Suspicious Circumstances (11 page)

‘It was two days ago,’ said Ronnie. ‘She just showed up at the house in the morning, all lovely dimpled contrition and apologies. She knew it was
frightful
to
thrust
herself on me at such an unhappy time, but the
absurdest
thing! She happened to have lent Norma her divine diet book,
Eat Away Calories
, weeks ago at a party, and — how embarrassing! — it was signed by the author and the author was corning to lunch. Of course, it was a preposterous ruse and I knew it. But I let her go upstairs to look for the book. She was gone for hours and I thought, My God, what is she up to? I rushed upstairs and there she was with the book in her hand. And then, right there in Norma’s bedroom, that’s where the squeeze came. But I didn’t give in. Maybe I should have, but blackmail is something that makes me snap and I snapped again and I screamed, ‘You play Ninon and turn her into a terrible Memsahib from Poona? Are you out of your mind? Anny plays Ninon and, if you don’t like it, raise all the stink in the world. Who cares? It’s only the uncorroborated word of one spiteful, ageing, bankrupt, ex-English motion-picture actress. Get out. Get out of here.’ And I literally hurled her out of the house and, as I was hurling, all the cobra came out in her and she screamed, ‘You wait. Anny murdered Norma to get that part. You know it and I know it. And I’ll tell the police. I’ll …’

‘She did,’ I broke in because, of course, the lovely shell-pink anonymous letter had fallen into place.

Ronnie spun around to me and I told them everything about Inspector Robinson.

For a moment Ronnie looked aghast. ‘But it’s all right? I mean, everything’s okay now with Inspector Robinson?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

He gave a huge sigh and then fury started jumping around in his eyes. ‘But to think of it! How low can a woman sink? Writing anonymous letters to the police. I never dreamed …’

‘But, Ronnie,’ I said, ‘what happened then? What’s the other thing Sylvia knows?’

‘Oh, God,’ he said. ‘Oh, God. That happened today. I wasn’t worrying. I was sure I’d called her bluff, that it would all be okay, that there’d be a little peace. That’s why I hadn’t even told you, Anny. And then — then, this afternoon just about twenty minutes before you all arrived, the phone rang and it was Sylvia. You should have heard her. Little merry bells were tinkling all over her voice. “Ronnie, darling, I was thinking of going down to see Paul Denker this afternoon.” Paul Denker, you know, is that frightful crooked lawyer of hers on the Strip. “Yes, darling,” she said, “and I was wondering whether dear Mr Denker mightn’t be interested in your little secret merger with …” ’

The undebonair pink flush was back. ‘And she mentioned the name of the company. I can’t tell you what it is, Anny not even you. But it’s a deal. Not a bit crooked, of course, not a bit. But it isn’t settled and there are millions of dollars involved and if at the moment the slightest hint of it was to break, worst of all to that appalling crook, Denker …! I couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t have known. No one could possibly have known. But she did. Then the terrible silver bells tinkled again and she said, “So don’t you think it would be cozier if I came to the funeral with you instead and then after the funeral we can discuss my lovely Ninon again?” ’

A deep, sepulchral groan was wrenched from him. ‘I was licked. I knew it. Not just you, Anny darling, and the terrible

scandal for you, but the merger too! The boa-constrictor, the dreadful anaconda. And there at the cemetery, of course, she wasn’t going to wait and give me time to catch my breath. You there, Gloria there, Inspector Robinson there — she saw the ideal moment and she struck … Anny, dearest, you do see. You must see. She had me clutched by the throat.’

The limousine was in familiar territory now. We were swinging into the canyon where our so-called home was situated. Suddenly Ronnie grabbed over me for Mother’s hand.

‘Anny, darling, it’s an unqualified disaster. But I did my best. At the risk of plunging us all into hideous scandals, I clung grimly on so that you should play the part. But there it wasn’t to be. Anny, Anny, darling, please don’t feel bad. What is one disappointment? There will be other movies and, if there aren’t, there are so many, many beautiful things in life. I can show them to you, all of them. Oh, Anny, Anny, darling, marry me.’

When he said that he looked absurd but utterly sincere. And Mother, letting him hold her hand, warm and friendly and only the tiniest bit absent-minded, looked the Lovely Selfless Angel which I knew, in my innermost heart and against all reason, that she
almost was
.

