Dream of Fair Woman

by Charlotte Armstrong

  ‘When I am in residence,’ Alfreda said, ‘my door is never locked.’ Betty wondered how this woman could be such a monster of conceit, and also, half a mind-reader.

  Alfreda got into Betty’s car, causing it to sag. Peg got in behind. Betty ran around to be the chauffeur. She said, ‘We need you pretty desperately.’

  ‘You do, indeed,’ Alfreda boomed. ‘And so does Lilianne.’

  Betty didn’t want to bring this stubborn conviction into question by mentioning the girl on Opal Street. She took the car winding slowly down the steep road, with due caution. But Peg said, ‘What makes you so sure, Doctor?’ In her voice, Betty could hear her distaste for this woman’s personality.

  Alfreda said, ‘I suppose I shall have to wake her up, to be believed by lay persons.’

  ‘And why not?’ snapped Peg. ‘Why should you be believed?’

  ‘Because,’ said Alfreda with insulting patience, ‘I know, as you evidently do not, that Lilianne has fallen into just such prolonged sleeps before. She is my protégée Lilianne Kraus. I have said so, several times.’

  The car ran on level ground. Betty scooted for the turn around the little park. But Peg said, ‘Betty, please drop me at home. This is where I get off.’

  Betty felt astonished but she had no time to wonder. She did as she was asked, and then turned two sides of the park and swooped into a parking space next to a big black sedan she had seen before.

  ‘Leon Daw is here,’ she told Alfreda.

  ‘No matter. So am I.’

  Alfreda stalked majestically into the lobby with Betty, beside her, feeling as if she were a tug attending an ocean liner.

  Leon Daw, natty in pale grey this morning, was standing beside Megan Royce, who was crisp in black and white. Matt was there facing them, between them and the corridors, with his feet planted hard.

  The liner loosed itself from guidance and Alfreda sailed towards the group. She was a force. Megan braced herself and began a kind of glittering. She became like a knife, but Alfreda was a soft mass that could not be wounded.

  ‘I am Alfreda. I have come for Lilianne Kraus.’

  Leon’s mouth began to work like the mouth of a hungry fish. He seemed to recognise Betty. ‘We are waiting for Dr Prentiss,’ he snapped. ‘Where is he? Why this delay?’

  ‘Lilianne Kraus is my protégée,’ boomed Alfreda.

  Megan said, ‘Well, my goodness, we have no interest in a Lilianne Kraus.’

  ‘Indeed, you have not,’ said Alfreda severely, ‘and you must stop insisting that she is Dorothy Daw.’ She turned on Matt. ‘Now, take me to see her.’

  ‘To see whom?’ Leon shouted. ‘Now, wait a minute. Who is this? What is she talking about?’ He was shouting at Matt. ‘Is this what you were waiting for?’

  ‘This is Dr Dienst,’ said Matt. ‘Lilianne Kraus is an identical twin to Alison Hopkins.’

  They staggered. They both staggered away from Alfreda, who stood like a tower, patient and powerful, and more or less benign.

  ‘So I’m sure,’ said Matt, ‘you’ll understand that Dr Dienst must be allowed to see our girl before we can let you take her away.’

  ‘Twin?’ squeaked Megan.

  ‘No!’ shouted Leon. ‘You will not let her see the girl. Are you crazy? I have it arranged. The ambulance is waiting. You can’t … Dr Prentiss! Dr Prentiss!’

  The doctor was coming towards them with his hand extended, but not to Leon. ‘Good morning, Dr Dienst,’ he said, ‘I’m Dr Prentiss. How are you?’

  ‘Very well, Doctor,’ said Alfreda. ‘I have come to put an end to this confusion.’

  Leon was making strange gobbling sounds.

  Dr Prentiss said, ‘Excuse me a minute, Mr Daw.’ Then to Alfreda he said, with a touch of asperity, ‘You seem very sure that you can do so. This girl has been here since Wednesday last, and you haven’t yet seen her.’

  ‘I telephoned here, on Friday last,’ said Alfreda, ‘and told someone, whom I presumed was able to transmit a message, that you had Lilianne Kraus here. Had you paid attention, there would have been no confusion whatsoever.’

  ‘But you didn’t come.’

  ‘She didn’t come,’ said Leon Daw in an echo. ‘What has this … what …’

  ‘Hush, darling,’ said Megan. ‘Wait.’

