They went immediately to Gus’ room. The nurse and doctor were both there, and Gus was sitting up.
“Gus.” Zack spoke hesitantly, not sure what he would find.
Gus turned and looked at him. His eyes were full of fear. He stared vacantly at Zack. “Who am I?” he asked. “Why can’t I remember? What happened to me?”
Zack’s hopes sank. He walked over to the doctor and motioned for him to join him outside so he could talk to him privately.
Renee stayed in the room with Gus.
“How long will this go on?” Zack asked the doctor.
“It’s hard to tell,” the doctor replied. “It may be days—months—maybe years.”
“But he will remember eventually—won’t he?”
“I certainly hope so. In the meantime, be as encouraging as you can. That’s the best thing you can do for your friend. He mustn’t be aware of your discouragement.”
Zack looked desperate. “His memory is so important,” he mumbled.
“What is the urgency?” the doctor asked him.
“The lives of many people are at stake. It’s a long story. He was talking to me on the phone about to tell me something vital when he was attacked. If he doesn’t remember soon, I’ll have to start over.” He paused. “How soon can he be released from the hospital?”
“Probably tomorrow. He’s in perfect health except for his loss of memory.”
“Is he okay to be on his own, or should someone be with him?”
“Where does he live?” the doctor asked him. “Is he married? Does he have any relatives?”
“His wife died several years ago,” Zack told the doctor. “He was in Spain teaching a course to the Spanish police on how to be a detective. He came here to investigate something for me when this happened.”
“There’s no one else?” the doctor asked.
“He has a sister in Westport, Connecticut. She’s a widow. I’ll call her and see if she can come here and take Gus to her home. I’ll feel a lot better knowing he has a close relative to look after him. I need to know that he’s taken proper care of before I can continue with the investigation.”
At this point Renee came out to them. “Zack, he’s asking for you.”
Zack jumped. “Does he remember—?”
Renee shook her head. “I wish I could say yes, but—no. He seems to be reaching out to you. He must feel instinctively that he was close to you.”
“That’s a good sign!” the doctor exclaimed. “Something is prodding his memory!”
Zack rushed back into Gus’ room. Then he remembered what the doctor said—he mustn’t show his discouragement to Gus if he wanted to help him. He must also be careful not to push at Gus to regain his memory. Force never accomplished anything. He must remain calm.
He went over to the bed. “Gus, you wanted to see me?”
“Did you send me to Paris?” he asked Zack.
Zack’s hopes rose. “Yes. Did the doctor tell you that, or did you remember it?”
Gus was silent for a moment. He looked at the doctor. “I don’t think you told me. Did you?”
“No, I didn’t. You remembered that all by yourself.”
Gus rubbed his head. “Why can’t I remember the rest?”
“You will,” the doctor told him. “You’re showing signs of it already. But you must be patient. Don’t push at it. That will delay the healing.”
“Gus, do you remember—” Zack hesitated, making sure he worded this just right—“just before I asked you to come here to investigate something, you were in Spain teaching a class of policemen how to be detectives?”
Gus looked in a fog. “No—no, I don’t remember. I was a detective? Where?”
“In Los Angeles. You were my partner.”
“Was I a good one?”
“The best!” Zack assured him. “We were successful in almost all our cases.”
A look of awareness shone in his eyes. “Los Angeles! That’s in California!”
“Right! Do you remember any of the cases we worked on?”
Gus pondered Zack’s question. “A name keeps coming to me. Hil—uh—Hil—” He stammered and tears came to his eyes. “I almost had it. Why can’t I remember?”
Zack looked at the doctor, wondering if he should tell Gus the name he was trying to think of. The doctor nodded encouragingly. “The name you’re trying to remember is Hildy. Hildy Stuart. Does that ring a bell?”
Gus’ eyes lit up in recognition. “Yes! Yes! I remember! And another name—uh—Gre—uh—Gregory Wil—” He stopped, looking to Zack for help.
Zack’s heart leaped with hope. “Gregory Wilcox!” Zack interrupted. “Do you remember anything else?”
The light in Gus’ eyes faded. “No. Did your sending me to Paris have anything to do with them?”
“It has to do with Hildy’s granddaughter, Courtney. Are you sure you can’t remember any more?”
Gus shook his head. He lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes.
The doctor came over and spoke to Zack. “I think that’s enough for now. He’s getting tired. You’d better leave and let him rest. Come back tomorrow. You’ll call his sister?”
“Yes. Right away,” Zack replied. “And I’ll call the Police Academy in Madrid and tell them what happened. Obviously, Gus is in no condition to teach. I’ll take care of it.”
A much encouraged Zack, with Renee, left and went down to her patrol car. It seemed to Zack that the sun was shining a bit more brightly, and the accordion player on the corner was playing with a gaiety that matched the newfound gaiety in Zack’s heart—for two reasons: He felt a lift to his spirits that Gus’ memory was showing signs of returning, and now with Renee at his side life was taking on a new meaning.
“I’ll drop you off at your hotel,” Renee broke into his thoughts. “I think we can be very grateful that Gus is beginning to remember a few things. It’s a good sign.”
