The Sea Star

by Nash, Jean

  A long moment passed. Susanna held her breath. A tumult of emotions were reflected in Ford’s eyes, all of them violent. Finally, he sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. When he spoke, his voice was almost too low to be heard.

  “Jay didn’t kill Alan and Teddy. My brother did.”

  “What?” Susanna’s mind reeled.

  “Bobby was in league with them from the beginning,” he said reluctantly. “He wanted to get back at Jay for taking over his hotel, but Alan and Teddy had plans of their own which didn’t include Bobby. That’s why he murdered them. Then he tried to implicate Jay for the crimes.”

  “Your brother was the one who sent Jay’s cigarette case to the Boston police?”

  “Yes. He stole it while he was here in Atlantic City for Courtney’s christening. He sent it from here to throw everyone off the track.”

  “But how do you know all this, Ford?”

  “Bobby kept a journal. I found it after he died.”

  Susanna couldn’t speak. That poor, sick man had taken two lives and had almost been responsible for taking a third. Nothing on Earth could justify what he’d done, but had Jay, after all, set those horrible events in motion?

  “Ford,” she said with difficulty, “you once told me that Bobby lost his hotel through his own fault. Was that the truth, or were you lying to spare me?”

  Ford didn’t answer. Susanna watched conflicting emotions play across his face. She saw pain, rage, and bereavement vying for first place. In the end, his innate sense of justice prevailed.

  “I wasn’t lying,” he said. “Jay did nothing to my brother. He simply picked up the pieces after Bobby ruined the hotel.”

  “Then, why did you and Jay have a falling out?”

  “Jay changed,” Ford said. “He lost faith in me, kept things from me. I couldn’t do my job properly if he didn’t trust me. I can’t tell you how much I resented his attitude. I had done nothing to merit such treatment.”

  “Oh, no!” Susanna said suddenly.

  “What is it?” Ford asked. “Do you know why he changed?”

  “Jay thought,” she said unwillingly, “he was sure that you had murdered Alan and Teddy.”

  “I?” Ford said, outraged. “Why, that—”

  “Ford,” Augusta reminded him, “before you found Bobby’s journal, weren’t you equally sure that Jay was the guilty one?”

  Ford’s face flushed. “I had good reason to suspect him.”

  “But don’t you see, Ford?” Augusta said. “Both you and Jay ought to have been smart enough and loyal enough not to suspect each other of murder. And you, Susanna, are also being unfair to Jay. What he did was wrong, I agree, but he ultimately told you the truth.”

  “What if he did?” Susanna said defensively. “Mother, how can I live with a man who deceived me so unconscionably?”

  “Jay loves you, Susanna, and despite what you’re feeling now, I know you love him. You have Courtney, you’re having another child. Will you jeopardize your children’s future by leaving their father and destroying your family? I did that, and I haven’t stopped regretting it. Don’t follow my example, darling. Believe me, if you live to be one hundred, you’ll never be able to forgive yourself.”

  Susanna stayed the night in the Weston suite. She slept very little. She tossed and turned, thinking of Jay and wondering if their damaged lives could ever be repaired. She kept thinking of Augusta’s words: Don’t jeopardize your children’s future. Frightened, she wondered if she should remain with her husband to spare her children pain. But then she thought of Jay’s deceit and her blind faith in him. How could she spend the rest of her life with such a man? Surely her children would sense the animosity she bore him.

  When she finally fell asleep, she began to dream. Jay and Dallas were shouting at each other in the Excelsior’s restaurant. They were about to come to blows when the scene changed, and Susanna was in New York, begging Jay’s sisters for help. Then the Boston police arrived and arrested Susanna for murder, but Ford intervened and said they had no jurisdiction in New York. As the police turned to leave, their uniforms changed into firemen’s gear. An alarm sounded, and the men dashed out to battle the fire at the Saint Andrew. In the next instant, Susanna was out on the sidewalk, watching the hotel go up in flames. People were shouting and running about. Bells kept ringing. The dream was so vivid that Susanna could feel the heat of the fire, could smell the choking acridity of the billowing smoke.

  “Susanna, wake up! Wake up, darling, please!”