  ‘I came,’ said Alfreda, ‘on Saturday as this young man can tell you and should have told you. I was then informed of certain rules. I then stated my own obligations. I had urgent problems, at the time. The new supermarket on Parsons Street cut ground away from my hill and my temple was condemned. I was involved with the saving of my home and property. Now, as for Lilianne, I said, on Saturday morning, that I would return. I have returned. Are you reproaching me?’ This was, she implied, perfectly preposterous.

  ‘I am questioning your pronouncement that this girl is Lilianne Kraus,’ said Dr Prentiss. ‘Especially since I believe these young people have spoken to Lilianne, in the meantime.’

  Leon Daw was gobbling again. Megan took a tight grasp on his arm.

  ‘An exchange of identities,’ said Alfreda comfortably. ‘There is a pattern for it. Lilianne was the “father’s girl,” you see. That’s why she kept his name. But when he left, she was prey to the more dominant personalities of the mother and the sister. The girl, Alison, began very young the practice of stealing her twin’s identity whenever she chose. Which was an evil thing to do. A great evil. It has boomeranged, of course, upon Alison.’

  ‘Alison is dead,’ said Megan thinly.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Alfreda. ‘Not at all.’ She distributed her force between Megan and Leon. ‘You people may only be confused,’ she said. ‘I don’t say otherwise. But certainly you must now agree that if both twins are alive, the other girl, the dead girl, must be your Dorothy Daw.’

  ‘But that … that is perfectly foolish!’ Megan was shrill.

  Alfreda said, ‘No, that is simple arithmetic.’ She turned to Dr Jon. ‘I must discover a bit about how Lilianne fell into this particular spell.’

  Dr Prentiss stepped aside, as if to usher her, and Alfreda began to move. Leon Daw made a clawing gesture as if to catch at her, but Megan caught at his hand. Her high voice scratched. ‘Some fanatic,’ it said cuttingly.

  ‘What is she doing?’ Leon was ready to claw at Matt. ‘What is she going to do?’

  Betty said, ‘She is going to wake up Lilianne.’

  It was Matt Cuneen who staggered. He gave Betty a strange look and turned to hurry after Dr Prentiss and Alfreda.

  Betty said, ‘Why don’t you wait? Excuse me?’ She went after Matt. When the corridor began, she turned to look back and saw Megan silhouetted against the light—a sharp scribbling in black and white. A witch? A wicked one?

  Megan got Leon out of the door and away from all other ears. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Calm down. The truth is, we don’t give a damn about any twin. She can’t hurt anything.’

  ‘Oh, you are bright!’ he raved. ‘You are brilliant! You are so smart. And where is our little Alison? In the meantime?’

  ‘Shh shh.’

  Tony Severson was bounding towards them.

  Leon whirled and started for the parking lot. But Tony jumped nimbly into his path. ‘Mr Daw? Excuse me. Have you heard that Bobbie Hopkins is dead?’ Tony was pleased to be bringing news. ‘Murdered,’ he added, beaming.

  Megan was able to gasp appropriately. Leon simply stared at him.

  ‘They found her this morning,’ Tony babbled on. ‘How about that? Any comment?’

  ‘Why should I comment?’ shouted Leon. He pushed around Tony, who goggled.

  ‘Oh, poor woman,’ said Megan. ‘Oh, please excuse us? We have had an upset.’

  ‘Why? Why? What’s up?’

  Megan collided with Leon, now, as he stopped and turned. ‘You tell me,’ shouted Leon. ‘Did Alison Hopkins have a twin sister?’

  ‘Huh? Oh, yah, sure. Some kind of religious. Not a nun, though. Kind of hermit. Lives all by herself in a little old shack
.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘What do you mean, where?’ Tony was alert, ‘Why?’

  ‘Leon, dear, it’s not good for you to go on like this.’ Megan began to pat and push at the man. ‘Please, darling, go to the car. Try not to think. It’s too upsetting.’

  ‘What is? What?’ Tony persisted.

  But Leon was striding off and Megan was now in Tony’s path. ‘Oh, there is some dreadful woman, in a white thing, and they are letting her see Dorothy. She says that Dorothy is this twin. It seems so mad!’

  ‘Yah, that can’t be,’ said Tony flatly.

  ‘Can’t?’ Megan was on the tip of one toe.

