Trifecta (23 page)

During the intermission Julia thought that Robin must have
grown tired of calling her.  He had called, each night, for over a month.  He would
undoubtedly give up.  Just to make sure, Julia decided to call her answering machine
and check her phone messages.

She found a telephone in the crowded lobby near the Women's
Room and stood in line for a while.

"Julia.  It's me again.  I don't know what to do. 
I want to talk to you in person and I can't leave California right now.  I finally
talked to the two policemen, John Franks and Bud Hathaway.  I think I know what
happened.  Why you left.  I just want to say one thing.  When Tony, Jay and I made
the bet, I didn't know you.  It was a silly, macho, chauvinist thing to do.  And
I didn't agree with their time limits or anything.  We were all drunk and those
added items were not my idea.  Then, because of the strange circumstances, with
you working for Quijada and me trying to investigate him, we got to know each other
very well.  Very fast.  Sometimes that can lead to erroneous feelings, when something
happens quickly.  We were the lucky ones.  It happened for both of us.  Let's not
throw something so wonderful away."

When Julia got back inside the darkened theater, the play
had already begun again and she had to squeeze in front of people to get back to
her seat.  Alexander took her hand and held it tightly.  "I was worried."

She could feel him gazing at her profile.

"Have you been crying?" Alexander whispered.

Julia shook her head, eyes riveted on the stage where men
in brightly clad medieval clothing were engaged in a violent sword fight.

When Alexander kissed her good-nite Julia decided she might
truly be ruined forever.  Not only was it distasteful, she was totally repulsed. 
His lips felt like a slab from a cold, clammy fish.  She wanted to struggle out
of the arms that enclosed her.  And this was a man she liked.  He was a nice guy. 
She had to fight within herself to keep her arms from pushing him away.

Her irrational reaction of distaste made her angry.  Robin
had really done a number on her and she was furious that her mind was playing tricks
like this, making a normal parting gesture between a man and a woman seem unwholesome
and wrong, when it was perfectly fine for her to kiss someone at the end of a very
pleasant evening.

Julia asked Alexander to come inside.  He followed her
obediently into the apartment, probably believing he was finally going to get lucky,
but she had to tell him to stop seeing her.  It wasn't fair to keep stringing him
along.  Alexander wanted a home with a wife and children.  She could never give
him those things.

As she made coffee in the kitchen she thought that she
was cutting a tie with a good friend because it was the kindest thing to do under
the circumstances.  Something that Robin would never do.  He would try to string
her along with the phone calls each night. 

Julia carried a tray with coffee and desert cookies into
the living room and set it down on the low cocktail table, still thinking about
Robin.  She had to believe the worst of him.  It was her right.  He had played her
for a fool.  She was furious with herself that she had fallen for him so hard, as
though she didn't have control of her own emotions.  Even with another man in her
apartment she couldn't stop thinking about Robin.  He had become a terrible obsession;
a curse with tentacles dug deeply into her heart.

"You're very beautiful tonight, Julia," Alexander
said as she sat down and poured him a cup of coffee.

"Even with the black eye?" Julia asked, glancing
up and smiling at him.  Actually, it was hardly noticeable any more.

"Tragedy must become you," Alexander said, as
he sipped the coffee.  "You've changed.  It's a little puzzling."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about,"
Julia said.  "Besides Brian's death, something else happened in California. 
I'm going to be perfectly honest with you because you're such a good friend."

"I had hoped for more," Alexander murmured.

"I know.  That's why I have to say this.  I haven't
even told Charlotte.  You see, I wasn't in California long, but I met someone and
fell in love."

Alexander looked startled.  "Really?"

"Yes.  At one time I hoped it would happen with you,
because you're a very special man.  And I truly wish the best for you.  I want to
remain your friend, of course."

"This man in California.  Would you tell me about
him?"

Julia smiled.  "I really can't."  She remembered
when she was in bed with Robin for the two minute hug.  They had joked about setting
up Alexander with Robin's former girlfriend, Sarah.  It seemed like a million years
ago.  A time when she was living in a wonderful dream.

"Well, he is going to marry you."  Alexander
didn't even make it a question.

"I don't know about the future," Julia said vaguely. 
She didn't want to tell Alexander the short love affair was over.  It would give
him the idea that there was a possibility of resurrecting their relationship.

"I thought you hated Los Angeles."

