by Susan Lewis
‘Where is she?’ he demanded. He was staring at Maurice. His face was as white as the marble floors, his eyes as deadly as the fists clenched at his sides.
Maurice’s wiry eyebrows went skywards as he gave a snort of incredulous laughter. ‘You’re asking me?’ he sneered. ‘It was you she was with out there, it was you . . .’
‘Where is she?’ Max cut in. He hadn’t taken a single step forward, but the menace in his voice caused Maurice to flinch.
Ula watched them and prayed silently to God that she wasn’t about to witness something she was going to live the rest of her life trying to forget.
Ellis, obviously stunned by what was happening, was the first to break the silence. ‘Maurice, if you know where she is, for God’s sake speak out, man.’
Again Maurice’s eyebrows flew up in disbelief. ‘You’re asking the wrong guy, Ellis,’ he cried. ‘If you want to know where she is ask that maniac there!’ He was pointing at Ramon, his pale eyes steeped in the challenge as his fleshy upper lip quivered with anger. Not by even so much as the flicker of a muscle did Ramon respond.
Ula looked at Ramon. His eyes were like glittering fragments of stone, his jaw was set in a hard, merciless line, his hands were linked loosely in front of him. Though he lacked Max’s physical stature, the power in his solid, well-trained body was far meaner and readier to unleash than Max’s would ever be. Or maybe Ula was wrong about that, maybe she was wrong about everything.
Her heart was thudding with fear. There was little doubt in her mind that something terrible was going to happen in this room. No one moved, but it was as though a predatory ritual was unfolding around her. She wondered if Maurice realized what danger he was in, that with Ramon there the threads of his life were fraying by the second.
‘Maurice, you’ve got to know that you’re not going to get away with this,’ Max told him. ‘You’re insane if you ever thought you could. Now just tell me where she is.’
Maurice’s head tilted to one side as he fixed Max with his colourless eyes. ‘Max, I’ve been right here in LA these past two weeks,’ he said silkily, ‘so how the hell would I know where she is?’
‘For Christ’s sake, give it up, man!’ Max yelled. ‘It’s over, can’t you see that? You’re going to jail. You’re finished, through, dead. So just tell me what you’ve done with her?’
Maurice’s smile widened and to Ula’s astonishment he started to applaud. ‘Great show, Max,’ he said. ‘Yeah, great show. You could have me convinced too, if I didn’t know what a fucking bastard you really are.’
Max’s nostrils flared, but his voice remained low as he said, ‘It’d give me a lot of pleasure to break your neck, Maurice, and you better believe I will unless you tell me right now what you’ve done with her – or what you paid some deranged son-of-a-bitch to do for you.’
There was such violence in Max’s voice that Ula felt her breath freeze. She wished to God she knew what was going on here, whom she should believe and who was really baiting whom. She looked at Max and felt her heart strain with a terrible emotion. She’d never doubted him before all this and she hated herself for doubting him now, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t understand why Ramon had been there in Gstaad when Galina had disappeared.
Ellis’s loyalties, it seemed, were much less torn as he attempted to avert a showdown by walking into the middle of the room and saying, ‘Look, let’s try to keep this in perspective, shall we? It’s not the first time she’s disappeared like this and all of us in this room know that there’s every chance she’ll show up . . .’
‘Don’t kid yourself, Ellis!’ Maurice interjected scathingly.
‘Just shut it,’ Ellis barked. ‘You know and I know that she’s been o.d.ing on abuse for years and all that crap about Max being behind it is just that, crap. And I got to tell you, Maurice, if I find out you’re in some way involved in this, so help me God, I’ll kill you myself.’ Ula stared at him in amazement as he went on, almost without breath, ‘What Galina does to herself, or pays other people to do . . .’
‘OK, Ellis,’ Max cut in.
‘No! Let me finish,’ Ellis seethed, still glaring at Maurice. ‘If you’re out to frame Max for a murder he didn’t commit, which is what this is starting to look like, or if you’ve got Galina hidden away somewhere beaten half to death . . .’
‘I’ve been right here in LA!’ Maurice yelled. ‘Jesus Christ, I’ve seen you practically every day.’