  ‘Nope. Because I just been around there. 438½ Opal Street. Well, she’s either not there right now, or else not answering the door. See, the cops came by, the neighbours said, and she didn’t let them in, either. Probably she’s not crazy about cops. But the point is, I talked to this couple up the street and she was there, all right, last Sunday night. Had a little bitty fire in her shack. This fellow, he made with the garden hose and saved the joint. Well, they tell me this kid never hobnobs, just holes up all the time like a scared rabbit, a real recluse and all that. But the fire kinda smoked her out (ha, hah) so I got witnesses that Lilianne was right here on Opal Street Sunday night. So how could she be in this hospital since Wednesday?’

  Megan said, ‘How indeed?’ She stared at him. She licked her lip.

  ‘Say,’ said Tony abruptly, his eyes bright, his ears ready to wag, ‘was Dorothy Daw an adopted child?’

  Megan gasped and said, ‘Yes. I … I think so.’

  ‘Did she know?’ Tony was excited.

  But Megan put her hand on his arm and cried, ‘Oh, I must go. I must get him home. It isn’t good for his blood pressure to be so dangerously upset and confused. Please. Maybe you could call me, a little later? If you and I … are beginning to think the same thing?’ Her eyes were making themselves worshipful.

  Tony responded by hunching himself up and beginning to spout. ‘Alison’s dead as a doornail. So if Lilianne is here in the hospital, then you got to start asking yourself who was almost burned up on Opal Street.’

  ‘Ah, don’t,’ said Megan tenderly. ‘Don’t say it. Leon mustn’t hear. He’s had enough. Don’t you see? Of course you do, mister …’

  ‘Severson, Tony.’ Tony was like a bud, opening to sun and rain. Practically nobody worshipped him.

  ‘Severson. She must be hiding from her own uncle. And we don’t know why. Oh please, would you call me? Maybe you would go with me, to see her, to find out? I know you are on a newspaper, but how marvellous if we could—just you and I—find her alive and safe and not even ill. If I could only find her, she might talk to me. And let us in. You do think she is there? 438½ did you say? Opal Street, was it? You do think so?’

  ‘I think she probably is there,’ said Tony, furrowing his brow to a look of wisdom. ‘I didn’t bust into the place.’

  ‘Then—oh please—before you broadcast anything, call me? In about an hour? I won’t say a word to anyone else at all.’

  ‘It kinda depends,’ said Tony, shifting his weight, ‘on the real truth about the one here. Whether she is Lilianne.’

  ‘I know. But you could find out what this Alfreda does about that? And let me know? And then …?’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Tony. ‘If that’s a deal. If it’s my story, Mrs Royce.’

  ‘Mrs Daw,’ she said, her voice lingering regretfully. (She would have preferred him, of course.) ‘But of course it is your story! I knew you would help me,’ She smiled at him thinly and ran towards the parking lot on her spindly heels.

  Tony bounded up the steps of the hospital and the strong arm of the guard crossed his path. ‘No Press,’ the man said. ‘They’ve got sick people here.’

  In the car, Megan was sharp. ‘Stop panicking, or this is a mess. Pull yourself together. I’ve got the street number. We’d better go there now.’

  ‘In broad daylight?’ Leon said. ‘Oh, you are cute!’

  ‘I’ll tell you the cute thing to do. Buy Alison out. You should have bought Bobbie Hopkins.’

  ‘Too late.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Alison’s hiding. Did that fat woman in the thing, make any accusations? She’d seen Alison. So Alison’s not talking. Not yet. Why shouldn’t we get to her and pay her enough?’

  ‘She won’t play.’

  ‘Why not? Why not, Leon? Bobbie thought she would play. Don’t be stupid, now. We can’t afford it. How could Bobbie have been trying to get money out of you unless she knew Alison would go along?’

  ‘Bobbie’s dead.’

  ‘Alison doesn’t have to know what happened. You jumped too fast. You should have listened to Bobbie, long enough to find out about the twin. She must have known that. Ah, you don’t understand. You had better just listen.’

  ‘I’m not a murderer!’ he shouted.

  ‘Oh, darling, who said murder? Stop at a gas station. Get us a street map. This Alison is a cheap little would-be movie queen who has no more brains than her mother before her. I can handle her.’

  ‘You did a great job of it before.’ Leon had revived enough to snarl at her. ‘What did you say that made Alison run out on you?’

  ‘Not a thing. I told you. Stop the car. Let me drive. Get out, if you want to.’

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘All right,’ said Megan. ‘Sooner or later, Alison will have to talk. To the police, for instance. Is that what you really want? Listen to me. The way it is now, Alison is officially dead. Her own mother said so. All we need is the alibi. That’s all we ever needed. Let them figure out how Dorothy couldn’t be dead on Monday, and lunching with us on Tuesday. Listen! Listen!’ she screamed in his ear. ‘Alison is awake. She’ll have to listen. We can make her play the part of Dorothy. For a while. For a while. Oh, get out of the car and go hide your silly head while I do this.’