"I did," Julia answered, realizing that her feelings
for the place had changed.  "Los Angeles has undesirable parts, plus smog and
earthquakes, but there are wonderful things about the place.  You get used to sunny
skies.  And the beaches are glorious.  Some parts of Los Angeles are very beautiful."

"So you would consider living there?"

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, you're going to have to," Alexander said,
"if you marry the guy."

Julia thought Alexander was looking at her peculiarly. 
"What's wrong?"

"I don't know how you even survive on the amounts
you eat, and you just finished all those cookies."

"Oh."  Julia looked down at the empty plate in
surprise.  She hadn't even noticed she was eating them.

"I know you love Italian food, but you ate all the
pasta and veal, and had two servings of bread and salad.  I've never seen you eat
like that."

"I've been awfully hungry, recently.  Sleepy too. 
I guess it was all the recent trauma."

"You should pamper yourself more, Julia.  You've always
worked much too hard."

When Julia led Alexander to the door she suddenly thought
there might be another reason for the change Alexander had seen.  It would account
for her recent enormous appetite and the peculiar sleepiness.  She remembered in
the heat of passion telling Robin not to leave her, that she couldn't stand it if
he left her now.

J
ulia sat alone and motionless on the black, padded
examining table which was covered with sterile paper.  The room was small, with
antiseptic white walls.  She was practically biting her fingernails in anticipation
of the test result.  There was a slight tremor running through her body and she
held one hand up and watched it shake slightly.  It was silly to be so nervous,
but she couldn't help it.

Dr. Robarts walked briskly into the room.  "The rabbit
died, Julia."

She gazed at the doctor who had brought her into this world. 
He had white hair now, and pudgy pink jowls, a long mournful face, and he was very
kind.  Julia loved him a lot.  He had seen her through the mumps, measles, chicken-pox
and a broken arm.  Later he had been her gynecologist when she insisted she wouldn't
go to any other doctor.

"I thought so," Julia said.

Dr. Robarts sighed, "There are alternatives, you know. 
It's not a procedure I really do, but I know several excellent surgeons.  You're
only a few weeks along."  He shook his head sadly, then stood gazing at her
for a few moments.  "You don't seem surprised.  Or very unhappy."

She had been holding her breath.  Finally Julia smiled,
"Because I want this baby more than anything in the whole world."

He looked at her searchingly, "You are absolutely
certain?"

Julia couldn't stop smiling and nodding at him.  Yes, she
wanted to scream.  I want this baby very, very much.

"Because I usually tell young women that if they're
not ready, it's not fair to bring a child into the world.  It's an awesome responsibility. 
And in your case, young lady, you will have to tell Charlotte, sooner or later,
and that will probably be worse than the labor pains."

Julia burst into a fit of giggles.  He was absolutely right,
but she was so happy she didn't even care.  It was so exciting.  She had a live
little person inside her right now.  It was like a miracle had been visited upon
her and she could hardly wait to feel tiny swimming movements separate from her
own and know it was really a glorious fact.

"I can afford to give this child everything in the
world," Julia said, trying to appear sober and reasonable as she sat, looking
sincerely at her doctor, in the silly crinkly paper gown she had worn for the medical
exam.  "I work only when I want to.  I have the time and the money.  I want
this child."

"Ideally, you could also marry the father, Julia,"
Dr. Robarts said, trying to frown seriously into her happily smiling face and failing
when he saw the joy this baby would bring to her.  He really didn't care about tradition
anyway, just what was best for his patient.  He, too, was mourning the death of
Julia's brother.

"I'm hardly a poor, destitute, unwed mother, Dr. Robarts. 
Statistically, most marriages don't work out and the women end up caring for the
baby.  But this child won't have to go through the trauma of losing a father." 

"Did you do it on purpose?" Dr. Robarts asked. 
"Find the ideal man?  You seem so sure you don't want to marry the father,
and yet you do want the baby."

"It wasn't planned.  But the father is strong, healthy
and very intelligent."  Julia smiled when she said, "Quite a nice male
specimen, in fact.  I feel good about his being the sire, in a genetic sense, even
though I would never marry him.  My feelings about him certainly won't spill over
onto an innocent little baby."

"Don't think ill of me.  I just wanted to make sure,"
Dr. Robarts apologized.

"I could never think anything negative about you,"
Julia said.  She felt like throwing her arms around Dr. Robarts and hugging him
for giving her this delightful news.  "Now, tell me about what to eat, special
vitamins, how much to exercise, and how to live for the next seven months.  I want
to do everything right."

