“Yes, I know that. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
“You’ve come about Helen?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” she said with a sharp little laugh. “Well, this is a surprise. I thought perhaps you were coming to see me about money.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
“It wasn’t an impression, Mr. Blackshear. It was a hope. Very silly of me.” She turned her face away. “Well, come along; we’ll have a drink.”
He followed her down the dimly-lit hall to the den. A fire was spluttering in the raised fieldstone fire-pit and the room was like a kiln. In spite of the heat, Verna Clarvoe looked pale and cold, a starved sparrow preserved in ice.
“Please sit down, Mr. Blackshear.”
“Thank you.”
She mixed two highballs, talking nervously as she worked. “Harrison always did this when he was alive. It’s funny what odd times you miss people, isn’t it? But you know all about that... That’s some of Dougie’s work on the mantel. It’s considered very unusual. Do you know anything about art?”
“Nothing at all,” Blackshear said cheerfully.
“That’s too bad. I was going to ask your opinion. Oh well, it doesn’t matter now. Dougie’s taken up something new. Photography. He goes into Hollywood to classes every day. Photography isn’t just taking pictures, you know.”
This was news to Blackshear but he said, “Tell me more.”
“Well, you have to study composition and lighting and filters and a lot of things like that. Dougie’s crazy about it. He’s a born student.”
She crossed the room, carrying the drinks, and sat down beside Blackshear on the cocoa rattan couch.
“What shall we drink to, Mr. Blackshear?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“All right. We’ll drink to all the millions of things in this world that don’t matter. To them!”
Blackshear sipped his drink uneasily, realizing that he had never actually known Verna Clarvoe. In the past he had seen her in character, playing the role she thought was expected of her, the pretty and frivolous wife of a man who could afford her. She was still on-stage, but she’d forgotten her lines, and the props and backdrop had been removed and the audience had long since departed.
She said abruptly, “Don’t stare at me.”
“Was I? Sorry.”
“I know I’ve changed. It’s been a terrible year. If Harrison only knew... Do you believe that people who have passed on can look down from Heaven and see what’s happening on earth?”
“That wouldn’t be my idea of Heaven,” Blackshear said dryly.
“Nor mine. But in a way I’d like Harrison to know. I mean, he’s out of it, he’s fine, he has no problems. I’m the one that’s left. I’m... what’s that legal term? Relict? That’s what I am. A relict.” She gulped the rest of her drink, making little sucking noises like a thirsty child. “This must be very boring for you.”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, you’re always so polite. Don’t you ever get sick of being polite?”
“I do, indeed.”
“Why don’t you get impolite then? Go on. I dare you. Get impolite, why don’t you?”
“Very well,” Blackshear said calmly. “You can’t hold your liquor, Mrs. Clarvoe. Lay off, will you, please?”
“Please. Please, yet. You just can’t help yourself, you’re a gentleman. A born gentleman. Dougie’s a born student. He’s learning photography. Did I tell you that?”
“Tell me again, if you like.”
“Mr. Terola is his teacher. He’s a very interesting man. Not a born gentleman, like you, but very interesting. You can’t be both. Tragic, isn’t it. Why don’t you be impolite again? Go on. I can’t hold my liquor. What else?”
“I came here to talk about Helen, Mrs. Clarvoe, not about you.”
Blotches of color appeared on her cheekbones. “That’s impolite enough. All right. Go ahead. Talk about Helen.”
“As you may know, for the past year I’ve been handling her investments.”
“I didn’t know. Helen doesn’t confide in me, least of all about money.”
“Yesterday she asked me to serve in another capacity, as an investigator. A woman in town has been making threatening and obscene telephone calls; Helen is one of her victims. From what I’ve learned about this woman today, I believe she’s dangerous.”
“What do you expect me to do about it? Helen’s old enough to take care of herself. Besides, what are the police for?”
“I’ve been to the police. The sergeant I talked to told me they get a dozen similar complaints every day in his precinct alone.”
The effects of the drink were beginning to wear off. Verna’s hands moved nervously in her lap and a little tic tugged at her left eyelid. “Well, I don’t see how I can help.”
“It might be a good idea if you invited her to come and stay here with you for a little while.”
“Here? In my house?”
“I’m aware that you’re not on very friendly terms, but...”
“There are no buts, Mr. Blackshear. None. When Helen left this house I asked her never to come back. She said unforgivable things, about Dougie, about me. Unforgivable. She must be out of her mind to think she can come back here.”
“She doesn’t know anything about the idea; it was entirely my own.”
“I ought to have guessed that. Helen wouldn’t ask a favor of me if she were dying.”
“It isn’t easy for some people to ask favors. Helen is shy and insecure and frightened.”
“Frightened? With all that money?” She laughed. “If I had all that money, I wouldn’t be scared of the Devil himself.”
“Don’t bet on that.”
With a defiant toss of her head, she crossed the room and began mixing herself another drink. As was the case with the first drink, she began reacting before she’d even uncorked the bottle.
“Mrs. Clarvoe, do you think it’s wise to...”
“No, it’s not wise. I’m a very stupid and ignorant woman. So I’m told.”
“Who told you?”
“Oh, a lot of people, Harrison, Dougie, Helen, lots of people. It’s a funny thing being told you’re stupid and never being told how to get unstupid.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to all us birdbrains.”
“Mrs. Clarvoe, do you do this every night?”
“Do what?”
“Drink like this.”
“I haven’t had a drink for months. As you said, I can’t take the stuff. And I don’t usually try. But tonight’s different. Tonight’s an end of something.”
She held the glass in both hands, rotating it as she talked so that the clink of ice-cubes punctuated her words.
“You think of an end as being definite, being caused by something important or calamitous. It’s not like that at all. For me tonight is final, but nothing special happened, just a lot of things. Some bills came in, the maid was rude about waiting for her salary, I met Evie on the street, the girl Dougie married, Dougie put on his earring and I made him take it off and he threw it and it... You see? Just little things.” She stared into the glass, watching the bubbles rise to the surface and burst. “Evie looked so sweet and pretty. I thought what lovely children they might have had. My grandchildren. I don’t mind getting old but I’d like to have something to show for it, like grandchildren. Mr. Blackshear...”
“Yes.”
“Do you think there’s something the matter with Douglas?”
A trickle of sweat oozed down the side of Blackshear’s face, leaving a bright moist trail like a slug. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”