Power. Madeleine had told him that she was in Washington in order to be around power, to get some kind of influence. Was any part of that true? The User must have noticed him somewhere, and it was after he moved to the DC area that he started seeing things—Lizzy, and then Madeleine. The User might have grown up in the Hudson River Valley, but that house had been closed down for years. She had to be living somewhere, and it made sense that it was in the DC area. And if she lived there, somebody knew her.
He made a connection. The grande dame's party, where he met Madeleine. There was someone in DC who had known Madeleine before he did.
But he wouldn't send one of his investigators to talk to the grande dame. He owed her more civility than that. He'd go and talk to her himself.
10. Memories
"I remember you. Or do I?" She was as gracious as before, and the confusion of her words didn't show on her face.
"You were very kind to me at a party one night," said Quentin. "In fact, you introduced me to my wife."
"That would be clumsy of me, to introduce a husband and wife to each other."
"No, no, she wasn't my wife at the time, we—"
"Please, Mr. Fears, I was joking. I'm old, but I still understand the ins and outs of simple communication. I spoke to you for a while, didn't I? I think I ran on and on, but you were very patient."
"Conversing with you made me glad that I had read my sister's collection of Jane Austen novels."
"I was not around in the Georgian period, Mr. Fears."
"You converse as elegantly as if you had been. It makes a California boy like me struggle to keep up."
"Now I remember you. I caught you fingering the books in the library."
"I thought of myself as eyeing them."
"You were climbing the ladder, anyway. Did you come to thank me for introducing you to... what was the young lady's name? Not Duncan, anyway."
Not Duncan? "Madeleine Cryer."
"The niece, yes."
"Niece?"
"Well, of course to you she's your wife, but to me, she's the niece of my good friends the Duncans. They have been so kind to me in the last few years, since my husband passed on."
"And so you invited their niece to your party."
"How could I not? Such a lovely girl. Not at all like the Duncans' rather unfortunate daughter. Oh, but now I'm being a gossip."
"What's the Margaret Truman quote? 'If you can't say something nice, come sit by me'?"
"It wasn't Margaret, my dear boy. But these stories have a way of attaching themselves to the people the newsmen have actually met. Of course no one invites newspapermen to any real parties. So they never know the truly clever people."
"You aren't telling me that it was you who originated that—"
"How old do you think I am, young man!" She feigned horror. "That story was ancient before Margaret Truman was born. My great-grandmother's diary mentions hearing that line attributed to the wife of James Buchanan."
"He was the president before Lincoln, wasn't he?"
"Very good—you are in the top two percent of your generation, for knowing that."
"Do I make the top one percent for knowing that Buchanan was a bachelor?"
She clapped her hands together, hankie and all. "Oh, you are a delight, Mr. Fears! It's no fun teasing people who never understand they're being teased."
"Do the Duncans understand?"
She looked at him sharply. "So we're on a fishing expedition. But I think your purpose is either loftier or lower than mere gossip."
"Loftier, I think. My wife has left me."
"Without a claim check, it appears. So when she returns to reclaim you..."
"Oh, I'll be here waiting, if she returns. Her departure was sudden. I don't know where she is."
"Did you do her violence, young man?"
"I'm not a violent man," said Quentin. "But I appreciate your concern for her safety."
"Men do not come with labels, alas, clearly identifying those who harm women from those who are unfailing gentlemen."
"Then tell me nothing, but merely allow me to write a note to Madeleine, care of the Duncans, care of—"
"Care of me."
"Though many hands touch my message, yet may it still have power to touch her heart."
"In all my reading, I can't recall where I heard that gracious speech before."
"You heard it here."
"You invented your own? A lost art is revived before my eyes."
"That art cannot be lost as long as you are in the world. In you the river of time slipped its banks and took a different route from the rest of the world."
"Now that one you did not invent."
"The January Atlantic."
"The article on Madagascar." She laughed. "Oh, Mr. Fears, you're such a spoof."
"Madeleine and I read that issue on our last plane trip together."
Her face grew solemn. "The pleasure of your company has made me forget your errand. By all means, give me your message."
He patted his pockets for a pen. "I'm here unarmed, I'm afraid."
"Then you must rise to your feet and arm yourself at my writing desk. Perhaps you'll want to choose one of the second sheets, so you don't have my monogram on your note."
Quentin went to the writing desk, chose paper and a pen, and wrote.
Dear M
I love you and miss you. Please assure me that you're well. Tell me the future is still a treasure box which we may open together.
All my love, Q
Since Quentin had no idea what the User wanted, he could not be sure that this note, if it even reached her, would have any effect at all. But if in fact the opening of the treasure box was her goal, this note had to leave her wondering exactly how much Quentin had understood of the things that happened at the house on the Hudson. It had to be good for him if she thought he understood less than he really did. And since he understood very little, it shouldn't be hard to persuade her that he knew nothing.
Except, of course, that the moment he called attention to himself, what would stop her from ransacking his mind and finding all his secrets? Lizzy said that the User had left him some independence. You are not without resources, Lizzy said. So maybe it was worth writing this note.
He folded the note in half, then carried it to the grande dame.
"Oh, Mr. Fears, you are cruel."
"Am I?"
"You could have sealed it. Then I would have steamed it open and read your note. But handing it to me folded shows such trust that I would die before I violated it."
Quentin laughed and read it to her.
"Oh, Mr. Fears, I will not deliver this note. Instead I will find treasure boxes of my own for us to open together. Why couldn't you have white hair and arthritis! Such a romantic!"
They laughed together.
"Young love is so hard, these days, Mr. Fears," she said, offering him her hand. He took it gently, and because of the way she rested her hand on his, he did not shake it but instead bowed over it, thinking that he should surely be wearing a cutaway for this scene. "If I see my friends' naughty niece, I will reprimand her for wasting such a fine young man—and after all the trouble we took to bring you to her!"
"Trouble?"
"I told you at the party how I felt about marriages and money. The Duncans are an old family. You are new money. Such a match is made in heaven."
"But the only person I knew at this party was a lobbyist who—"
"Who was invited to this party because he knew you."
"But I only called him a day before to ask him to take me to something."