Time Out of Mind (22 page)

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Authors: John R. Maxim

Tags: #Horror, #General, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Memory, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Time Travel

BOOK: Time Out of Mind
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Jonathan”—the older man idly stirred the ice cubes in
his drink—”I appreciate your candor. But that was hardly
what you'd call facing up to a problem.”

With due respect, you still don't get it. The memories
were real. I know that now more than ever. Who was going
to help me with a problem like that? As I've already asked
Gwen, how many years and thousands of dollars, how
many blind alleys would I have to go down, before some
one even began to believe me?”

If I were to call a friend of mine—”

Absolutely not,” Corbin interrupted. “This is as far as
it goes.”

Then why are you even telling me?”

Because Gwen asked me to try to track this thing down, with her, and she thought you might be able to help us find
out whether the things I seem to remember could actually
have happened. May I ask, by the way, how much she's told you?”

That some very vivid ancestral memories seem to have surfaced in you, that you're understandably frightened by them, that they've contributed to some bizarre behavior on
your part, and that a nineteenth-century strumpet named
Margaret seems to have been her rival for your affections
right along.”

I did not say that.” Gwen reddened.

Which part?” Sturdevant asked. “The last?”

The personal part.” She glanced at Corbin. ”I don't
want Jonathan to think I told you anything personal.” Certa
inly not that they were screwing on her living room rug and Jonathan thought she was Margaret.

It's okay.” Corbin touched her hand.

It's not okay. Some things are private and should re
main so.” She looked at her uncle as if for confirmation of
the reasonableness of her position.

Are you looking for me to agree with you?” Sturdevant
asked her.

I expect you to, yes. I do have a personal life and my
affections have nothing to do with the problem at hand.”

I'm afraid they do, sweetheart. Margaret is why we
broke up last year. I just didn't understand it then. I do now
and I don't mind talking about it.”

Well I do mind, damn it. Not in front of family.”
Sturdevant reached a hand to her shoulder to keep her from rising in her chair. “Jonathan,” he asked, “is there a
telephone call you'd like to make? Or perhaps you want to
freshen up.”

 


Shit!” Lesko muttered. Corbin was on his feet and
moving in the direction of the lobby washrooms. Black Homburg, the jerk, had picked a spot in between to watch
from. Asshole! Bad enough you stand there looking like you're going to slide down the wall any minute. But when
you're watching someone in a restaurant you don't watch
from where he has to step over you when he feels like
going to the John. It's a rule.

Lesko, standing near the fountain exit, rolled his eyes as
Black Homburg raised a bony hand to the side of his face
and tried to make himself small behind a pillar. Lesko held
his breath as Corbin approached and then, incredibly,
passed him by. The ex-cop let out a sigh. Thank God for
protecting drunks and fools. Or for whatever is so heavy on the Corbin guy's mind that he hardly knows where he is. Which reminds me
...

He sidled over to the stand of a bell captain who had
smiled and waved at the big man with Corbin when he
spotted him at the table.

Excuse me.”

Sir?”

You know how it is when you see a face and you can’t place it?

Yes, sir.”

There's a big guy there, white hair. I think I seen him
in the papers. You waved at him before.”

You're a cop, right?”

Lesko sighed again. “What is it? I give off a scent?”
But he only pretended to be surprised. Cops and priests.
No matter how they dress, no matter where they are, some
body always knows.

The bell captain shrugged. “After I ruled out ballet dan
cer and brain surgeon I kind of settled on cop. Is there a
beef here?’'

Nothin’ much. Anyway, it's not him. I just wondered.”
Lesko looked away and took a step backward to show that
his interest had passed.

Maybe you seen him in the papers,” the bell captain
offered. “He's into a lot of sports stuff. The Olympics. That's Dr. Sturdevant.”

Oh yeah.'' Lesko actually did remember. “Henry,
Harry, something like that, right?”

Harry.” The bell captain looked toward Sturdevant’s
table and chuckled. “He was in here with Howard Cosell
a couple weeks ago. People kept going over to the table to
say hello and it was always to Dr. Sturdevant. You could
see Cosell getting all pissed off.”

Yeah.” Lesko smiled. “Speaking of sports, what did
the Knicks do this afternoon?”

Five-point favorites over the Celtics, they go down by
twenty-two. You want to make a bust, go put the cuffs on
Larry Bird. Shoot him, you get a medal.”

