DONNA
But why? Why the costume… Dennis?
THE EMPEROR
Because we should not forget to whom we owe all this. This beautiful building, this success, this… soon-to- be bedroom. (He walks about, hands clasped behind his back.) And what things might be done here? Do you think that Dexter will form a liaison with any of the chorus members? He has before, you know. (He fixes her with a challenging glare.) Did you know that?
DONNA
(Nods) Yes.
THE EMPEROR
Dexter is quite an accomplished lover. Perhaps it is his Italian heritage. (He gives her a look that would pin a butterfly to a board .) Have you ever had an Italian lover, Donna?
DONNA
I… I don't… no. No, I haven't.
THE EMPEROR
A pity. Life should be filled with as many experiences as possible. And such an attractive woman as yourself… no, no protestations, please. You know it's true, even though you attempt to disguise it under those owlish glasses and that severe hair style. They merely beg a man to remove them and unpin the hair, and give that classic line, 'Why, Miss Franklin, you're beautiful.' Please don't tell me that you've never imagined that weary scenario, or that it's never happened to you, for I feel sure it has.
DONNA
Dennis -
THE EMPEROR
(He raises a hand, interrupting her.) Spare me, Donna. I can tell when I'm talking to a woman who is experienced. I have empathy for that sort of soul to whom the flesh means much. (He looks away from her and murmurs, lost in thought.) The flesh…
(Seeing that THE EMPEROR's attention has shifted away from her, DONNA starts to edge past him toward the door, but he shoots out a hand in front of her, though he does not touch her.)
THE EMPEROR
When two such souls join – two souls with the proper regard for the flesh – the outcome would be astonishing. (He lowers his hand and smiles.) And I think that you and my… colleague of long standing have long experienced such a bonding. (He steps aside, bows deeply, and makes a low, sweeping gesture toward the hallway.) Pray, proceed. Remember me. And my veiled offer. For the time is coming when the flesh will live. And command.
~* ~
The same fear that had held Donna now allowed her to tear her fascinated gaze away and move past him, walking briskly, then running, to the freedom of the hall. She heard the door close behind her, but she did not turn to see if he was there watching her, or had remained within, in the shadows. All she could think about was escaping. There was something about him that had soured her soul. His presence (his madness? – What was the costume for?) made her feel all the world was vile. It was not so much what he said as what she had heard actors call subtext – what lay beneath his words was like the pale, flat worms that crawl under rocks after rain.
And those words had come out of him on breath that smelled queer and strange and metallic, nothing as pedestrian as cigarette smoke or as pungent as garlic, but a curious and unique odor, one she had never before noticed from Dennis or any other human being. Whatever it was, it had terrified her almost as much as his bizarre words.
Donna's heart did not slow until she was back in the office suite she shared with John Steinberg, who was standing next to her desk looking through the day's mail. A pile of empty envelopes lay on her desk top, and Steinberg was smiling as he riffled the contents at her. 'More checks,' he said. 'More good people wanting to invest in the project. Cissy Morrison sent ten thousand.' Steinberg tossed down the pile of checks and sighed. 'I'd feel happier, however, if I didn't think they were coming more in Tommy's memory than as real investments. I know that's what was in Cissy's mind at least.'
Donna felt secure again. She was back with John now, talking about money, as usual. All was nearly right with the world. 'How do you know that's what Cissy had in mind?' she asked.
'Because she told me in her goddamned letter. Listen.' He picked up a sumptuous piece of cream-colored stationery from the desk and read, ''Not for your sake, you pompous windbag, but in memory of Tommy. And I'd better make a fucking profit too.'' Steinberg shook his head. 'Cissy has such a way with words. So. You were up in the highest reaches of the keep?'
'Yes. I… I ran into Dennis.'
'Dennis? Surveying his domain?'
'I don't know, John. He seemed awfully strange. He was… he was wearing his costume.'
John eyed her over the top of his bifocals. 'What costume?'
'His emperor costume. The whole regalia. And he acted like, well, he wasn't like himself at all. He acted more like the Emperor, like he was playing a role when he spoke to me. It was odd. I was actually a little scared.'
Steinberg's face sobered. 'Hmm. Well, he has been acting strangely. Tommy's death hit him hard. Hell, it did all of us. I'm sure he'll get over it.'
'But… the costume?'
Steinberg heaved a sigh and sat on the edge of the desk. 'Donna, Dennis has been the Emperor for many years. Even though he wasn't sorry to stop playing the role, it was a major part of his life. It's rather odd that he should put on the costume once again and roam the corridors above where he'd think no one would see him, but it's not inexplicable. It's like a little boy playing dress-up, for actors can be, as you well know, little more than children at times. When you discovered him, he was embarrassed, so he fell into character. And that,' he finished, 'is my pseudo-Freudian analysis. I shouldn't worry about it if I were you. Dennis will come around.'
~* ~
'John's wrong. I didn't come across him,' Donna said to Sid. 'He came into the suite. Sid, he knew I was there. If he didn't want me to see him, he could have just walked away down the hall.'
Sid rolled over onto his back, rested a hand on Donna's bare thigh, and looked up at the bedroom ceiling. 'It doesn't sound like Dennis. He never propositioned you before, did he?'
'Never. He's always been a gentleman around me. And he knows about us…' She trailed off, turning toward him and throwing an arm over his chest.
'Mmm-hmm. He's known for years about our…” He kissed her cheek. “… relationship. I can't believe he'd try to make a move on you.'
'I can't either, but he did. I didn't imagine it.'
'I know. You're a very rock-solid lady.' He chuckled. 'That's why I keep returning to your open arms.'
Sid Harper and Donna Franklin had been making love to each other for ten years. It was a relationship of convenience in which expediency of passion was the key. They had had few relationships with other people during the time they had been together, and had never spoken of the four-letter word, love.
'I just don't know,' Sid mused, 'what's gotten into Dennis lately. He's not his old self, that's for sure.'
'There was something else,' Donna said, and he felt her stiffen beside him. 'I just remembered. He didn't blink. I don't think I saw him blink one time, even when I shone my flashlight right in his face
…”
Scene 9
The next morning, Ann Deems came to the Venetian Theatre to begin her new job. Donna Franklin gave her a tour of the building, and then showed her to a small office on the second floor just down the hall from Donna and Steinberg's two-office suite. There, she began to fill out the first of the forms that would become such a large part