‘But you spoke to her on the phone, Maurice,’ Ula reminded him, her heart starting to race. ‘You spoke to her three days ago on the phone right here in this house. I know, because I heard you.’
Maurice’s face had paled, but he wasn’t backing down. ‘Yeah, I spoke to her,’ he shouted, ‘I spoke to her and heard how terrified out of her mind she was. He’d told her it was over! He’d said he didn’t want her any more, that she was out of his life, that as far as he was concerned she was dead. And the next thing I hear is they’re looking for her body. So you tell me, what am I supposed to think now? That I went over there and pushed her off a fucking mountain? Give me a break, will you?’
‘You were arranging something with her, Maurice,’ Ula said, the sound of her own voice make her feel light-headed and out of sync with her surroundings. ‘You told her, you said, “Yeah, I’ll do it, the ticket shouldn’t be a problem, but you’ll get recognized . . .”’ She was thinking hard, trying to recall what else she had overheard, but Maurice’s anger crashed in on her thoughts.
‘I was telling her I’d help get her out of there,’ he yelled. ‘She knew he’, he jabbed a finger towards Ramon, ‘was on his way and she wanted out before he turned up. So I said I’d do what I could.’
Max turned to Ramon, spoke quietly for a moment, then turned back to Maurice as Ramon left the room.
Maurice’s eyes darted between Max and the closing door. ‘Where’s he going?’ he snapped.
‘To call the police,’ Max answered, taking the whisky Ellis was handing him.
‘What the hell for?’ Maurice demanded angrily.
Max looked at him. ‘It could be, Maurice,’ he said, ‘that you’re holding her hostage somewhere, or that you’ve had the human decency to get her hospitalized for whatever injuries she might have. I hope to God that is the case, because if it’s not and she is dead, then you better know now that you’ll go down for her murder as sure as you’re going down for the photographer in Memphis.’
‘What!’ Maurice hissed. ‘Are you out of your mind? I was nowhere near Memphis when that photographer . . .’
‘You arranged it, Maurice. We’ve got the proof and Ramon’s about to give it to the police. The game’s up for your friend Susan Posner too, she’ll never work again, not in this town or any other. Kurt Kovar in New York is about ready to serve her with enough writs to make history. Now if I were you I’d start talking about what you’ve done with Galina.’
‘I’m telling you, I don’t know where she is!’ Maurice cried. ‘She called me, yes, but all she said was that Ramon was on his way and that she had to get out of there before something happened. She said you were real mad at her, madder than you’d ever been and she was afraid to stay.’ He turned to Ula and Ellis. ‘That’s what she said!’ he shouted. ‘She said he was mad at her and she was afraid. OK, she was always saying things like that, but so was Carolyn and look what happened to her. And we’ve only got his word for who really shot Carolyn . . .’
‘Jesus Christ, Maurice,’ Ula screamed, ‘do you think he’d lie about something like that?’
‘He’d lie about anything if he thought it would save his skin,’ Maurice raged. ‘He’s lying now and you just can’t see it. Galina was scared, I’m telling you, more scared than I’ve ever heard her and she wanted my help. So I said I’d send someone over, but by the time he got there they were already out looking for her body. And that’s the truth! I swear it, Ellis, that’s the god-damned truth.’ He swung back round to Max, his eyes suddenly bulging with fury. ‘And i
f you think I’m taking the rap for any god-damned murder, then you better start preparing that kid of yours, because if anyone’s guilty of murder round here . . .’
Ula gasped as Max crossed the room quicker than she could blink and gripping Maurice’s throat slammed him so hard against the wall that Maurice’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and blood started to pour from his nose. ‘If there was the slightest chance I’d get away with it I’d kill you right now, you mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch,’ Max seethed. His eyes were glinting like blades, his mouth was a thin, vicious line of malice. ‘Did you know?’ he hissed, shaking Maurice so hard that the blood flowed even faster. ‘Tell me, did you know about Galina? Because if you did you’re not going to live long enough to . . .’
‘Max, let him go,’ Ellis said, trying to break Max’s grip. ‘He’s not worth it. Let the cops deal with it.’
