by Amy Cross
Part Three
I
“You know I love you, right?” Didi said as she lay next to Edgar in their king-size, four-poster bed, with silk sheets wrapped around their still-sweaty, still-breathless naked bodies. “That's the reason I sometimes get angry. It's 'cause I love you sooooo much.”
As if to prove her point, she used the nail of her left forefinger to draw a swirl in the black hairs on Edgar's chest, tracing a path across his muscles and then down onto his rigid, bare abdomen. She let her hand rest on his warm flesh for a moment, feeling the faint pulse of his heart and the gentle rise-and-fall of his slow breaths. For a moment, all she could think about was getting him back inside her, but she quickly forced herself to focus on the more important task at hand. After all, she still had a job to do.
“Tell me you understand,” she continued, waiting for him to say something. “It's important to me.”
Before Edgar could reply, the lights above the bed flickered for a moment.
“Damn it,” Edgar muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, the infrastructure on this island seems to be stuck in the dark ages. I thought it would have improved by now. There must be something wrong with the mansion's exchange system.”
“Answer me,” Didi continued, with a hint of desperation having crept into her voice.
“You love me,” he replied dismissively. “I know.” He paused for a moment, before turning to her. “And I love you too, of course,” he added, with all the sincerity of a man who already realized that he'd waited a fraction too long.
“Huh,” she said with a smile, her eyes searching his face as she tried to understand what he was really thinking. “So given that we love each other, and that we're gonna get married next year and all, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“I don't like being asked questions,” he replied.
“I know, silly, but...” She paused, having finally reached the part of the conversation that she'd been building to since they'd finished making love a few minutes ago. She knew she needed to be delicate and precise in order to ensure that she didn't set off any alarm bells. “You've gotta promise not to get mad, Eddie, but this has been gnawing at me for a while, and I figure there's no reason why I can't ask. I mean, I'm more or less almost your wife already, and you know everything about me, so...”
Another pause.
“Eddie, can you tell me... Did you really kill James Nixon?”
Edgar stared at her impassively, as if the question didn't trouble him at all and as if, on the contrary, he was mildly amused that she had even asked.
“I won't judge you,” she continued. “You know I won't. I just wanna know, is all.”
“Whether I killed James Nixon?”
She nodded.
“Would it matter if I had?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.
“Would it?”
“No,” she stammered, “but... I mean, it'd have an impact on my thinking for sure, and it's the kinda thing a girl ought to know about her intended, isn't it? I won't think badly of you, I swear, and I won't ever talk to anyone about it, but can't you just tell me? A lot of people think you did.”
“Do they?”
“Is that why you made us leave all those other cities and eventually moved us here to Thaxos? Were you getting tired of all the rumors and gossip?”
“That wasn't the reason,” he replied. “But yes, the constant rumors were somewhat aggravating.”
“So why didn't you address them head on?”
“And issue a public denial, swearing blind that I had nothing to do with James Nixon's disappearance?”
“I think it would've helped,” she continued. “Sure, it wouldn't have stopped the most aggressive people, but for the rest it would've been enough. It's just that you kinda made people wonder, what with the way you refused to even release a statement saying you were worried when he went missing. I mean, James Nixon was your business partner and it was well known that the two of you were arguing a lot. There were stories in the papers about you two vying for control of the company, and everyone expected it to come to a head. And then he just vanished and...”
She waited, hoping that he might finally tell her the truth.
“So you think I had a motive?” he asked instead, remaining evasive.
“I think other people think you had a motive.”
Above the bed, the light flickered again.
“But do you think I killed him?” Edgar asked. “Let me rephrase that. Do you think I'm capable of kidnapping and killing anyone?”
“Of course not,” she replied, “I love you, but -”
“Then there is no need for this conversation,” he said, pulling away and getting of bed. Stark naked, he wandered to the window and stopped for a moment, staring out at the pastel blues and reds of the morning sun.
Sitting up in bed, Didi stared at his nude form from the back. He was in so many ways a perfect specimen of manhood, with firm muscles defining the shades and contours of his impressive physique, and not an ounce of unnecessary fat anywhere on his body. After a moment, however, Didi's eyes were drawn to the thick, jagged scar running around his upper arm, just below the shoulder. On his otherwise immaculate body, that scar always stood out, and she'd never been given a satisfactory answer concerning its origin. Still, she figured that true perfection would be kinda boring, and the scar was a perfect reminder that this was a man who had clearly been living a full and at times dangerous life.
The only question was: how dangerous?
“If you didn't do it,” she continued after a moment, “then why not just say so? Why not deny it?”
“Because I don't give a damn what people think,” he replied, keeping his back to her. “There isn't a single person out there in the entire world whose opinion matters to me at all. Not one person. They can all think what they want, say what they want, do what they want... It makes absolutely no difference to me.”
“But by staying silent, you make it seem -”
“I shall be busy today,” he continued, interrupting her. “I hope you can amuse yourself around the house, because I won't be here. I must go into town.”
“You?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise. “Seriously? You're going into town? Like... this town? The town on Thaxos?”
He turned to her, making no effort to hide his naked body from her view.
“Why should I not?” he asked. “I live here now, and I can't spend the rest of my life in the house. From your tone of voice, it's almost as if I announced I was planning a trip to the moon.”
“It's just that you've never been down to the town before,” she continued. “Apart from the first night, but... Eddie, why would you go to a place where everybody hates you?”
