The right of primogeniture—the claim of the first-born to a family title or estate—is deeply rooted in history. Among royal families in Europe a high official is present at every birth of a possible heir to a queen or princess so that should twins be born, the right of succession will not be in dispute. Dr. Mattson was careful to note which twin had been delivered first.
Everyone agreed that the Blackwell twins were the most beautiful babies they had ever seen. They were healthy and unusually lively, and the nurses at the hospital kept finding excuses to go in and look at them. Part of the fascination, although none of the nurses would have admitted it, was the mysterious stories that were circulating about the twins' family. Their mother had died during childbirth. The twins' father had disappeared, and there were rumors he had murdered his mother, but no one was able to substantiate the reports. There was nothing about it in the newspapers, save for a brief item that Tony Blackwell had suffered a nervous breakdown over the death of his wife and was in seclusion. When the press tried to question Dr. Harley. he gave them a brusque, 'No comment.'
The past few days had been hell for John Harley. As long as he lived, he would remember the scene when he reached Kate Blackwell's bedroom after a frantic phone call from the butler. Kate was lying on the floor in a coma, bullet wounds in her neck and chest, her blood spilling onto the white rug. Tony was going through her closets, slashing his mother's clothes to shreds with a pair of scissors.
Dr. Harley took one quick look at Kate and hurriedly telephoned for an ambulance. He knelt at Kate's side and felt her pulse. It was weak and thready, and her face was turning blue. She was going into shock. He swiftly gave her an injection of adrenaline and sodium bicarbonate.
'What happened?' Dr. Harley asked.
The butler was soaked in perspiration. 'I—I don't know. Mr. Blackwell asked me to make him some coffee. I was in the kitchen when I heard the sound of gunfire. I ran upstairs and found Mrs. Blackwell on the floor, like this. Mr. Blackwell was standing over her, saying, 'It can't hurt you anymore, Mother. I killed it.' And he went into the closet and started cutting her dresses.'
Dr. Harley turned to Tony. 'What are you doing, Tony?'
A savage slash. 'I'm helping Mother. I'm destroying the company. It killed Marianne, you know.' He continued slashing at the dresses in Kate's closet.
Kate was rushed to the emergency ward of a midtown private hospital owned by Kruger-Brent, Ltd. She was given four blood transfusions during the operation to remove the bullets.
It took three male nurses to force Tony into an ambulance, and it was only after Dr. Harley gave him an injection that Tony was quiet. A police unit had responded to the ambulance call, and Dr. Harley summoned Brad Rogers to deal with them. Through means that Dr. Harley did not understand, there was no mention in the media of the shooting.
Dr. Harley went to the hospital to visit Kate in intensive care. Her first words were a whispered, 'Where's my son?'
'He's being taken care of, Kate. He's all right.'
Tony had been taken to a private sanitarium in Connecticut.
'John, why did he try to kill me? Why?' The anguish in her voice was unbearable.
'He blames you for Marianne's death.'
'That's insane!'
John Harley made no comment.
He blames you for Marianne's death.
Long after Dr. Harley had left, Kate lay there, refusing to accept those words. She had loved Marianne because she made Tony happy. Everything I have done has been for you, my son. All my dreams were for you. How could you not know that? And he hated her so much he had tried to kill her. She was filled with such a deep agony that she wanted to die. But she would not let herself die. She had done what was right. They were wrong. Tony was a weakling. They had all been weaklings. Her father had been too weak to face his son's death. Her mother had been too weak to face life alone. But I am not weak, Kate thought. I can face this. I can face anything. I'm going to live. I'll survive. The company will survive.
BOOK FIVE
Eve and Alexandra 1950-1975
Kate recuperated at Dark Harbor, letting the sun and the sea heal her.
Tony was in a private asylum, where he could get the best care possible. Kate had psychiatrists flown in from Paris, Vienna and Berlin, but when all the examinations and tests had been completed, the diagnosis was the same: Her son was a homicidal schizophrenic and paranoiac.
'He doesn't, respond to drugs or psychiatric treatment, and he's violent. We have to keep him under restraint.'
'What kind of restraint?' Kate asked.
'He's in a padded cell. Most of the time we have to keep him in a straitjacket.'
'Is that necessary?'
'Without it, Mrs. Blackwell, he would kill anyone who got near him.'
She closed her eyes in pain. This was not her sweet, gentle Tony they were talking about. It was a stranger, someone possessed. She opened her eyes. 'Is there nothing that can be done?'
'Not if we can't reach his mind. We're keeping him on drugs,
but the moment they wear off, he gets manic again. We can't continue this treatment indefinitely.'
Kate stood very straight. 'What do you suggest, Doctor?'
'In similar cases, we've found that removing a small portion of the brain has produced remarkable results.'
Kate swallowed. 'A lobotomy?'
'That is correct. Your son will still be able to function in every way, except that he will no longer have any strong dysfunctional emotions.'
Kate sat there, her mind and body chilled. Dr. Morris, a young doctor from the Menninger Clinic, broke the silence. 'I know how difficult this must be for you, Mrs. Blackwell. If you'd like to think about—'
'If that's the only thing that will stop his torment,' Kate said, 'do it.'
Frederick Hoffman wanted his granddaughters. 'I will take them back to Germany with me.'
It seemed to Kate that he had aged twenty years since Marianne's death. Kate felt sorry for him, but she had no intention of giving up Tony's children. 'They need a woman's care, Frederick. Marianne would have wanted them brought up here. You'll come and visit them often.'
And he was finally persuaded.
The twins were moved into Kate's home, and a nursery suite was set up for them. Kate interviewed governesses, and finally hired a young French woman named Solange Dunas.
Kate named the first-born Eve, and her twin, Alexandra. They were identical—impossible to tell apart. Seeing them together was like looking at an image in a mirror, and Kate marveled at the double miracle that her son and Marianne had created. They were both bright babies, quick and responsive, but even after a few weeks, Eve seemed more mature than Alexandra. Eve was the first to crawl and talk and walk. Alexandra followed quickly, but from the beginning it was Eve who was the leader. Alexandra adored her sister and tried to imitate everything she did. Kate spent as much time with her granddaughters as possible. They made her feel young. And Kate began to dream again. One day, when I'm old and ready to retire...
On the twins' first birthday, Kate gave them a party. They each had an identical birthday cake, and there were dozens of presents from friends, company employees and the household staff. Their second birthday party seemed to follow almost immediately. Kate could not believe how rapidly the time went by and how quickly the twins were growing. She was able to discern even more clearly the differences in their personalities: Eve, the stronger, was more daring, Alexandra was softer, content to follow her sister's lead. With no mother or father, Kate thought repeatedly, it's a blessing that they have each other and love each other so much.
The night before their fifth birthday, Eve tried to murder Alexandra.