Wasn’t it hideously diseased of me to go on suspecting her of being a blood-soaked Lady Macbeth who had grabbed for the prize and lost out? I would have given anything to have been able to think so and just become an ordinary son with an ordinary mother again. But I couldn’t. That disastrous image of Mother creeping after Norma simply wouldn’t fade out of my mind.

Ronnie was still almost in my lap as he leaned over me towards Mother.

‘Anny, I’ll wait. Three months, six months, a year, whatever time you think it should be, but marry me.’

As he said that, the limousine, swinging rather abruptly into our drive, threw us all into an inextricable knot of arms and legs.

Mother finally disengaged herself, plucking daintily at the folds of her skirt. Then, with the sweetest and most sorrowful smile, she said, ‘Ronnie, darling, it’s divine of you to ask me again and I absolutely adore you. But you must know by now how I feel about marriage.’

I thought she might go into her well-known speech about being married to her public and needing all her private affection for me and Uncle Hans and Pam and Gino, but she didn’t. She merely gave him the butterfly hand on the knee. ‘My poor Ronnie, I do wish you could learn to be a little more positive. Nothing truly catastrophic has happened. Your wonderful clever merger will go through now without any interference from that horrid little Mr Denker. And as for the picture, Sylvia may not be exactly my idea of Ninon or yours, and certainly it was very very naughty of her to do what she did, although, when you think of the state of her career, you can understand why. Even so, the public used to adore her. They might adore her again. And now she’s got her diet book back, I’m sure she’ll be able to take off a lot of that slack flesh. You must just be terribly careful, dear, not to let her back into your life. Make it a business arrangement strictly a business arrangement.’

Having settled that problem, Mother continued, ‘And as for me, Ronnie, it’s sweet of you to be afraid I’ll feel disappointed. I would have played Ninon. Of course I would have been proud to play her for your sake and for Norma. But speaking absolutely frankly, I’m not quite sure that it’s exactly the right part. Don’t misunderstand me, darling, I’m sure it’ll make a divine picture. But … well, I can’t help feeling the tiniest bit relieved that now I’ll be free to do something a little different, a little more stimulating.’

Like what? I thought. Scrubbing floors? But I had to hand it to her. Blood-soaked or no, she had managed to save enough face to equip the entire Japanese nation for generations to come.

Delight would have approved of my mouth because by then it was hanging wide open.

Mother’s hand, still on Ronnie’s knee, played a little inaudible tune — probably her bit of Grieg.

‘So, dearest Ronnie, please believe me, there’s nothing to worry about. The moment we get indoors, Nickie will fix you some lovely martinis at the pool house. You’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel. And after that, those dear, loyal, overworked servants are dying to go to a movie. I know they are. So I’ll bustle them off and make us a delicious little supper.’

Ronnie must have become as used to being turned down by Mother as to being given sage advice, for he merely looked exhausted and moronic with adoration and left it at that. For a few moments, as the limousine slid to a stop outside the porticoed front steps where Tray was surlily scratching his ear, we all sat in silence.

Then very meekly Ronnie said, ‘Anny dear, since you’re always so wonderful, would you do me just one more favor?’

‘Of course, dear. What is it?’

‘My stomach. A little unsettled. Please. Not another fondue. Not tonight.’

For a second Mother looked extremely cross, then she decided to be BIG.

‘very well,’ she said, withdrawing the butterfly hand and privileging me with it instead. ‘Blanquette de veau.’

I made Ronnie martinis at the pool house, but they didn’t do anything for him. We sat glooming at each other on voodoo drums, and my desire to be anywhere else in the world came out as a violent nostalgia for Monique. Less than forty-eight hours! Was it possible that only two days ago there we had been, young, carefree, happy children in love? The moment I heard the others in the hall, which meant politeness no longer demanded my playing host, I hurried upstairs, found my own room with some difficulty and settled down at the desk in front of the photographs of Mother and my father which I’d meant to take with me to Paris but had forgotten. The notepaper which Mother had provided for me had
DARRYL ZANUCK
printed in huge letters across the top. I crossed it out. For one traitorous moment a quite unexpected image of Delight Schmidt rose up. I stamped on it and began:

‘Monique, chérie…’

The simple act of writing Monique’s name was enough to remind me that she was the cutest, sexiest, most inspirational girl in the world and I scribbled on, losing myself in that totally different, innocent Parisian existence where no one either did or didn’t push anyone else, where the nearest approach to Mother was a face on the silver screen batting eyelashes at long-forgotten leading men.