"You always were an overachiever," Dr. Robarts
said, smiling at her seriousness about the job she saw ahead of her; producing a
healthy and perfect baby.

"This is the most important thing that's ever happened
to me," Julia exclaimed.  "I have to do it right."

The doctor grinned at her enthusiasm and went into his
well rehearsed speech for newly pregnant women.

Julia left the medical office with the quiet, happy feeling
that she had a wonderful secret deep inside.  She looked around the hallway carefully,
noting the long corridor was perfectly empty.  She skipped in great, long ecstatic
hops all the way to the elevator.  Not a very sophisticated gait for an expectant
mother, but she was so thrilled she felt she would burst if she didn't express it
in some physical manner.  As she waited for the elevator she noted that she was
starving.  It was like a big empty well had opened inside her, demanding to be filled. 
That made her happy, too.  She could hardly wait to go to the store and get some
food to fill the cravings.  She wanted pickles, ice cream, matza ball soup and a
greasy hamburger with all the trimmings.  Plus French fries, of course.  Dr. Robarts
had said she was a little too thin.  Well, she was going to gain a mountain of weight,
right in front of her, and she couldn't wait.

Julia was laden down with gourmet treats for herself when
she fumbled in her handbag for the keys to her apartment.  Finally, she put down
one grocery bag and opened the door, still holding another full bag.  Julia knew
she bought too much, that it had been a mistake to shop for food when she was starving,
but she didn't care.  This baby was going to be well nourished before it came into
the world.

As Julia staggered into the apartment she put the bag she
was holding on the marble floor and turned to get the other one.  But something
was terribly wrong.  She had seen it as she turned, in one swift moment, like a
nightmare barely glimpsed in the light of day.

Julia turned back and looked down the entrance hallway
into the living room.  She was so horrified she dropped the bag, stepped around
it and walked slowly down the long hallway toward the bright front room.  She was
aware of thinking that she should run and call the police.  One should not walk
into an unknown situation, but she was so appalled she had to see the devastation
herself, first.

All her beautiful Boston ferns, which had been hanging
from the ceiling in the corners of the living room had been torn down and dirt and
leaves were strewn about on the beige carpeting and over her furnishings.  The large
delicate painting over the couch had been ripped from the wall and was on top of
her broken glass cocktail table.  Her graceful and fragile chairs were now splintered,
the cushion's beautiful brocade material slashed so that the stuffing showed.  Even
her bright red draperies had been ripped from around the windows.  It looked like
blood was smeared on the walls.

Julia ran to the computer, which was sitting on a desk
by the large front windows facing the street.  Already she could see that the screen
had been smashed.  It looked like the whole computer was ruined.  Hit by something
heavy and blunt so that the metal casing was dented so thoroughly that she knew
it was only a useless pile of junk now.  The manuscript pages were also torn and
strewn about as though a hurricane had blown through the apartment.

Julia went slowly into the kitchen.  All the cabinets had
been opened and everything was thrown on the floor.  She crunched over broken glass
and realized she was crying.  Then she turned and went to the bathroom.  It was
a mess, too.  The large mirror above the sink was cracked, with splinters of glass
all over the sink and the floor.  Her heart was beating wildly, and she thought,
numbly, that she shouldn't get so upset.  It was bad for the baby.

Finally, Julia walked tentatively into the bedroom.  It
looked untouched and she breathed a deep sigh of relief, until she looked at the
bed.  In the middle of her blue satin quilt was the bloody carcass of a very small
animal.

Julia ran into the bathroom and knelt down by the toilet
in case she was going to be sick.  Her mind told her a little vomit on top of everything
else was not a big deal in this mess. 

As she looked down she noticed even the toilet seat had
been cracked.  This finally brought her to her senses and she started getting angry. 
They must have used baseball bats.

She got up from her kneeling position and walked resolutely
to the front door and closed it.  There was no doubt in her mind she was alone. 
Whoever had caused this destruction was long gone. 

Then she went into her bedroom, averting her gaze from
the tiny dead thing on the bed, and knelt down in the corner of her room.  She pulled
up the edge of the carpet and looked at her floor safe.  It seemed untouched.  She
quickly spun the dial and peered down inside.  All of her jewelry was there, in
small silk pouches.  And, most important to her right now, the computer discs with
all the backed up material that she stored there every night.  The manuscript about
Quijada. 

Julia kept her really valuable cameras in the safe.  She
pulled a camera out and put the strap around her neck.  When she stood up, she started
taking pictures of each room in her house, being very careful not to touch anything. 
Then she called the police.