Time ticked by as Max’s grip tightened and his eyes burned with a fury that surpassed even his pain. In front of him Maurice was taking huge gulping sobs of air that barely made it past his throat. Max glared at him. This man was using what he knew, the confidences, the devastating truth that, as his lawyer and his friend, Max had trusted him with, to manipulate and destroy all their lives. He didn’t want money, he had no need of money, he just wanted revenge for the fact that Carolyn had died not wanting him. It was sick, so god-damned sick the man deserved to die.
‘Max,’ Ellis said quietly.
At last Max turned away and pushing a hand into his hair he tightened his eyes. ‘What a god-damned mess,’ he growled, as Ellis struggled Maurice into a chair. He looked up at Ula. ‘How many times did Carolyn warn me?’ he said bitterly. ‘How many times did she tell me, “Max, one day you’re gonna find out just how dangerous that woman is.” You heard her say it, Ula. Everyone heard her say it, but none of us listened. I never listened and look what happened? Marina, at seven years of age, takes a gun and blows her mother’s brains out.’ His eyes closed at the unspeakable horror of it. ‘Except she didn’t,’ he added, almost inaudibly. ‘Galina did.’
Ula was staring at him. ‘Galina?’ she whispered. ‘You mean . . .’ She stopped, unable to grasp this. Then pressing her hands to her cheeks she said, ‘But we’ve thought . . . All this time, we’ve thought . . .’
‘That Marina did it,’ Max finished for her. ‘I know,’ and the anger in his eyes was greater than Ula had ever seen.
‘How do you know?’ Ula whispered after a while. ‘Who told you it was Galina?’
Max looked at her. ‘Marina told me,’ he said. ‘She told me four nights ago – the night before Galina disappeared.’
Ula took a moment, then said, ‘And Ramon? What was Ramon doing there?’
‘He’d come to get Galina,’ Max answered. ‘I told him to come get her, because I didn’t want her near Marina any more. God-damnit, I couldn’t allow her near Marina, not when I knew . . .’
‘But what was he going to do with her?’
‘Bring her back here, to LA, and force her to get the treatment she should have had a long time ago.’
Ula glanced at Ellis. ‘How did Marina come to tell you?’ she said. ‘I mean, why hasn’t she ever said anything before?’
‘Because I didn’t damn well give her a chance,’ Max raged. ‘I walked in, saw the body, found the gun . . . I never dreamt Galina was there. I thought, like everyone else, that she was here in LA. Marina was the only one who knew she wasn’t. And because I found the gun with Marina, because I’d heard the things she’d said to her mother just hours before . . .’ He stopped, swallowed hard, then pushed himself on. ‘Do you know what made her tell me now?’ he said harshly. ‘What it was that forced her to break the secret Galina had made her keep?’ His voice was steeped in bitterness, his face ravaged with pain. ‘She broke it because she was terrified that Galina was going to do the same to Rhiannon as she’d done to Carolyn. And Marina, in her poor, confused mind, thought she’d be blamed for it, the way she had . . . Jesus Christ Almighty!’ he seethed. ‘Why did I never realize . . . ? She was a baby for Christ’s sake! She couldn’t have done it!’
‘Sssh,’ Ula said, reaching for his hands.
Turning away Max said, ‘That’s why I told Ramon he had to get Galina the hell out of our lives now. I couldn’t have her around Marina a minute longer. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to choke the god-damned life out of her.
‘She left the house a couple of hours after Ramon got there,’ he went on, ‘and that was the last any of us saw of her. One of the maids said she saw her going off in her ski gear, and someone at one of the bars saw her using the phone. I guess she was talking to Maurice, but whether he saw this as another way of framing me for murder or whether he’s hiding her away somewhere I guess we’re going to have to let the police find out.’
Ula inhaled deeply and glanced over at Ellis.
Ellis was staring blankly at the carpet between his feet. There were still so many unanswered questions, but for the moment no one seemed to know where to start.
Then suddenly Max’s eyes returned to Ula’s. ‘Oh Christ,’ he murmured, putting a hand to his head. ‘Rhiannon. I’ve got to get ahold of Rhiannon and tell her what’s happened before anyone starts accusing her . . .’ He stopped suddenly and as he swung round to look at her again Ula’s blood ran cold.
‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Max, why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Rhiannon,’ he said, almost to himself. His eyes suddenly snapped into focus. ‘Jesus Christ, Rhiannon,’ and snatching the phone from Ellis’s shirt pocket he began dialling Rhiannon’s number in London.
It took almost half an hour to track down the number of Perlatonga. By then Max’s face was whiter than ever as starting to dial, he fought back a terrible premonition that it was already too late.
Chapter 28
A SINGLE BEAM of light jittered about the path, hunting the darkness as it led the way through a tangled forest of branches. The raucous twitter and whooping cries of the bush swallowed the muted crunch of footsteps, while the faint sibillance of breath grazed the night with a featherlike touch. Not far away, just the other side of the trees, the chatter of voices could be heard as the camp guards milled around the fire and picked through leftover food. Above, dazzling formations of stars blinked down from the impenetrable darkness of the sky, while hidden watchful eyes gazed from the thickening shadows.
Rhiannon gasped as something fluttered past her face. Elmore put out a hand to steady her, then chuckling, walked on towards her chalet. Keeping close, Rhiannon watched the flashlight dance like a wand through the trees. She was later going to bed than usual, one of the game-ranger’s rifles had gone missing and Andy had wanted all the chalets searched before anyone retired for the night. Nothing had turned up, so now Elmore was escorting Rhiannon along the winding shrub-covered path to her cabin.
When they reached it she turned to wish him goodnight.
‘You make sho’ you lock up good now, ma’am,’ he warned her, training the flashlight on the door. ‘We don’ want no lions comin’ and eatin’ you in the night.’
‘Thank you for the comforting thought, Elmore,’ Rhiannon murmured sweetly.
Laughing, he put his head down and lumbered back into the night, leaving her standing on the chalet deck watching the bobbing beam of light until it disappeared from sight.
Tiredness was coming over her in waves as she turned to push open the door. Closing it behind her, she looked across the small vaulted room to where the mosquito nets fell in soft welcoming folds over the bed and the old-fashioned lamps nestled at the heart of their golden auras. A decanter of fresh water and a glass had been placed on the nightstand. Next to the decanter was a neat pile of books she had brought from London, all of which had yet to be opened.
Trailing a hand over the back of the newly sprung armchair where an untidy pile of clothes tumbled towards the floor, she walked to the foot of the bed and sat down. Above her a three-bladed fan creaked and whirred, stirring the empty ai
r and fluttering the pages of a discarded magazine.
Lowering her head to her hands, she massaged her temples and inhaled the delicate scent of pot-pourri. The longing she felt for Max was so strong all of a sudden, it was almost as if he was there in the room with her. She wished to God he were, for it pained her deeply to think of how he must be suffering now, and to know that there was nothing she could do.
Becoming aware of her surroundings again, she listened to the noise outside. She felt cocooned in a shell of silence as the incessant chatter, whines and yowls of the night swelled around the walls of the chalet. Sudden screeches and protracted howls sprang from the chirruping torrent of sound, while the silent stalk of beasts and slither of quietly hissing snakes melded with the night.
The scent of pot-pourri seemed to be stronger. She looked over to the chest of drawers. The dry crimson roses were spilling from their ceramic bowl and rocking in the teasing draft of the fan. Rhiannon watched for a moment, feeling the strange tension of the night as it whickered and rasped and seemed to close in around her. She wondered what had happened to the gun. Its disappearance had unnerved her; she wanted to know where it was.
She looked up at the mirror and was about to stand when her heart gave a sudden lurch. She spun round, her eyes bulging as horror surged through her. Someone had hung a rope from the rafters of her room.
‘Oh my God!’ she choked, backing away from it. ‘Jesus Christ!’ Her mind was racing so fast she couldn’t think what to do. It was horrible. So menacing and portentous. Who would have done it? What sick mind had draped a noose from the ceiling of her room? Then a sudden madness tore at her heart as someone touched her shoulder.
She swung round, fear lashing through her like a knife. Her scream was stifled by her own fist as she saw a woman standing there. ‘Galina?’ she gasped.