  Hands shook her roughly. She opened her eyes, groggy and disoriented, and saw Augusta, fully dressed, bending over her.

  “Susanna, get up. There’s a fire down the street at the Tarleton Hotel. It’s spreading quickly. The wind is blowing sparks all over the Boardwalk. Hurry, darling! Get dressed!”

  Susanna’s heart began to pound. Where were Jay and Courtney? She leaped out of bed. Augusta handed her one of her own skirts and shirtwaists. “These will be a bit too large for you, Susanna, but they’ll have to do.”

  “Mother, where are Jay and Courtney?” she demanded, dressing hastily. “Do you know if they’re all right?”

  “That young girl was here with Courtney. I told her to take him to the Sea Star, where he’ll be safe.”

  “And Jay?” Her voice was shaky.

  “I don’t know, Susanna. Jay is probably helping to get the guests out of the hotel, as Ford is doing.”

  The two women left the suite and went down to the lobby, which was empty except for two national guardsmen, rifles at the ready, standing sentry at the front door.

  “This way, ladies, if you please,” one of the guardsmen said. He could not have been older than nineteen.

  “Where’s my husband?” Susanna asked. “Mr. Grainger, the proprietor.”

  “He’s searching the building with Mr. Weston and Captain Fielding, ma’am, to make sure it’s empty.”

  “My mother and I will wait for him here.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. No one may remain in the hotel. Captain’s orders. Please leave the building and wait a safe distance outside. I’ll tell Mr. Grainger you’re looking for him.”

  Unwillingly, Susanna obeyed. Out on the Boardwalk, which was teeming with firemen and onlookers, she and Augusta watched in paralyzed fascination as the Tarleton Hotel went up in flames. Susanna had an eerie feeling that she was still dreaming. As in the dream, people were shouting and running about. More fire engines, horse carts, and hook and ladder wagons rushed to the scene. Farther down the Boardwalk, flying embers ignited other buildings—Keeler’s Pharmacy, Smith’s Rolling Chairs, the Mexican art store, Meyer Brothers novelties. In the distance, Susanna could see Young’s Ocean Pier filling with curiosity seekers, who watched the spreading destruction with laughter and applause, as if the fire were a Boardwalk attraction presented for their enjoyment.

  “Mother, wait here. I’m going back to the hotel to see if Jay and Ford have finished evacuating the building.”

  But when she got to the Excelsior, the young guardsman told her that Jay and Ford, upon hearing their wives were safe, had gone to offer their assistance wherever it was needed. When she returned to her mother and told her what she’d learned, Augusta suggested they wait at the Sea Star.

  “You go, Mother,” Susanna said. “I have to find Jay.”

  “Susanna, you’ll never find him in this pandemonium.”

  “I must!” she insisted. “I know him. He’ll try to save everyone he can at the risk of his own life. I’ve got to stop him. In the mood he’s in, God knows what will happen to him.”

  “Susanna, Ford is with him,” Augusta said. “He’ll see to it that Jay doesn’t do anything rash. You can’t endanger your life by searching for him while this fire rages. Darling, think of your son and the child you’re carrying.”

  “Mother, please!” she cried. “I must find him. I love him. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

  And as she spoke those words, she knew they were true, and that she�
�d never stop loving him as long as she lived.

  Twenty-three

  She turned and ran off before Augusta could stop her. Everywhere she looked on the Boardwalk, from Illinois Avenue to Tennessee, something else was catching fire. The Windsor, the Luray, and the Traymore hotels were in flames. Shimura’s Japanese store and Woolworth & Company were also ablaze.

  People were looting the stores, risking their lives for useless baubles. National guardsmen and city policemen were threatening the thieves with rifles, clubbing them with nightsticks, and still they dashed into burning stores and came out waving pieces of scrimshaw or boxes of salt water taffy, as if they had stolen the Crown Jewels of England.

  Susanna fought back tears as she ran from block to block, searching for her husband, seeing panic and destruction wherever she turned. She saw firemen overcome by smoke. A man fell through a roof and broke his leg. She saw children crying for their parents, husbands searching for wives, a woman with singed hair and a smudged face wandering dazedly toward the ocean.