"Listen, very carefully," Robin said, gazing
at the narrow, pocked, ferret-faced Juan Carlos.  "If you promise to be a witness
for the prosecution, as we have just discussed, against Aaron Quijada, I will drop
all charges against you.  Right now you are in very serious trouble.  You broke
into my property.  There are assault charges.  Illegal weapons.  Physical drug evidence. 
You will not leave jail for a long, long time."

They were sitting in a small interrogation room at the
county jail in Los Angeles.  Tony, from the D.A.'s office, was sitting beside Robin. 
He was recording this meeting. 

Juan Carlos was shakily smoking a cigarette on the other
side of the table.  He was nervous and visibly trembling.  Beside him was a young,
court appointed lawyer, named Ed Riker. 

Juan had been languishing in jail for a few weeks, waiting
for a grand jury indictment on the charges brought up against him when he had been
caught in Robin's cabin at Lake Arrowhead.  It had been Robin's idea to let him
sweat it out for a while before bringing him a deal.

"I get out on bail?" Juan Carlos asked, looking
at the Assistant District Attorney.

"Too dangerous," Tony said, shaking his head. 

Juan Carlos knew the prosecutor was hinting about the possibility
of Quijada's retribution.  If he found that Juan Carlos was out of jail, it would
mean that Juan had made a deal.

"You will have to remain in jail for a while.  Otherwise
Quijada will be suspicious," Juan's lawyer, Ed Riker said.  He was a small
man, barely out of law school, with sparse wispy blond hair.  He had a soft voice
and the habit of leaning and whispering advice in his client's ear.

"And you must know by now that Quijada's going down,"
Robin said sternly.  "You better get off the sinking boat, like all the others,
ratting Quijada out.  This is your only chance to keep from spending years in jail."

"I get immunity from any kind of smuggling charges,
too," Juan Carlos said looking coolly at Tony.  He was dealing now, and his
posture had straightened up.  Ed Riker leaned to whisper something to Juan and he
rubbed his ear, as if the whispering breath tickled him annoyingly.

"You drive a hard bargain," Tony said, leaning
back in his chair as though deliberating.  The District Attorney's office had  decided
to give Juan Carlos freedom in return for his testimony.  They knew he would move
on in his life of petty crime.  They would eventually catch him again.  But Quijada
was an enormous shark they wanted badly.

Tony sat still, head cocked to one side, as if he was in
deep thought for a couple of minutes. "Yes," he said, as if he had finally
decided Juan's fate.  "In this case we will give you immunity on everything. 
You just have to stay in jail until the situation is resolved."

"And if I give evidence?  How do I know you won't
back out on the deal?" Juan asked.

"Your lawyer is right here with you, listening,"
Tony said.  "This meeting is being recorded.  Mr. Riker will get a copy of
the transcript, and anything we negotiate will be on the tape."

"I don't know," Juan said.  He scratched his
dirty hair.

"Look," Robin said.  "We have you on burglary. 
There's assault.  The physical tests results showed ingestion of illegal substances..."

"Just a little coke," Juan interjected indignantly.

"Whatever," Robin continued, "you're not
getting out.  This is your third arrest.  The Three Strikes Law says they'll throw
away the key."

"That bitch stole from Mr. Quijada.  I was just trying
to get his stuff back."

Juan's lawyer whispered angrily at Juan to shut up.

"Fine.  Then you're going away for life," Tony
said.  "We know you worked on procuring cocaine, heroin, and meth amphetamine
from Mexico.  Mike will to testify against you on the burglary.  You're linked,
through several witnesses, with Quijada's drug cartel."

Robin and Tony stood up, obviously prepared to leave. 
Robin shrugged into his jacket.

Juan's lawyer, Ed Riker, was whispering frantically to
the skinny thug to take the District Attorney's offer.  It was Juan Carlos' only
chance of beating the charges.

"Sit down.  Sit down.  We aren't finished," Juan
said finally.  "If Quijada beats this rap, I'm dead meat."

Robin reached over and very deliberately turned off the
recording machine.  "There is a way we can keep Quijada in jail for life. 
Then you'll have protection against him ever coming after you."

"How?" Juan asked.

"It's another matter.  There was a writer working
for Aaron Quijada.  His name was Brian Monay.  We believe he was murdered on a direct
order from Aaron Quijada.  If we get Quijada up on murder charges, with everything
else, he'll rot in jail."