“Why not?”
“We’ve had a certain division of feeling over the years,” Linton said. “She wanted something that I couldn’t give her.” He stepped back toward the door. “I’d rather not stay too long in here.”
“Of course,” Frank said.
A few minutes later, Frank was on the porch again, staring at Linton through the gray screen.
“Thanks for your time,” he said.
Linton looked at him closely, his eyes still fixed on Frank’s slowly healing face.
21
Even in his dreams, Frank could not have imagined the splendor that greeted him as he passed through the large gate and entered the grounds of the Castle plantation. It had taken him almost two hours to get to La Grange, but the beauty of the estate suddenly relieved much of the long drive’s accumulated weariness and tension. Huge magnolias spread their great leaves in a rising tower of gently swaying green. To the left, weeping willows hung motionlessly over a blue lake, and beyond the water, almost like a phantom, he could see the great white portico that looked out over everything.
A small woman in a black dress and white apron greeted Frank at the door.
Frank took out his badge. “I called earlier. Miss Castle agreed to see me this afternoon.”
“You must be Mr. Clemons.”
“That’s right.”
“Please come in, Miss Castle will be with you in a moment.”
The luxuriance of Karen’s house was muted when compared to the sweeping foyer he entered now. An enormous staircase unfolded from the second floor and down along walls covered with paintings and brightly colored tapestries.
“May I take your hat, sir?” the woman asked.
“No, thanks,” Frank said. “I’ll hold on to it.”
“Miss Castle has asked that you wait here,” the woman said. “She’ll be down in a minute.”
“That’ll be fine,” Frank said.
A few minutes later, Miriam Castle arrived. She walked down the long, winding staircase, and even from a distance, Frank could see that she was an elegant, graceful woman with silver hair and a remarkably unlined face.
She offered her hand gently as she stepped over to Frank.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” she said. She smiled politely. “I was just going out for my evening walk. I was hoping that you might join me.”
“Yes, fine.”
“Good,” Miss Castle said. “Come.”
A few minutes later, the two of them were strolling slowly amid the rich foliage of the grounds. Wisps of Spanish moss hung from the branches overhead, and in the distance a small clear stream meandered right and left through the oak and elm.
“We gained all this through slavery,” Miss Castle said. “One of my distant relatives was in the slave trade almost from its beginnings. Family legend has it that he was a kind man. But then, what family legend ever contained a cruel one?” She laughed. “A fact which Derek never tires of pointing out.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Forever,” Miss Castle said. “Or at least it seems that long. Actually, it’s been about forty years. I still bring him flowers, you know.”
“Yes, I saw them.”
She turned toward him. “I don’t know, Mr. Clemons, perhaps it’s just the light or the way the lake looks right now, but I feel quite full of things.”
“Things?”
“Truths,” Miss Castle said. “Even difficult ones sometimes seem quite beautiful.” She walked to the edge of the lake and stopped. “What did Derek tell you about me?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled. “Of course. He’s always been like that.”
“What should he have told me?”
“Well, for one thing, that I’ve been in love with him for all these many years.”
Frank said nothing.
“Does that strike you as tragic?” she asked him.
“No.”
She looked back at him. “Why not?”
“Because it lasted.”
“But others have a quite different opinion,” Miss Castle said. “They see me as a woman who’s spent her life loving a man who … well … who cannot love women.” She laughed. “It’s really more a comedy, don’t you think?”
“Neither one,” Frank said.
Miss Castle looked at Frank sweetly. “Women of my class are attracted to two things, Mr. Clemons, money and character. Derek had character.”
“He still does,” Frank said.
“Yes, and he will maintain himself intact,” Miss Castle said. She allowed her eyes to follow the flitting movement of a starling in the tall white oak. “How is he?”
“He’s dying.”
“Yes, I thought so,” Miss Castle said, “of that awful disease.” The bird took flight and she looked back at Frank. “I shall think of myself as a widow, even though he would not approve of that.”
“Perhaps, he would.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” she said determinedly. “I won’t lie to myself about that. I have desired a man who does not and cannot desire me. Tragedy or comedy, in either case, it is the truth.”
Frank took out his notebook. “Mr. Linton said that you met Angelica Devereaux at his house.”
“Yes.”
“And that you said, when you saw her, ‘Oh, it’s you.’”
“Possibly.”
“So you recognized her?”
“Not as Angelica Devereaux,” Miss Castle said, “but only as a young girl I’d seen in various out-of-the-way galleries in the city.”
“Then you didn’t know who she was?”
“No, I only knew that I had seen her before at such places. She was always dressed differently, but when you are that beautiful, dress cannot hide it.”
“You said the galleries were ‘out of the way’?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that they’re not among those on the Northside, the more prestigious galleries,” Miss Castle said. “They are smaller places, with cheaper rents, that sort of thing.”
“Places like the Knife Point Gallery?” Frank asked.
“Yes, that’s the sort of gallery I mean.”
“And you saw Angelica at places like the Knife Point from time to time?”
“Yes,” Miss Castle said. “I had no idea who she was. And she was always dressed somewhat differently. But she was very beautiful. Quite striking. If you saw her once, you weren’t likely to forget it.”
“Did you see her often?”
“Not often, but on occasion.”
“How many times?”
“I didn’t make a note of it.”