  At hotel after hotel, Susanna asked for Jay, only to be told by weary firemen and policemen that they hadn’t seen him. At the Berkeley, she saw Dallas, still in evening clothes, his face and hands black with soot. When she went to him, pushing through a crowd of onlookers, she realized guiltily that she hadn’t given him a thought until this moment.

  “Thank God you’re safe!” she said breathlessly and embraced him with all her might.

  He returned the embrace, holding on to her tightly. “Jesus, Sunny,” he said shakily, “I was so worried about you.” He held her at arm’s length. “Are Mother and Courtney all right?”

  “Yes, they’re at the Sea Star. Dallas,” she said urgently, “have you seen Jay or Ford?”

  “Aren’t they at the Excelsior?”

  “No. It’s been evacuated. They went off to see if they could help with the fire. Is that what you’ve been doing? You reek of smoke.”

  “I’ve been doing what I can,” he said, “but it’s not nearly enough. We need more men here, Sunny. Three fire companies have come in from Philadelphia and another is expected from Camden, but it looks like nothing is going to stop this blaze.”

  “Dallas, you must help me find Jay. I’m sick with worry about him.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start, Sunny. If Jay’s helping to get people out of burning buildings, he could be anywhere on the Boardwalk.”

  “Dallas, please!” she begged. “I must find him. I’m so afraid he’s going to throw caution to the winds and be hurt or...or worse.”

  Dallas eyed her closely, his soot-darkened face no longer a boy’s. He looked so much older than his years now that he had faced death and battled it. “You still love him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I love him,” she said desperately.

  “Despite all he’s done?”

  “Dallas, what he did was wrong, but who on this Earth has never done wrong? He wasn’t at fault for the Saint Andrew fire. I don’t care what Teddy told you. The wiring system had been judged safe by an electrical inspector, so Jay has blamed himself all these years for something beyond his control.”

  “What about the Sea Star?” Dallas reminded her.

  “I wanted him to have it, Dallas. And when he made love to me, I wanted that, too. When I learned I was going to have his child, I couldn’t have been happier. I may not have done it deliberately, but I tricked him into marrying me just as surely as you think he tricked me into marrying him and giving up the Sea Star.”

  Dallas’s mouth hardened stubbornly. “So, just like that, you’re going to forgive him. Doesn’t it matter to you that he sent Nina away, bought Peter’s Beach, and stole my half of the Sea Star for only a fraction of its worth?”

  “Stop it!” she cried. “I’ve had enough lies to last me a lifetime. Jay didn’t steal the Sea Star from you. Have you forgotten the fifteen thousand dollars he gave you?”

  Dallas’s face beneath the soot flushed a deep shade of red. Susanna went on relentlessly, “And he bought Peter’s Beach to save your skin. As for Nina, he took over a responsibility that ought to have been yours.”

  Dallas didn’t answer. There was no possible reply. Susanna glared at him, trembling, while all around them, the conflagration raged on. Atlantic City, the place of their heritage, was disappearing in flames. With it, all the destructive deceptions of their past were being scattered like ashes in the wind.

  At last, Dallas said grudgingly, “Well, why are we standing here? Let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To look for Jay.”

  Susanna saw his lingering resentment. She knew this was a concession, not a surrender. But it was something. It was a beginning; it was better than nothing.

  “Let’s go, then,” she said, suppressing the urge to embrace him.

  Linking arms, conditional allies, they went off to find Jay.

  It took over an hour to finally locate him. By this time, more than two solid blocks facing the Boardwalk were ablaze. Panic ruled the streets. Hotels were still evacuating guests, who carried out as many of their belongings as they could manage.

  Porters rushed to and fro, loading furniture onto wagons. The Academy of Music caught fire. A brisk westerly wind blew smoke and embers toward the shore end of Ocean Pier. The sightseers at the ocean end of the pier didn’t realize until it was almost too late that the rain of sparks and the dense billows of smoke were cutting off their avenue of escape.

  It was then Susanna spotted Jay. He was down on the beach, helping a group of lifesavers take out their surfboats and rescue the hapless crowd.

