Steinberg looked at him for a moment as though he didn't believe him, then gave a sharp nod, and proceeded down the hall on his way to his suite.
"I'm sorry," Dennis said. "I don't want to upset Donna."
Sid shrugged. "She's already upset. Let's go."
In Dennis's suite, Sid listened while Dennis told him about the confusion over Terri's accusations, of the conversation with Ann, and finally, of the return of the Emperor, and his admission of his verbal seduction of the girl. As Sid sat there, a great sorrow filled him. He could not help but feel that his friend was mad.
But when Dennis had finished his story, Sid sat for a moment, then nodded his head in sympathy. "This… thing sounds like nothing but trouble, Dennis," he said, trying to sound sincere. "I think you should try and get rid of it. As quickly as possible. Maybe I could help you."
Dennis frowned. "I don't know, Sid. It doesn't seem as if its intentions are bad. It acts the way it does because… well, because it knows no other way. It has the emotions that I gave it – the egoistic, childish ones. I can't really blame it for how it thinks. It's a child, a newborn, really. It's got… so much more to learn."
Dear God, Sid thought, he really has gone off the edge. "But, Dennis, you can't know what it intends. It could be bad – very bad. Maybe there's some way we could, I don't know, exorcise it or something. We could talk to a minister, or maybe… (Here goes, he thought)… a psychiatrist?"
Dennis looked at him for a long time, his eyes heavy-lidded and weary. "You still don't believe me."
"Dennis, I didn't say that, of course I believe you."
"This isn't something a psychiatrist can deal with, Sid. I honestly don't believe this is anything that anyone has ever had to deal with before."
Unique, Sid thought. I'd expect nothing less of Dennis Hamilton. "What'll we do then?"
"For now, nothing. I just had to talk about it, tell someone, and I knew I could trust you – if not to believe me, then at least not to tell anyone else. I don't want this… creation to be discovered, studied, examined, at least not yet. It trusts me, Sid, and I have to confess I feel… protective toward it. It is, after all, my child, for want of a better word. And in a weird way I actually feel a little proud of it." He paused, then chuckled. "With the small amount of pride it's left me."
Sid thought for a moment. "Then you think that this explains the recent changes in your personality. This histrion, as you call it, took the emotions of the Emperor away from you."
"Yes. And it could explain why my last performances, for the most part, weren't nearly as powerful as before."
"It makes… an odd kind of sense," Sid said, nodding. "But do you want to give those things up?"
"Maybe it's done me more good than harm. It's made me a kinder person. Hopefully a better one." He grinned. "When's the last time I barked ‘ scheiskopf ’ to you?"
"Well, yeah, I haven't missed that," Sid admitted.
"See, there's good in everything. Even…”
Sid stepped into the pause. "An emotional vampire?"
Dennis sobered immediately. "I wouldn't put it like that."
"No. I guess not. I'm sorry, Dennis, I didn't mean to be flip." He stood up. "Okay then, you don't want to do anything about this, talk to anyone else, right?"
"No." Dennis sat there looking at the carpet. He seemed, Sid thought, to have been drained of feeling, and he thought that his vampiric description of what was eating Dennis (from within only, he had no doubt) was apt.
"Well, goodnight then," he said, and let himself out, noticing, as he left, that Dennis didn't look up to see him go.
Back in his suite, Donna was still in the bed. When he climbed in next to her, she smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said. "That wasn't like me. I feel so stupid."
"It's okay," he told her. "I understand." Instead of immediately resuming their lovemaking, he simply put an arm around her and let her cuddle against him. "This whole place is on edge. You should've seen John when he heard you yell."
"Ohmigod, John heard me?"
"Yeah. He was in the hall."
"It's going to be lovely to face him tomorrow."
"Not like he doesn't know about us."
"I know, but I don't think he's ever really approved. He still treats me like a daughter, even after all these years."
"Better like a daughter than like a slave to ole' massah Dennis. ..”
The last word fell off into such despair that Donna propped herself on her elbow and looked at Sid's face in the dim light. "What is it?"
"Dennis. There's something very wrong. Remember when you thought he was putting the moves on you upstairs?" She nodded. "Well, I don't think you were imagining it. I think he tried to – hell, maybe he even did – seduce Terri too."
"My God. John told me Terri was arguing with Dennis in the lobby. So that's what it was about. No wonder Ann stayed out sick."
"That's not the worst of it. Dennis has come up with this alter ego – his Mister Hyde who's doing all these rotten things. It's the Emperor."
"What?"
"The Emperor Frederick. The character. It's… split off from him, see? So when Dennis does something bad, like try and seduce you, or try and screw Terri Deems when he's seeing her mother, it's not him, but the Emperor who did it."
"He told you this?"
"He's got it all worked out in his head. It's scary as hell, Donna. I think he really believes it too. I don't know whether it's guilt over Robin's death or what, but something's driven him half crazy. Maybe all crazy."
"But when I saw him – upstairs – and he was in his costume, that was before Robin died."
Sid shook his head and sighed. "I don't know. I don't get it at all."
"Sid, you don't think… " She paused, as though she hated to say what was next. "You don't think Dennis could have had anything to do with the deaths, do you?"
"I can't believe that. There's another, more reasonable explanation for everything that happened-Tommy, Harry, even Robin. Dennis couldn't have been responsible for any of those. It was physically impossible. But, goddammit, there's something wrong with him, and he's my friend, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Well, I know one thing you can do – make sure the door's locked, huh?"
"It is, always. That's what comes from living in New York." He kissed her, placed his hand on her stomach, moved it up to her breasts, and was delighted to find that her nipples were hard. "Don't worry," he said, "no one's going to walk in on us. And no more interruptions either. Dennis – and the Emperor – will just have to wait until tomorrow."
They made love then, softly and sweetly, and when they were finished Donna nestled against Sid and went right to sleep. Sid, however, lay awake, thinking about Dennis and about what he might do for his friend. For they were friends, and had been ever since that first company of A Private Empire, when Sid, a chorus member only a year older than Dennis, was overjoyed with Dennis's transformation from a put-upon ingenue into the man who called the shots. At the end of the third week of rehearsals, by which time Dennis was feared by everyone involved with the show except Davis and Ensley themselves, Sid had gone up to Dennis during a break and said, "I like what you're doing – and not just with the role."
Dennis had looked at him dully for a moment, and then, realizing that someone had seen through his dual performances, grinned broadly. That moment began a collaboration and a friendship that had lasted a quarter century, and had been betrayed only once – by Sid in a poolside changing room with Dennis's first wife. It was a mistake Sid had regretted ever since, and ever since he had been unfailingly loyal to Dennis.
He would be loyal to him now. There was no way he could bring himself to share his knowledge with John Steinberg, who, although he loved Dennis too, would have unhesitatingly had him committed to one of those celebrity psycho/drugs/alcohol wards whose graduates graced the covers of People and the tabloids. John was practical enough to do it, and had the power to do it as well. If Dennis was the Emperor, then Steinberg was the power behind the throne. No, Sid would say nothing to him, and hope that Dennis was able to work his problems out for himself before Steinberg noticed anything strange about his sole client.