Eight months later, at four a.m. in early February, Marianne's labor pains began prematurely. Her moans awakened Tony.
He began hurriedly dressing. 'Don't worry, darling. I'll have you at the hospital in no time.'
The pains were agonizing. 'Please hurry.'
She wondered whether she should have told Tony about her conversations with Dr. Harley. No, Kate had been right. It was her decision to make. Life was so wonderful that God would not let anything bad happen to her.
When Marianne and Tony arrived at the hospital, everything was in readiness. Tony was escorted to a waiting room. Marianne was taken into an examining room. The obstetrician, Dr. Mattson, took Marianne's blood pressure. He frowned and took it again. He looked up and said to his nurse, 'Get her into the operating room— fast!'
Tony was at the cigarette machine in the hospital corridor when a voice behind him said, 'Well, well, if it isn't Rembrandt.' Tony turned. He recognized the man who had been with Dominique in front of her apartment building. What had she called him? Ben. The man was staring at Tony, an antagonistic expression on his face. Jealousy? What had Dominique told him? At that moment, Dominique appeared. She said to Ben, 'The nurse said Michelline is in intensive care. We'll come—' She saw Tony, and stopped.
'Tony! What are you doing here?'
'My wife is having a baby.'
'Did your mother arrange it?' Ben asked.
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Dominique told me your mother arranges everything for you, sonny.'
'Ben! Stop it!'
'Why? It's the truth, isn't it, baby? Isn't that what you said?'
Tony turned to Dominique. 'What is he talking about?'
'Nothing,' she said quickly. 'Ben, let's get out of here.'
But Ben was enjoying himself. 'I wish I had a mother like yours, buddy boy. You want a beautiful model to sleep with, she buys you one. You want to have an art exhibition in Paris, she arranges it for you. You—'
'You're crazy.'
'Am I?' Ben turned to Dominique. 'Doesn't he know?'
'Don't I know what?' Tony demanded.
'Nothing, Tony.'
'He said my mother arranged the exhibition in Paris. That's a lie, isn't it?' He saw the expression on Dominique's face. 'Isn't it?'
'No,' Dominique said reluctantly.
'You mean she had to pay Goerg to—to show my paintings?'
'Tony, he really liked your paintings.'
'Tell him about the art critic,' Ben urged.
'That's enough, Ben!' Dominique turned to go. Tony grabbed her arm. 'Wait! What about him? Did my mother arrange for him to be at the exhibit?'
'Yes.' Dominique's voice had dropped to a whisper.
'But he hated my paintings.'
She could hear the pain in his voice. 'No, Tony. He didn't. Andre d'Usseau told your mother you could have become a great artist.'
And he was face to face with the unbelievable. 'My mother paid d'Usseau to destroy me?'
'Not to destroy you. She believed she was doing it for your own good.'
The enormity of what his mother had done was staggering. Everything she had told him was a lie. She had never intended to let him live his own life. And Andre d'Usseau! How could a man like that be bought? But of course Kate would know the price of any man. Wilde could have been referring to Kate when he talked of someone who knew the price of everything, the value of nothing. Everything had always been for the company. And the company was Kate Blackwell. Tony turned and walked blindly down the corridor.
In the operating room, the doctors were fighting desperately to save Marianne's life. Her blood pressure was alarmingly low, and her heartbeat was erratic. She was given oxygen and a blood transfusion, but it was useless. Marianne was unconscious from a cerebral hemorrhage when the first baby was delivered, and dead three minutes later when the second twin was taken.
Tony heard a voice calling, 'Mr. Blackwell.' He turned. Dr. Mattson was at his side.
'You have two beautiful, healthy twin daughters, Mr. Black-well.'
Tony saw the look in his eyes. 'Marianne—she's all right, isn't she?'
Dr. Mattson took a deep breath. 'I'm so sorry. We did everything we could. She died on the—'
'She what?' It was a scream. Tony grabbed Dr. Mattson's lapels and shook him. 'You're lying! She's not dead.'
'Mr. Blackwell—'
'Where is she? I want to see her.'
'You can't go in just now. They're preparing her—'
Tony cried out, 'You killed her, you bastard! You killed her.' He began attacking the doctor. Two interns hurried in and grabbed Tony's arms.
'Now take it easy, Mr. Blackwell.'
Tony fought like a madman. 'I want to see my wife!'
Dr. John Harley hurried up to the group. 'Let him go,' he commanded. 'Leave us alone.'
Dr. Mattson and the interns left. Tony was weeping brokenly. 'John, they k-killed Marianne. They m-murdered her.'
'She's dead, Tony, and I'm sorry. But no one murdered her. I told her months ago if she went ahead with this pregnancy it could kill her.'
It took a long moment for the words to sink in. 'What are you talking about?'
'Marianne didn't tell you? Your mother didn't say anything?'
Tony was staring at him, his eyes uncomprehending. 'My mother?'
'She thought I was being an alarmist. She advised Marianne to go ahead with it. I'm so sorry, Tony. I've seen the twins. They're beautiful. Wouldn't you like to—?'
Tony was gone.
Kate's butler opened the door for Tony.
'Good morning, Mr. Blackwell.'
'Good morning, Lester.'
The butler took in Tony's disheveled appearance. 'Is everything all right, sir?'
'Everything is fine. Would you make me a cup of coffee, Lester?'
'Certainly, sir.'
Tony watched the butler move toward the kitchen. Now, Tony, the voice in his head commanded.
Yes. Now. Tony turned and walked into the trophy room. He went to the cabinet that held the gun collection, and he stared at the gleaming array of instruments of death.
Open the cabinet, Tony.
He opened it. He selected a revolver from the gun rack and checked the barrel to make sure it was loaded.
She'll be upstairs, Tony.
Tony turned and started up the stairs. He knew now that it was not his mother's fault that she was evil. She was possessed, and he was going to cure her. The company had taken her soul, and Kate was not responsible for what she did. His mother and the company had become one, and when he killed her, the company would die.
He was outside Kate's bedroom door.
Open the door, the voice commanded.
Tony opened the door. Kate was dressing in front of a mirror when she heard the door open.
'Tony! What on earth—'
He carefully aimed the gun at her and began squeezing the trigger.