  “Jay!” she called, but between the roar of the ocean and the cries of the trapped sightseers, he didn’t hear her.

  “Dallas, help them,” she urged, leaning over the Boardwalk railing, her eyes following Jay’s every move.

  Dallas bounded down the stairs to assist the men as they tugged at the two surfboats and dragged them to the water. Jay boarded the first boat afloat, Dallas the second. Once in the water, Jay maneuvered the oars with the skill of a born seaman.

  Susanna watched him fearfully. He was in shirtsleeves. His white linen, always so spotless, was black with soot and grime. Susanna could see the weary lines on his face, even from this distance. She wished she could be with him, rowing the boat with him, her hands gripping his. It seemed an aeon since she had touched him or held him.

  As she watched the surfboats approach the ocean end of the pier, more boats, privately owned, had already reached the site. The sightseers cried out for help; the boat owners yelled back at them. Incredulously, Susanna saw several people on the pier reach into their pocketbooks and throw money into the boats. It was obvious that some unscrupulous men were asking for payment before taking anyone on board.

  Susanna’s nerves tightened with rage. Jay and Dallas were risking their lives along with the lifesavers, and those hoodlums in private boats were charging a fee for their services.

  As she watched in horror, a scuffle broke out between a lifesaver on Jay’s boat and a private boat owner. As some of the trapped crowd jumped into the water and swam to the surfboats, the two men fought, using their oars as weapons. The boat owner struck a hard blow, knocking the oar from the lifesaver’s hand and bloodying his face. Jay picked up the fallen oar, but before he could defend himself, the boat owner struck him hard in the head, and he went hurtling into the water.

  Susanna screamed. Jay had fallen behind the surfboat; she couldn’t see if he had surfaced. A fight broke out between another lifesaver and the boat owner. No one was helping Jay. For all Susanna knew, he was drowning, drowning, surrounded by men who’d been trained to prevent that very tragedy.

  She screamed again, but no one heard her. She clutched at the railing as a wave of dizziness struck her. “Jay,” she said faintly. “Help him. Someone help him.” Then, consciousness faded, and she slumped like a rag doll to the ground.

  Some time later, when she regained consciousness, she was lying in her bed in the Se
a Star south tower. Her mother sat near her, holding her hand. Dr. Griffith stood at the other side of the bed, his fingers on her wrist, monitoring her pulse.

  “Ah, there you are,” he said jovially when she opened her eyes. “We were wondering when you were going to return to us.”

  “Darling!” Augusta exclaimed softly. “What a scare you gave us. How are you feeling?”

  “Woozy,” Susanna murmured. What had happened? She couldn’t remember. And why was she at the Sea Star?

  “That’s to be expected,” Griffith said, mixing some powder into a glass of water. He helped Susanna to a sitting position. “Drink this, my dear. It will make you feel better. Slowly now. There’s a good girl. Now, just lie back again and rest. You’ll be feeling good as gold again before you know it.”

  She felt far from good at the moment. Her temples ached; she was slightly lightheaded. Her eyes weren’t functioning properly. Her mother and Dr. Griffith kept slipping in and out of focus. If she could only see clearly, she might be able to remember what had happened.

  “You needn’t worry about anything,” Augusta told her. “Courtney’s fast asleep, and the baby is unharmed.”

  The baby? Oh, yes. She was pregnant. Her hand went instinctively to her abdomen, and a dart of memory—or of a dream—flashed through her mind. She saw the ocean. Was it her old nightmare of the tidal wave? No. The sea was tranquil, reposeful, like a watery grave...

  “Jay!” She sat bolt upright. Memory was restored to her like an electrifying bolt of lightning. “Where is he, Mother? Is he all right?”

  Augusta rose swiftly and put an arm about her daughter’s shoulders. “Susanna, calm yourself, please. He’s in the next room with Ford and Dallas.”

  “I want to see him.”

  Augusta and Dr. Griffith looked at each other.

  “Not right now, darling. It’s better if you wait a little while, until you’re feeling better.”

  “I want to see him now!”

  Augusta looked at Griffith again, who nodded his head.