewell ode to Damon.

Lately she’d been thinking a lot about calling her mother and reconnecting. After finding out that Red Diamond was her father, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with Diahann. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with any of the Diamond family either, although deep down she knew she was being unreasonable: it wasn’t
their
fault that Red had turned out to be her father.

Still…she was sure they must hate her–the illegitimate half-black sister who was due to inherit half of Red’s fortune when she hit twenty-five.

Not that she had any intention of taking his money. She didn’t
want
it, it wasn’t hers, and she refused to give it any serious thought.

 

 

There were three murders in Manhattan over a long hot weekend. One was a mugging that went too far. The second was a shooting. And the third was a statuesque Russian call-girl.

Detective Rodriguez stood in the hotel room where she had been discovered by a now hysterical maid. He stared down at the woman’s naked body sprawled half-off, half-on the bed. She was a beauty all right, with flaming-red hair and whiter than white skin.

Someone had strangled her with their bare hands, and the bruises on her neck were already a deep purple.

Detective Rodriguez remembered the woman from his investigation of Mariska Diamond’s mother’s murder–Irena–shot in her tiny apartment in Brighton Beach.

After some fine detective work, he’d unearthed a ring of jewellery thieves connected to the Russian mob. Mariska Diamond had been involved somehow, along with her sometime lover, Alex Pinchinoff, a very nasty piece of work.

Several months previously, when Detective Rodriguez had arrived at Alex Pinchinoff’s apartment to question the man, the red-haired woman had answered the door. She’d been quite obliging, told him she was Alex’s girlfriend, and that Alex was in Europe on business. It hadn’t taken him long to find out exactly who she was. Sonja Sivarious: a working call-girl.

Detective Rodriguez had been unable to prove that Alex Pinchinoff had had anything to do with Irena’s murder and one of Alex’s henchmen had taken the fall–Igor, a weasel of a man, who confessed to shooting Irena on nobody’s orders.

Right. Nobody’s orders. Sure.

Detective Rodriguez had it figured out that Alex Pinchinoff had sent the man to recover Mariska’s box of cash and loose stones, which he thought Irena had. After recovering the box, he was to kill her so she couldn’t talk. The man had killed her all right, without recovering a thing.

Ever since then, Detective Rodriguez had kept a watchful eye on Alex Pinchinoff. He’d nail him for something. Eventually.

Detective Rodriguez stared at the red-head’s neck.

Perhaps she’d known too much.

Perhaps Alex had dispatched her himself.

There were bruises on her neck
and
fingerprints…

Detective Rodriguez felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He had a gut feeling…

 

 

Eventually Chris had talked Jett into accepting the money Red had left him. ‘Why not?’ Chris had said. ‘You’re with a girl who will inherit a fortune one day, so take advantage of five mill in the bank. After the way
we
were raised, you kinda deserve it, little bro’.’

After thinking it through and discussing it with Amy, Jett agreed. It seemed foolish
not
to accept it.

So he took the money and purchased a loft in Tribeca. He also hooked up with a top modelling agency, and after the Courtenelli ads appeared, he began getting excellent bookings, plus a couple of major endorsement deals–one to be the face of Dolce and Gabbana cologne. Quite a coup.

Amy kept her job at Courtenelli, and after a while she sold her apartment and moved in with Jett.

Her mother was beyond furious. Nancy rushed over to Grandma Poppy’s and informed the old lady that under
no
account was she to leave Amy any money.

Grandma Poppy was quite amused. She told Nancy to calm down and go away. ‘My money goes wherever
I
want it to go, and it’s certainly not going to
you
, Nancy, dear. You have more than enough as it is.’

Grandma Poppy couldn’t wait to tell Amy all about her meeting with Nancy. They both had a good laugh, and later that night Amy brought Jett over for dinner.

Grandma Poppy was quite entranced. ‘This one’s a keeper, dear,’ she informed her granddaughter.

Amy smiled. ‘
I
think so.’

‘Don’t let him get away.’

‘Got a feeling he doesn’t want to, Grams.’

After several months of happy togetherness, Jett suggested that it might be a great idea if they got married.