  The car kept trundling along.

  ‘All right,’ said Megan. ‘Then you can go down alone. I am appalled. I am appalled.’ Her voice became her normal affected drawl. ‘Why, that luncheon was, to me, only a harmless little deception to throw the Press off poor dear Dorothy’s track. I thought the girl in the hospital was Dorothy. How should I doubt you? You are an honest man. But I cannot say, in any conscience, that I knew where you were, at all, last Sunday night. Although I do remember … something about a phone call on your tape? Oh, I have been a fool!’

  Leon wrenched at the wheel and turned into a gas station.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ‘I was trained,’ Alfreda was saying, ‘in medicine, as you know. I am very well read in psychiatry. Let me say, gentlemen, that Lilianne’s state is, in my opinion, emotional. I have the advantage of knowing that, in her history, there have been other incidents of prolonged comas emotionally induced.’

  They were gathered in Atwood’s office. The men were listening respectfully to Alfreda, who sat enthroned.

  ‘We seem to have come to much the same conclusion,’ said Dr Prentiss, ‘without benefit of history. Now tell me, why do you assume that you can wake her?’

  ‘There is a spiritual rapport you may not understand,’ said Alfreda complacently. ‘She can sense my presence. She can be reached by me, who will not in any way frighten her and in whom she has great faith. Of course, as I said, I should know all I can about the circumstances.’

  Nut or no nut, Alfreda had an orderly mind when she chose. She began to ask questions and very soon picked out Betty as the one present who had seen and spoken to the girl before she fell asleep on Wednesday.

  So Alfreda caused Betty to be pushed into the centre of the room, and proceeded to extract the whole story in minute detail. ‘I want to put your mind back in time, to that morning, Miss Prentiss. Play it all back. Hear it again. Give me the sound. Every syllable.’

  Betty stumbled along, but as she went she began, under the spell of Alfreda’s powerful and demanding attention, to hear it all again wi
th astonishing clarity.

  ‘Peg said to her, “And what is your name, please?” The girl said, “My name is …”’ Betty broke off quoting, ‘Dolan or something like it. Olin. Tollin. Tollin! That was it!’

  ‘I understand,’ said Alfreda benignly. ‘Go on.’

  ‘So Peg said, “And your first name, Miss Dolan?” And the girl just nodded. She didn’t answer. Peg couldn’t very well insist. Anyway, she didn’t. You see, the girl looked fatigued enough to fall down. We didn’t understand.’

  ‘How should you have understood?’ said Alfreda comfortingly. ‘Now then, what next?’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Dr Prentiss. ‘Explain, please.’

  ‘Why, Lilianne spoke the truth. “My name is stolen”,’ quoted Alfreda. ‘I would have recognised what she meant to tell, because I knew that her twin was in the habit of stealing her name, her reputation, and her place in the world.’

  Atwood had tented his fingers. He groaned softly.

  ‘Is that clear? Then go on, Miss Prentiss,’ Alfreda commanded.

  So Betty went on. Quoting herself, she thought that her words, out of time, place, and mood, sounded idiotic. “Well, I’m off to the wars. I’ll see you later, probably. Gosh, you look as if you could sleep for a week”.’ Betty made a gesture of ‘finis.’

  Alfreda sighed. ‘Very helpful,’ she said. ‘Now that was the last word said to her?’

  ‘That was it. As far as I know.’

  ‘What is the day of the week, today?’

  ‘Today is Tuesday,’ said Atwood, after a stunned moment.

  ‘And she fell asleep on Wednesday, last. The week is almost up, then.’

  ‘You mean to say—’

  ‘It was a suggestion,’ said Alfreda, ‘that may have appealed to her.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ moaned Betty softly.

  ‘Why, I can imagine that it fell in well,’ said Alfreda. ‘Lilianne was presented with a situation to which she had no solution. I feel sure that her sister must have appeared and simply stolen her place and selfhood and put her out. So Lilianne, quite naturally, went looking for me. She had no one else. She is much too shy, has been too often wounded, to go willingly to strangers. I was her’—the woman hesitated and chose a word—‘mentor, you see, and the one in the world who would immediately understand what her sister had done to her, once again. But the temple, having been condemned, was closed on that day. I was not there. She could not find me.’