God damn it.” Lesko's face turned mean.

What's the matter? You bet the rent money?”

God damn it.” Lesko stepped farther toward the Palm Court. Black Homburg was gone.
Harry Sturdevant spread some orange preserves over a scone and handed it to Gwen Leamas. “Now,” he said,
“why are you behaving this way?”

I told you. Some things are personal.”

A man you obviously hold in high regard comes
here at your request to risk being thought a raving lunatic
by a comparative stranger, and you tell me the conversa
tion's getting too personal where you're concerned?”

Women do take it personally, Uncle Harry, when they
ask a man to marry them, are turned down, and then that
rejection becomes a matter for public discussion. God
knows we've discussed it enough privately.”

And you thought he was going to wash the same linen
in front of me.”

He was.”

The devil he was. The man's apparently had a fixation
all his life that he did not understand. It has influenced his life far more than he knows. It doubtless would have af
fected his choice of a marriage partner or even whether to
marry at all. When you pressed him on the subject, he prob
ably stalled as long as he could to avoid backing off en
tirely. Whatever reasons he might have given you had nothing to do with the real ones.”

Some of the reasons hurt,” Gwen said quietly.

He's already acknowledged they were stupid. Would
you like me to tell you what some of them were?’'

Not really. No.”

That's fine, because they were irrelevant and, what's
more, you knew it. You probably suggested counseling. He
declined for the same reasons he won't see a psychiatrist
now, which have considerable merit by the way.”

Gwen was listening to his words, but her mind was replaying a montage of all the times they'd been together,
especially in bed, making love, when she was sure that Jonathan was somewhere else.


Margaret's been there all along, hasn't she?” she
asked.

Probably on and off, but yes.”

Why couldn't he have told me?”


According to you, she never even had a name before yesterday. What could he have said that you'd have under
stood?”


Going on three years now”—Gwen chewed her lip—
“he's been .. . he's been with me but he's been making
love to Margaret. How am 1 supposed to live with that?”

You're not, because it's nonsense.”

It's not nonsense. It happened last night.”


And it was only last night, you tell me, that he began
to know anything about her. Most normal people have fan
tasy sex partners from time to time, yourself, Gwen dear,
probably included. But this is nothing like that. Margaret
has been around since Jonathan was a boy. To the boy, she
was probably an idealized mother or older sister. To the
man, she became a dream lover. But don't assume he revels in private sexual romps with this creature. Jonathan hates
these intrusions, I promise you. They trouble him very
deeply. I expect he's especially troubled by his ambivalence
toward her.”

Gwen nodded distantly. “He said that. He said he wanted
to make love to her but that it seemed terribly wrong.”

Idealized mother to idealized lover. That's conflict
enough for—” He stopped when Gwen put her hand on
his.

How do we...How does he get rid of her?” she
asked.

You were right the first time.”

Can we?”

Finding out who she was should help.”

You say that as if you believe she was real.”

Don't you?”

After today I do. Especially after today.”
Corbin, having washed and rewashed his hands, and having
thoroughly browsed all the shop windows lining the south
wall of the Plaza lobby, paced self-consciously along the
plant-lined border of the Palm Court, unsure whether to
return to the table or to await a signaled invitation.
He knew that they were talking about Margaret. Twice
now, no mistake, he'd seen the name form on Gwen's lips.
He could also see that she was listening much more than she was talking, which meant she'd already told her uncle almost
everything this morning on the phone. Corbin didn't mind.
He minded that Gwen seemed to have been crying a minute ago, but as for Harry Sturdevant's knowing, well, at least he doesn’t look like he’s telling her to get away from this nut case
as fast as her long English legs will carry her.
Sturdevant’ s eyebrows arched steadily higher as he scanned
the four pages of scribbled notes Gwen had placed in front of him.

All this happened today?” he asked.

Most of it in the past two hours.”

And all triggered by the sight of the Osborne Apart
ments. You say that on two occasions Jonathan was fully
taken over by this other personality.”

More than twice,” Gwen told him. “It happened for a
minute or so just after we left my building.” She pointed
to the place in her notes.

I see. Trees, overhead wires, and a saloon called O'Neill's, none of which exist.”

Then there was that business about the Waldorf-
Astoria, and downing this huge breakfast after trying to
order some dishes that I'm not even sure he likes.”

Finnan haddie and kippered herring,” Sturdevant
noted.

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