“Yes, it is,” Zack agreed, “but we don’t know how long it will be before he recalls what he found out before he was attacked. I feel an urgency to try and uncover what I can by myself. I can’t wait for Gus. As soon as his sister gets here I’ll start looking into it. But I have to make sure Gus is okay first. I’ll have to prepare him to accept the fact that he has a sister who’ll be taking him to her home in Connecticut.”
They had reached La Grande Veue Hotel, and Zack got out. “I’ll call you tomorrow around seven in the morning and we’ll plan to meet somewhere. In the meantime, I’ll call Spain and ask them to pack Gus’ things and mail them to his sister in California.”
“Why don’t we meet here for breakfast?” Renee suggested. “That way we can go to the hospital together and pick up Gus. By that time we’ll know when his sister’s plane gets in. We can take him to the airport, and she can take over from there. She may want to fly right back to the States.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you here tomorrow in the dining room at—say—” He looked at his watch. “Eight o’clock?”
“Perfect.” Renee started the engine. “See you tomorrow morning,” she said as she drove off.
CHAPTER XIX
Courtney Stuart Dubonnet was the toast of Broadway. People from far and wide came to see her star in the musical she wrote. Many of them had seen Cammie years before, and contrary to her fear that she wouldn’t live up to her mother’s talent, Courtney was being hailed as just as great a performer as Cammie.
After each show they went to the same private club where they had gone the night of Courtney’s debut.
Manny came to the stage door after every performance asking for Courtney, but Jay and Jeremy had given strict orders that no one be allowed back stage. After each performance they took Courtney down to the basement and out a side door where a limousine was waiting. They told her it wa
s to protect her from all the autograph seekers, and she didn’t question it.
Courtney had all but forgotten Manny. She and Glen had become very close. There was a bond that involved more than just working together. Glen was hopelessly in love with Courtney, and she had developed feelings for him that were far deeper than mere friendship. At her tender age of twenty she had never experienced such depth of emotion, and she found it puzzling and a little scary.
One night after returning from their midnight snack, Glen and Courtney decided to take a moonlight drive through Central Park. It was a beautiful starlit night. The moon was so bright it seemed almost like daylight.
Glen drove the car in by the small lake. The car stereo was playing one of the beautiful songs from “Déjà Vu.” He gazed at Courtney, his eyes full of love, and took her in his arms. The passion that flared up between them swept them up in an emotional tide so strong it was almost unbearable.
“Courtney,” Glen whispered, “I love you. I want you to marry me.” He kissed her deeply, passionately, until they seemed to breathe as one. “What do you say? Please marry me.”
Courtney pressed against him and wound her arms around his neck. “I love you, too, Glen—with all my heart.”
Glen reached into his pocket and handed her a small, velvet box.
She opened it and looked at him, wide-eyed. Nestled in the fold was a clear three-carat diamond surrounded by more tiny diamonds set in an antique style. “Oh, Glen,” she gasped, “it’s beautiful!”
“I know you’ve always loved the ring your grandfather gave your grandmother when they became engaged,” he told her, “so I had it duplicated.”
Courtney began to cry.
Glen was puzzled. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
“Glen—I love you—really I do. It’s just that—that—”
“What, Courtney?”
“I have to think about it. It’s so sudden—I didn’t expect this—”
Glen turned his head away. “It’s okay, Courtney. You think about it.” He closed the box and put it back into his pocket. “I think we’d better get back to the hotel. You need your rest.” He turned on the ignition and headed back. They reached the hotel and he let her off. “See you tomorrow,” he said, and left abruptly.
I hurt him, Courtney realized. Why did I do that? She was unable to explain it, even to herself. She stared after him as he drove away.
She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. Cammie and Jeremy were staying in the same hotel with Courtney, in a room right next to hers. She walked down the corridor and knocked on their door. “May I come in?” she pleaded. “I need to talk to you.”
“Of course, sweetie.” Cammie ushered her over to one of the comfortable chairs by the window. The lights of Broadway could be seen twinkling gaily, and as Courtney looked out she could see the marquee with her name on it—not only as the writer and composer, but as the star of “Déjà Vu.” She was basking in the throes of success, but for some strange reason there lurked in the back of her mind a fear that it could all come suddenly crashing down. Why do I feel this way? she wondered. Where do these thoughts come from? Why didn’t I accept Glen’s proposal? I love him! Why didn’t I just say “yes”? She felt that something was terribly wrong.
“What’s on your mind, dear?” Cammie asked her.
“Mom—” She hesitated. How do I explain this, she fretted to herself, when I don’t understand it myself?
“What is it, sweetie?” Cammie persisted.
Courtney spoke shyly. “Mom—how do you know when you’re in love?”
Cammie thought for a minute. “Well, dear—uh—you just know.”
“But how do you know?”
“Who are you talking about? Glen?”
Courtney nodded.
Jeremy had just come out of the bathroom wearing his robe after taking his shower. “What’s going on?” he asked. “You two look so serious.”
Cammie turned and posed the question to him. “Maybe you can answer Courtney’s question,” she said. “She wants to know how you can tell if you’re really in love.”
