her. She was still on the phone, toying with something on the desk while she talked. A ring, it looked like.
In the kitchen the stainless steel stove still had the original cellophane wrap over its knobs. I knew Hal had lived on takeout, and I guessed that on the rare occasions she cooked, Laurel was strictly a microwave artist.
I found a teacup full of moldy sprouts, a wheel of Camembert, and a carton of Perrier in the fridge. My intention had been to whip up some salad, so I discarded that idea. I got out the cheese and put it on a fancy crystal cake plate. In contrast to the refrigerator, the cupboards were stocked full of popcorn, tins of cashews, jars of Greek olives, Russian Sevruga caviar, capers, smoked Malpeque oysters, packages of cookies and crackers, tinfoil bags of tostada chips, some dark chocolate.
The wine cooler supplied a nice bottle of Schloss Lieser Riesling. Dry and crisp. I opened two different packages of crackers and arranged them around the cheese. A glass bowl matching the cake plate was just the right size for the olives. I opened the oysters and put them in a bowl, set the chocolate on a plate.
In the dining room I filched sterling silver forks and knives from one of the drawers and a linen tablecloth and napkins with an inscription in Latin, the initials HRH embroidered around the edges in gold. I added a candelabra with three ivory tapers. With all the dinner things piled on a tray, I went to the terrace and laid out a nice spread on one of the tables.
Touches of lavender tinted the evening sky. I wiped the table and chairs, still wet from the afternoon rain, and held my hand around the candles to light them. Mercifully, they didn’t go out. Some solar lamps, a few shrubs, and potted plants were arranged near the balustrade. As I turned to go, I noticed an emperor moth fluttering over to rest on a lamp globe, its wings beating a slow harmony, folding and opening. Only the females fly at night. Astounding that a moth was able to fly to these heights.
Laurel didn’t seem to notice me when I came back into the study. “Join me for dinner on the terrace?”
I held out my arm and led her outside. Her face flushed when she saw the table. “How sweet of you.” I poured some wine and we clinked our glasses.
“To you,” I said and put my glass down. A little wine dribbled down the side and left a mark on the tablecloth. I heard Hal’s mother shriek from her grave.
“Did you make any headway?”
“I found a funeral home to look after things, and the lawyers are releasing enough to pay for it. That’s a huge chunk off my mind. Now I’ll have to let people know.”
She walked over and leaned against the railing. Lights were coming on all over the city now, a million stars in the urban galaxy. Farther out, the flat, murky expanse of the Hudson made its presence felt by the absence of light. Tall buildings glowed gold in the waning sunlight above ribbons of luminescence marking the verticals and horizontals of the avenues and streets; acid scarlets, blues, and greens shone from the neon signs. The street noise floating up to us was greatly subdued. The gargoyle, coiled in deep shadow, surveyed the city from its perch as though summoning its strength to spring on unsuspecting bodies below.
“John, I’m leaving. I need to get away from this game of Hal’s. It’s your issue, not mine, and I’m tired of it. There’s so much on my mind, I don’t have the energy for anything else. Wherever it leads has nothing to do with me anyway.”
“Unfortunately, the alchemy group believe you’re involved.”
“I won’t let them run my life. Last time I checked I was a twenty-four-year-old woman capable of making her own decisions.”
“But we already agreed you can’t stay here.”
“I know. My friend finally got in touch. She’ll put me up for a couple of days.”
“That’s great. Where does she live?”
“Near New Haven. She commutes to the city a couple of days a week. She’s picking me up later tonight.”
I would miss spending time with her, but things would be a whole lot easier if I had only myself to worry about.
“You’ve gotten obsessed with this whole thing. You should drop it. Can’t you find somewhere to go away for a while too?”
I thought back to the chase at the Port Authority. “They’d find me anyway.”
She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. “I think you secretly like the adventure. You said you’d hand the engraving over to the FBI. Is that really true? The money you could get—it must be pretty tempting.”
“Tempting for a fool. The thing’s hotter than a branding iron. A dealer with a long history and very discreet international clients might pull off a sale like that, but I’m not there yet.”
“Everything in Peter’s collection is gone. Is that right?”
“As far as I’m aware. I sold all the items we’d cataloged.”
“You should see the mess the records are in. That wasn’t just Hal’s doing—his mother’s files are totally chaotic too.” Tears drifted down her cheeks.
I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do. I moved beside her just to let her know I was there, not wanting to add any pressure. “What’s wrong?”
“I wish Hal and I could have made a go of it. I really got my hopes up after Mina died. People said they could never get the two of us. But there was a side to him no one knew. He never tried to control me. He always appreciated my view of things and supported me, even if my choices ended up bombing.”
Her head was bent ever so slightly. She rubbed her hand across her cheek as if to suppress her impulse to cry. I wrapped my arms around her, intending to comfort her. My consoling gesture quickly morphed into something else. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I buried my face in the rich silkiness of her hair, kissed her neck and then her lips. I tried to hold back on the steamroller of my lust, but any pretence of taking things slowly quickly vanished into thin air.
She pushed me away reluctantly. “Look,” she said, “part of me would like to do this but I’m not ready. Hal isn’t even buried yet and right now I need some space. We won’t lose anything by waiting.”
I muttered something in response about that being okay, even though the words clashed with my real feelings like a hammer hitting a windowpane. When she left to go back into the study I grabbed the bottle of wine and downed the rest of it, feeling rejected, although I knew I had no good reason to react that way. I attempted to focus on Hal’s game again but found myself drifting off.
I’m not sure what woke me. It could have been the gusts of wind blowing raindrops in, pinging onto the floor. I checked the time: 9:15 P.M.
I struggled over to the French doors. The terrace was dim and bleak looking, the remains of our food drowning on their plates. The candelabra had fallen, and a candle had burned a black hole into the tablecloth before it sputtered out.
I closed the doors with a smack, almost falling on the slippery floor. I felt chilled and, to tell the truth, a shade embarrassed about falling asleep. I checked the powder room. It was clear. No Laurel. I called her name. She didn’t answer.
Why were the lights out? I remembered lowering the family room lights, but I hadn’t turned them off. Laurel must have, seeing me asleep. I fumbled along the wall for the switch and flicked it on. A cold fluorescence flooded the blue white of the kitchen.
Had she gone into the spirit room? When I opened the door the odor I’d noticed before wafted into the hallway, but the room itself was dark and empty. Along the corridor was a second set of stairs: in Mina’s social heyday, the staircase used by the domestics. It led to a vast upper floor of bedchambers, baths, closets, and anterooms.
Laurel must have gone there, probably to avoid disturbing me. Finding no light switch for the stairway, I stumbled up. The wooden steps groaned. I emerged into the dark canyon of a hallway and stopped, cocking my head like a dog, listening for sounds of her.
Hearing nothing, I called out again. My voice echoed and bounced off the walls like a mountain yodel. I moved ahead, hands outstretched, until I made contact with the wall. Using the wood paneling as a guide, I slunk down the hallway.
A switch presented itself, and when I flipped it a series of antique sconces sprang to life. I proceeded farther, opening doors, calling Laurel’s name. It was clear that no one had ventured up here for some time. The place had a silent, empty aura. I brushed the ledge of the wainscoting; my hand came away coated with dust. My