“I was thinking that I should pay a visit to a few people,” he replied, “and that perhaps, by doing so, I might be able to show them that I care about the day to day life of the island. I admit that the idea seems a little strange, but I was talking to...”
Didi waited for him to finish.
“Talking to who?” she asked plaintively, even though she immediately realized that Kate must be responsible for this change in her fiance's countenance. She'd known from the moment she met her that Kate Langley was going to be disruptive, and it hadn't taken long for the proof to arrive. Edgar never usually listened to anyone, not even to Didi herself, yet suddenly he seemed to be taking advice from Kate. “Who were you talking to?” she asked again, hoping to get him to admit the truth. “Eddie? Who was it?”
“No-one,” he replied, walking over to the door that led through to their en-suite bathroom. “I just think that it would be good to show some interest. If they still hate me after I've been down there, then they still hate me, but it behooves me to at least make an effort rather than sulking up here the way I...” He paused again. “The way my grandfather used to. I should learn from his mistakes.”
“But I thought you said just now that you don't care
what anyone else thinks about you?” Didi replied firmly, trying to hide her growing anger at this turn of events. She'd always felt as if she more or less had a handle on Edgar's emotions, but now she was seeing a few cracks. It was almost as if this most stubborn of men was actually capable of changing his mind, and if that was the case, she wanted to know the root cause.
“I don't care,” he said simply.
“Then why are you trying to make them like you?”
“That's not the sole purpose of my journey today.”
“Then who are you trying to impress?” she asked, trying not to let her exasperation become too obvious.
Ignoring her, he stepped into the bathroom. This was always his way of ending an argument: he simply walked away and assumed that there was nothing more to say. She'd grown used to it, but sometimes it made her blood boil and this was one of those occasions.
“Eddie!” she called out. “Eddie, get back here, we haven't finished talking!”
Sitting in the bed, Didi tried to work out what, exactly, was happening. This was new and very uncharacteristic behavior from Edgar, and she felt certain that he wasn't being entirely truthful about his reason for going into town. She knew him well enough, however, to be sure that he wasn't trying merely to improve relations with the people of Thaxos, so she figured that there must be some other, hidden motive. Although it pained her to consider the possibility, she felt that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to impress Kate Langley.
“Well I'm going into town too!” she called through to him, determined to do more than simply sit around all day waiting for him to return. “Maybe I'll bump into you! I probably won't, though, 'cause I'm gonna be real busy myself! I've got stuff to do and people to see! Are you listening to me?”
She waited for a response.
None came, and a moment later she heard the shower running.
“Damn it!” she shouted, although she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere.
Sighing, she realized that this was another example of Edgar's stubbornness. Reaching under the bed, she fumbled for a moment until she found the small tape recorder she'd carefully hidden there the night before, and she hit the button to switch it off. As Edgar showered, Didi sat in bed and watched the sunrise, while trying to work out how she was ever going to get him to admit the truth about the death of James Nixon. A cold shiver passed through her body as she realized that, at this rate, she might actually have to go through with the wedding.
And it had all seemed like such a simple job at the beginning...
II
“I tried everything,” Ephram explained as he set the tray of food down. Grabbing a fork, he stirred the food mix for a moment, fluffing it up to make it look a little more appetizing. “She wouldn't listen. To her, I'm just a fool yabbering on without consequence. It's as if she just wants to sit in bed and stare at the window all day, like... I don't know what she's waiting for. Tell me, what would you do? If you were in my situation, what course of action would you take? I would really like to hear your opinion.”
On the other side of the metal mesh, the chicken stared at him.
“Would you keep wasting your breath?” Ephram continued. “Or would you just let her get on with things and hope for the best?”
Reaching down to the floor of the coop, the chicken pecked at some straw.
“That,” Ephram muttered with a sigh, “is your answer for everything.”
Lifting a forkful of mix from the bowl, he turned and unlatched the door to the chicken coop, and then he slipped the fork inside and watched as his sole remaining chicken began to eat. It was still early and the store had only been open for a couple of hours, but of course there had been no customers. People tended to venture out less frequently these days, feeling safer in the middle of the day when the rats hid from the sun, but Ephram couldn't afford to change his opening hours. In the past, before Edgar Le Compte's return, there would always be a few customers through the door this early, but now he rarely saw anyone until noon. Still, he stubbornly opened every morning at 7am, just like the old days. It was the rhythm of his life, and he had no intention of changing.
Increasingly, though, mornings were for his chicken.
“No, no,” he said, gently pushing the chicken back and closing the door to the coop. “I can't let you out, Gertrude. I'm sorry.”
As if to prove his point, a rat scurried along the far wall of the yard, making its way to the trash. A few weeks ago, Ephram would still have bothered to grab his mop and then he would have tried to kill the vermin, but now he just sighed. All that chasing had begun to wear him out, and it wasn't as if he had a hope of getting rid of them all.
“I will find a solution,” he continued, turning back to look at his chicken. “This is only temporary, you understand? I will find a way to get rid of the rats, and then you can roam free again. You won't have to spend your whole life caged like this, I promise. Don't you remember the good old days when you walked freely around my shop?”
He dipped the fork into the bowl again, but suddenly he heard the bell ringing in his store. He turned and looked at the back door for a moment, perplexed that someone had actually showed up, but finally he bolted the door on the chicken coop and got to his feet, pausing only to wince at the pain in his hip.
“Wonder of wonders,” he muttered, patting the top of the coop. “Wait here. By the Lord's mercy, I think we actually have a customer.”
