“Shock value,” said Gordie, sitting where he could see the view, illuminated by a waning moon.
“Explain that to me.”
“We’re movie people,” Robbie said, uncorking wine, “and we understand the importance of the personal image. A key element is difference-be unusual, eccentric even, if your talents are not those of a Paul Newman or a Rock Hudson.”
“Where do your talents lie?” she asked, moving around her kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind, boys, but I had our dinner catered by Sea Foam-shrimp cocktails and roast beef.”
“Wonderful!” chorused the twins.
They ate, she noted, with an appearance of enthusiasm, but left a good amount uneaten.
“We have to watch our weight,” Gordie confided.
“Let’s go back to your talents,” she said, pouring coffee-at least she could make that! Except, she discovered, that it wasn’t something called decaffeinated, so they drank very little. She was beginning to gain the impression that West Coasters were riddled with dietary superstitions that, if Robbie and Gordie were anything to go by, did not have the imagined effects.
“Talents,” said Robbie, drinking camomile tea. “The one that’s appreciated at the moment is our acting, but we have scads of aspirations.” He looked coy. “We can’t talk about them-it would tempt Fate.” One boneless-looking hand waved around. “All we can say is that we have a very big project coming to fruition.”
“Does it require me to put in money?” Amanda asked warily.
The gooseberry eyes opened wide. “Amanda dear, no! We need millions! In other words, we need a top Hollywood producer.”
“Gordie, are you sure you wouldn’t like some camomile tea?”
Robbie put his cup down and rose. “We must be going, dear Amanda. You’re sure you don’t mind our dropping the ‘aunt’?”
She laughed. “Since I’m only a few years older than you, I prefer not being an aunt.” While Gordie gathered their coats, she looked at Robbie. “Where are your hearts?”
He understood immediately. “In our prosperity. The Bentley. Flying first class. In walking down the red carpet at a premiere and being cheered by the crowd.”
“General fame and fortune,” she said.
“In a nutshell, yes. But I didn’t mention the biggest. In winning the first twinned Oscar.”
“It’s laudable, and I wish you very, very well.”
After the twins departed Amanda sat at her glass wall and thought for a long time, chiefly about her money, her will, and the glass teddy bear.
She picked up the phone and dialed. “Did I wake you, Hank? Then how about coming over for some coffee and devil’s food cake?”
He arrived in twenty minutes, smiling broadly. “Don’t the twins eat dessert?” he asked.
“They eat very little of anything except things I didn’t have-what a world the West Coast must be! I mean, why drink coffee at all if you want the caffeine removed? And if you strip all the fat off meat, it doesn’t roast well, and why would you want to fry a bean twice? I gave up.” She looked down at the dog and cat, sitting at Hank’s feet. “Frankie and Winston are glad to see you. Robbie and Gordie squealed and ran away. I had to put the animals in the spare bedroom.”
In answer, he picked Winston up-a struggle. “Winston, you have been conning Marcia into thinking Amanda isn’t feeding you-I swear your weight’s gone up to twenty pounds.”
They sat at the plate-glass window. It was after midnight and the half moon was overhead, pouring an intangible, gold-hued light down upon Busquash Inlet; the leaves of the trees glinted with colored highlights, fully turned now in preparation for a season’s sleep. Some sea creature broke the burnished surface of the water in ominous, ever-widening ripples, and a romantic soul with a yen for the fires of winter had lit one, its smoke writhing in delicate tendrils toward the stars. Even here, eighty miles from New York City, they were dimmed and the sky yellowed by a million urban lamps. Lovely or ugly, according to your tastes.
By mutual consent they turned away from the window. Hank gave Amanda his customary tender kiss, smiled at her, and started for her front door.
“See you tomorrow,” he said.
On Thursday Nick came back from his compassionate leave looking worn and harried, but Imelda had come through having an aneurysm on the non-dominant middle cerebral artery clipped, and seemed to have no others to explode in the future. The Jefferson clan had rallied, so that, the operation itself over, Nick was free to go to work. Two grandmothers had moved into his house to prepare it for the invalid, and he was underfoot.
“I can’t even do the marketing,” he complained to Carmine.
“Here, you’re definitely useful,” said Carmine.
“What’s Helen’s status?”
“Delia thinks she’s been punished enough, so I returned her to duty as a full trainee yesterday, when Melantha was found.”
“Fair enough,” said Nick, grimacing. “What’s with the Dodo and a black woman?”
“No one knows, nor can the psychiatrists come up with a theory,” Carmine said, frowning. “I am assured that in the few cases of multiple murder that we know of, the killer has never crossed a racial frontier, though rape is cloudier. But now this sicko is killing, so how do we categorize him? Admittedly his rape victims have been of all persuasions and all Caucasian origins, but Melantha is a black woman, avowedly so. It doesn’t seem to have fazed him-my feeling is that to him, her color isn’t even important.”
“Christ! He is sick.”
The two women were summoned as soon as Nick was fully up to date; Nick found enough amusement to smile, eyes resting on a remarkably restrained Delia, wearing rust, navy and black.
“Why won’t you listen when I talk about the source of the Dodo’s knowledge about Carew women?” Nick asked, sounding exasperated.
All eyes swung to him. “Hit us,” said Carmine.
“Parties. Delia and I keep telling you that Carew is famous party country. Until Leonie was raped, Mark Sugarman gave regular parties. Mason Novak was another party giver, usually in conjunction with Dapper Dave, as their backyards abut. Von Fahlendorf is too exclusive to be a collaborator, but he has thrown an occasional party. Those four are all Gentleman Walkers, but there are other famous party givers too.”
“Right on, Nick,” said Delia, beaming.
“You’ve got my ears, Nick. Keep on going,” said Carmine.
“For starters, tongues get loose. The booze flows, and there is always pot. The men are in charm-the-women mode, there are loads of couples huddled in corners or on sofas letting their hair down about themselves. I’m not describing orgies. No one tries to find a place to engage in sex-sex follows after a couple has left the party, if you get my meaning. The party itself is a gab-fest. Talk, talk, talk. Cheap wine or spirits, finger food, loud music, a chance to unwind among like-minded souls. It’s amazing what people say about themselves under the influence of intoxicants or hallucinogens, even when people don’t know each other. What if the Dodo goes to Carew parties, cruises in search of women he fancies, then gets them in a corner and quizzes them, all charm and honey like a psychiatrist?”
Nick stopped, greeted by a profound silence.
Finally Carmine spoke. “That’s a valid theory, Nick. It makes sense. We’ve found no common threads that would give the Dodo information on any official level, and we know he has his victims summed up. Maybe he can learn enough about a woman at a party-it’s surprising how much information can be exchanged in a half hour. He’d also be in a position to steal keys, or take wax impressions of them. All the victims have been outgoing women before they were attacked, and some know Gentleman Walkers well. Mark Sugarman might keep invitation lists- dollars to dimes, he’s a hoarder.”
“Well,” said Delia, looking as if she regretted her dreary choice of colors, “pounds to peanuts, the Dodo is a charmer.”
Carmine’s eyes creased at the corners in amusement. “Do tell, Delia! C’mon, give us more.”
“He has sufficient animal magnetism to attract whomever he fancies,” she said, cheeks flushed with pleasure, but not forgetting to give Nick a look of intense gratitude. “He gets her into a corner, and persuades her to tell him the story of her life, complete with enough personal details for him to identify her. She tells him about her