Suddenly, a voice behind me said, ‘Darryl-Zanuck-crossed-out-Monique-chérie. So that’s the tiny little escapade! Oh, dear, me again! Blabbermouth — snooper. I have a character constructed entirely from mud.’

I dropped the pen and spun around, belatedly covering the letter with my arm. Delight Schmidt, out of her widow’s weeds into a blouse and skirt, was standing behind me with a lot of Southern Californian evening sunshine sparkling all over the Carole-Lombard-revival hair-do.

‘Oh, Nicholas, I do apologize. All day you’ve been feeling miserable about Monique-chérie and there I’ve been trying to thrust my personality in your teeth. I get that way sometimes. It must be over-compensation or something for being penniless and an orphan and an unsuccessful dancer and dozens of other squalid things. But I can be bearable, honestly I can. Please be patient and you’ll find out.’

Her eyes were very green and the lashes were very long. Paris started floating back again to the other side of the Atlantic.

‘Hello,’ I said.

A warm, grateful smile came. ‘Oh, Nicholas, you’ve forgiven me. Then you’ll help me, won’t you? You’ll save me from this agonizing suspense. What’s going on around here? Why is Sylvia La Mann playing Ninon? Why is Ronnie glowering on a voodoo drum? Why is your mother preparing a delicious little supper in the kitchen? And what, what, what is the Secret of the Night of the Plunge? Oh, Nicholas, there’s nothing so tight-lipped as a reformed blabbermouth. It’s like an A. A. I swear I won’t breathe a word. Trust me, Nicholas, tell me.’

She took both my hands and pulled me over on to the bed, which was the only place where two people could sit together.

It was frail of me, I suppose, and not necessarily the method of ‘handling’ her which Pam would have chosen. But I felt ashamed for having suspected her of writing Sylvia’s anonymous letter and, on top of that, came an overpowering urge to confide in someone who wasn’t going to give me the old familiar ‘Nickie, you monstrous brat’ routine.

Almost before I realized what I was doing, I started telling her, and the whole thing came tumbling out. She listened in silence and, when I had finished, she was gazing at me from great saucer eyes.

‘Oh, Nicholas, you think she did it. You think Anny pushed Norma down the stairs!’

It’s one thing having suspicions; it’s another thing having someone put them as baldly as that into words.

‘For pity’s sake, I never said …’

‘But that’s what you think. You think she had it planned from the beginning … All that lovely friendship for Norma just to get her teeth into Ronnie, knowing all the time that Norma could never be parted from the gin bottle and that she’d end up being Ninon herself! And then, at the crucial moment — when there was no other way out — she pushed. Oh, Nicholas, if she did, what daring!’ For a moment she looked awed, then her mood darkened. ‘But think of the irony that came later. There she was steeped in gore, ready to snatch the guilty prize — Ninon, money, fame, a new career and wham! Look who hurtles in and tears off Ninon, money, fame, a new career! Sylvia La Mann.’

She turned to me on the bed. ‘It’s positively Greek. Sophocles would purr. Aeschylus would run not walk to the nearest papyrus or whatever he wrote on.’

It should have been getting steadily more hair-raising, but oddly enough it wasn’t. Somehow she had transformed it all into a realm of fantasy where everything could be faced and yet not faced. It was like a game — like Tot, and for the first time since I’d arrived home I felt almost relaxed.

She fell back on the bed then, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘Nicholas.’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t be stuffy. If it’s there, it’s there. There’s nothing you can do about it. So — revel in it. Who else has a Mother like that? Oh, Nicholas, dear, I’ll help you appreciate her. We’ll make a pact, found an Anny Rood For Murderess Society.’

I’d fallen back on the bed too. Hers wasn’t the sort of morality which would have gone over big at St Cecil's. But it was curiously comforting. So was Delight’s nearness. I twisted my body so that our faces were almost touching. By then Paris was even further away than Paris — somewhere way off in the steppes of Central Asia. Monique had been inspirational, but could she have been as inspirational as this? And did she have green eyes? Or red hair? I found myself putting my arms around Delight and moving my lips along her cheek.

‘Delight.’