Amy demurred. Much as she loved him, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready. But after several weeks of discussing it, they decided to take out a wedding licence just in case, and a week later they got married in City Hall.

As far as Amy was concerned, it was the perfect way to do it.

 

 

Max kept Lulu. Both Jett and Chris agreed it was for the best not to tell the little girl anything until she was older and could understand.

Red Diamond was headline news for many months. Then, gradually, people moved on. The information about Red’s two illegitimate daughters fortunately never made it to the newspapers or rags. It was a family secret, and it would stay that way.

The brothers agreed to sell the house on 68th Street. It was owned by a trust in their names–an asset Red had managed to overlook. Or maybe he had meant them to have
something
.

Once they’d sold the house, they made a substantial payment to Lady Jane Bentley to secure her silence. Diahann had already sworn she would never say a word, but since Red had only left her what they considered a small amount in his Will, they compensated her too.

Max threw himself back into his business, ignoring the scandal that swirled around him. His multi-million-dollar commercial building project was almost completed. The Japanese bankers were so delighted that they wished to invest in any other projects he might bring them. Max had plans for several new towering apartment buildings to be built near the river. The Japanese assured him that money was no problem.

Socially he was invited everywhere. He was rich, successful and single, so every New York hostess had him on their A-list.

So far he had not met anyone he cared to spend time with. But it would happen. He was confident that there was
someone
out there who’d be right for him.

 

 

Free at last, Diahann left the house on 68th Street and moved in with her sister for a while. Liberty wasn’t speaking to her, but Liberty
was
still in touch with Aretha, so Diahann felt that at least she had
some
connection to her daughter.

One afternoon, out shopping for groceries, she stopped off at a used record store she’d been meaning to visit. The place was full of old-time LPs with glamorous shots of stars like Aretha Franklin and Diana Ross on the sleeves. Flipping through the albums, Diahann recalled her days’ singing at Gloria’s, and how much she’d loved it. She wondered if the club was still there, and if Gloria was looking for a somewhat rusty jazz singer.

Why not?
she thought. She could still sing, she looked okay, and she wasn’t even forty, so why not? Shivering with excitement just
thinking
about it, she chose a Billie Holiday album, and took it up to the counter.

‘This is out on CD,’ the young girl behind the counter informed her.

‘That’s
not
what you’re supposed to say in a store that sells old records,’ the owner of the store said, emerging from an office in the back. He was tall and nice-looking very black and very familiar.

‘Leon?’ Diahann questioned, recognizing him immediately.

‘Diahann?’ he said, his face lighting up.

She nodded.

He beamed.

It had been twelve years, but within two weeks they were living together again.

 

 

It took several arduous months for Chris to painstakingly restore his house to its pristine state, but once it was done, it was worth it. Then, a few weeks later, he received a call from Gianna.

‘I am in ’Ollywood,’ she announced, in her charming accent. ‘I am doing beeg movie. I play the Italian girl.’

Surprise. Surprise.

‘You called me once, a while ago,’ he said. ‘Then I never heard from you again.’

‘I didn’t want to bother you, Chris, with your family–how you say?–difficulties. My English
bene
now,

?’



,’ he answered, smiling, because he was genuinely pleased to hear from her.

A few days previously, sitting in his office with Birdy Marvel–currently engaged to a raunchy rock ’n’ roller–the sexy young singer had leaned across his desk and said, ‘Like, what you need, dude, is some
fun
. You’re getting
so
freakin’
serious
in your old age.’

Old age indeed! He was only thirty-three.

Now here she was. Gianna. On the phone. And she represented fun with a capital F.

‘How about dinner tonight?’ he suggested.

‘Is good,’ she said.

‘Is
very
good,’ he agreed. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘L’Hermitage.’

‘I’ll pick you up. Eight o’clock suit you?’


Bene
, Chris.
Molto bene
.’

That was a few months ago, and they’d been together ever since. Nothing serious. Just fun.

 

 

Sitting in her dressing room, waiting to appear on
The Tonight Show
, Liberty picked up the phone and called her mother. She’d heard all about Diahann reconnecting with Leon, and she was pleased for her. She hadn’t seen Leon since she was seven, but she remembered him as a great guy–always looking out for her.

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