Weep No More, My Lady

She did not linger for the coffee that was served in the music room. Instead, she slipped out onto the veranda and down the path to her bungalow. The mist had blown off, and stars were brilliant in the dark night sky. The crashing and pounding of the surf blended with the faint sounds of the cello. There was always a musical program after dinner.

An intense sense of isolation came over Elizabeth, an indefinable sadness that was beyond Leila's death, beyond the incongruity of the company of these people who had been so much a part of her life. Syd, Cheryl, Min. She'd known them since she was the eight-year-old Miss Tag Along. The Baron. Craig. Ted.

They went back a long way, these people whom she had considered close friends and who had now closed ranks on her, who sympathized with Leila's murderer, who would come to New York to testify for him…

When she reached her bungalow, Elizabeth hesitated and then decided to sit outside for a while. The veranda furniture was comfortable-a padded sofa swing and matching deck chairs. She settled on a corner of the sofa and, with one foot against the floor, set it moving. Here in the almost-dark, she could see the lights of the big house and quietly think about the people who had incongruously been gathered here tonight.

Gathered at whose request?

And why?

Eleven

'For a nine-hundred-calorie dinner, it wasn't bad.' Henry Bartlett came from his bungalow carrying a handsome leather case. He placed it on the table in Ted's sitting room and opened it, revealing a portable mini- bar. He reached for the Courvoisier and brandy snifters. 'Gentlemen?'

Craig nodded assent. Ted shook his head. 'I think you should know that one of the firm rules at this spa is no liquor.'

'When I-or should I say you?-pay over seven hundred dollars a day for me to be at this place, I decide what I drink.'

He poured a generous amount into the two glasses, handed one to Craig and walked over to the sliding glass doors. A full, creamy moon and a galaxy of brilliant silver stars lighted the inky darkness of the ocean; the crescendo of the waves attested to the awesome power of the surf. 'I'll never know why Balboa called this the Pacific Ocean,' Bartlett commented. 'Not when you hear that sound coming from it.' He turned to Ted. 'Having Elizabeth Lange here could be the break of the century for you. She's an interesting girl.'

Ted waited. Craig turned the stem of the glass in his hand. Bartlett looked reflective. 'Interesting in a lot of ways, and most particularly for something neither one of you could have seen. Every expression in the gamut marched across her face when she saw you, Teddy. Sadness. Uncertainty. Hatred. She's been doing a lot of thinking, and my guess is that something in her is saying two plus two doesn't equal five.'

'You don't know what you're talking about,' Craig said flatly.

Henry pushed open the sliding glass door. Now the crescendo of the ocean became a roar. 'Hear that?' he asked. 'Makes it kind of hard to concentrate, doesn't it? You're paying me a lot of money to get Ted out of this mess. One of the best ways to do it is to know what I'm up against and what I have going for me.'

A sharply cool gust of air interrupted him. Quickly he pulled the door shut and walked back to the table. 'We were very fortunate the way the seating worked out. I spent a good part of the dinner studying Elizabeth Lange. Facial expressions and body language tell a lot. She never took her eyes off you, Teddy. If ever a woman was caught in a love-hate situation, she's it. Now my job is to figure out how we can make it work for you.'

Twelve

Syd walked an unnaturally silent Cheryl back to her bungalow. He knew that dinner had been an ordeal for her. She'd never gotten over losing Ted Winters to Leila. Now it must absolutely gall her that even with Leila out of the way, Ted wouldn't respond to her. In a crazy way, that lottery winner had been a good diversion for Cheryl. Alvirah Meehan knew all about the series, told her she was perfect for the role of Amanda. 'You know how sometimes you can just see a star in a role,' Alvirah had said. 'I read Till Tomorrow when it was in paperback, and I said, 'Willy, that would make a great television series, and only one person in the world should play Amanda, and that's Cheryl Manning.' ' Of course, it was unfortunate she had also told Cheryl that Leila was her favorite actress in the whole world.

They were walking along the highest point of the property back to Cheryl's bungalow. The paths were lighted with ground-level Japanese lanterns which threw shadows on the cypress trees. The night was sparkling with stars, but the weather was supposed to change, and already the air was carrying the touch of dampness that preceded a typical Monterey Peninsula fog. Unlike the people who considered Pebble Beach the nearest spot to heaven, Syd had always felt somewhat uncomfort-able around cypress trees, with their crazy twisted shapes. No wonder some poet had compared them to ghosts. He shivered.

Matter-of-factly, he took Cheryl's arm as they turned from the main path to her bungalow. Still he waited for her to begin to talk, but she remained silent. He consoled himself with the thought that he'd had enough of her moods anyway for one day; but when he started to say good night, she interrupted him: 'Come inside.'

Groaning to himself, he followed her in. She wasn't ready to quit on him yet. 'Where's the vodka?' he asked.

'Locked in my jewelry case. It's the only place these damn maids don't check for booze.' She tossed him the key and settled herself on the striped satin couch. He poured vodka on ice for the two of them, handed her a glass and sat down opposite her, sipping his drink, watching her make a production out of tasting hers. Finally she looked squarely at him. 'What did you think about tonight?'

'I'm not sure I get your meaning.'

She looked scornful. 'Of course you do. When Ted drops his guard, he looks haunted. It's obvious Craig is worried sick. Min and the Baron make me think of a pair of high-wire acrobats on a slippery rope. That lawyer never took his eyes off Elizabeth, and she was spying on our table all night. I've always suspected she had a case on Ted. As for that crazy lottery winner-if Min puts me next to her tomorrow night, I'll strangle her!'

'The hell you will! Listen, Cheryl, you may get the part. Great. There's still always the chance the series will die in the ratings. A slight chance, I grant you, but a chance. If that happens, you're going to need a movie role. There are plenty of them around, but movies need backing. That lady's gonna have a lot of bucks for investment capital. Keep smiling at her.'

Cheryl's eyes narrowed. 'Ted could be talked into financing a movie for me. I know he could. He told me it wasn't fair that I was stuck with the play last year.'

'Get this straight: Craig is a lot more cautious than Ted. If Ted goes to prison, he'll run the show. And another thing. You're crazy if you think Elizabeth has the hots for Ted. If she did, why the hell would she be putting a noose around his neck? All she has to do is say she was wrong about the time and how wonderful Ted was to Leila. Period. Case dismissed.'

Cheryl finished her drink and imperiously held out her empty glass. Silently, Syd got up, refilled it and added a generous splash of vodka to his own. 'Men are too dumb to see,' Cheryl told him as he placed the drink in front of her. 'You remember the kind of kid Elizabeth was. Polite, but if you asked her a direct question, you got a direct answer. And she never made excuses. She just doesn't know how to lie. She'd never lie for herself, and unfortunately she won't lie for Ted. But before this is over she's going to look under stones to try to find some sort of positive proof of what happened that night. That can make her very dangerous.

'Something else, Syd. You heard that nutty Alvirah Meehan say she read in a fan magazine that Leila LaSalle's apartment was like a motel? That Leila gave out keys to all her friends in case they wanted to stay over?'

Cheryl got up from the couch, walked over to Syd, sat beside him and put her hands on his knees. ' You had a key to the apartment, didn't you, Syd?'

'So did you.'