Jeremy walked over to Courtney and held out his arms.
As she stood up and faced him, she lost all control and began to sob.
“Is this about Glen?” he asked, consoling her. “He’s a fine man. They don’t come any finer. Nothing would make your mother and me happier. What makes you uncertain?”
Courtney wiped her eyes and sat down again. “I’m in love with him. I know I am. He’s so great. I think I feel the same way you two do toward each other, but—”
“But what?” Jeremy asked.
Courtney frowned. “I don’t know. I want to be with him the rest of my life—I really do, but—something is making me wonder—something in my head keeps talking to me. It’s as though someone is dictating to me and I’m not thinking my own thoughts. I can’t explain it.” She became quite agitated, and began to cry again. “What’s the matter with me?” she asked in a panic.
Jeremy became suspicious. This was reminiscent of several weeks ago when Manny had her under his spell. Déjà vu! “Have you ever felt like this before?” he asked her.
“I don’t know. I remember something not too long ago.”
She paused to catch her breath. “It’s all so vague.”
Cammie kneeled before Courtney and took her hand in hers. “Did something happen tonight?”
Tears ran down Courtney’s face. “Glen asked me to marry him. He had a ring—it was beautiful. I wanted to say yes. I tried, but—I—I couldn’t. Something stopped me. Oh, Daddy—Mommy—something’s awfully wrong!”
Jeremy’s heart chilled. Was Manny trying to manipulate her again? Could he do it from the audience? No! That’s not possible!
“You need a good night’s sleep,” he told Courtney. “Perhaps you’d better stay with us tonight. There’s an extra bed in here.”
Cammie picked up the phone and dialed the housekeeper. “Would you please send a maid to Room #304? We need to have the extra bed made up. Thank you.” She made a valiant effort, but couldn’t hide her concern.
“Thanks, Mom. I really do need to stay with you and Daddy.” Courtney put her hand to her head. Her brow was wet. “I’m awfully tired,” she told them. “My mind is spinning.”
As soon as the maid had the bed ready, Courtney crawled into it, and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Cammie motioned to Jeremy to join her in the sitting room adjoining their bedroom. She pulled the sliding door across, shutting out any sound.
“What do you suppose is going on?” she asked Jeremy in a low tone.
Jeremy looked grim. “I wonder if Manny is controlling her again—this time from the audience?”
Cammie was stunned. “Can he do that?”
“I don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “I’m going to call Nate and invite him and his wife to tomorrow night’s performance. I know they’ve seen ‘Déjà Vu,’ but not with Courtney in the starring role. I’m sure they’ll be delighted. Maybe he can tell us what’s going on in Courtney’s head. Things have been going so smoothly—we can’t afford to let this happen.” He picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Drake’s home in Scarsdale. “Nate,” he said as soon as he answered. “We need your advice. I think Manny may be at it again. Could you and your wife attend the theatre tomorrow night?” He waited. “Oh, that’s great!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have tickets waiting for you. Thank you, Nate.”
He was about to hang up when Nate posed a question. “I take it Manny has been attending the theatre?”
“Yes, he has,” Jeremy replied, “but we’ve kept him away from Courtney.” He noticed a hesitance on Nate’s part. “Why, Nate? Is that a problem?”
Nate was silent for a moment. “Do you think we can
sit some place where Manny can’t see us? Where does he usually sit, or don’t you know?”
“Not really. But you’ll be sitting in our private box. You can sit in the back. I’m sure he can’t see you there.”
Nate sounded relieved. “Thanks. I think that’s best.” He paused. “Have you heard from Zack since he flew to Paris?”
“He called Jay. He found his partner badly wounded. He’s in the hospital recovering, but he’s lost his memory. Until he regains it, Zack will be staying in Paris and doing some investigating himself. We don’t know how long it will be before he can return. We’ll see you and Julia tomorrow night.”
Jeremy hung up and turned to Cammie, puzzled. “Strange—”
“What’s the problem?” Cammie asked him. “Are they coming?”
“Yes, but—” He paused.
“But what?”
“He asked for seats where Manny can’t see them.”
“Is Nate afraid of him?”
“It sure sounds like it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to him. Remember? He almost got the blame for the money Manny stole. Maybe he’s afraid Manny is angry that he turned him in to the authorities.”
“Perhaps. Nate must think he and his wife are in danger. We don’t know what Manny is capable of, but I’m sure Nate does. Maybe he’s like Gregory and Lilli. You know—stop at nothing, not even murder, to destroy whatever—whoever—gets in his way.”
“But what can he possibly want from Courtney?” Cammie asked. “Oh, I don’t know what to think,” she sighed. “It’s all such a mystery. We’re guessing. There are too many maybes.” She looked at Jeremy, trying to hide her fears. “I wish Zack were here. He could zero right in on whatever it is.”
Jeremy echoed her thoughts. “How many times in the past few weeks I’ve wished the same thing!” He grimaced as he took her in his arms and tried to comfort her. “There’s nothing we can do tonight,” he said. “We’d better get some sleep. We’ll think more clearly in the morning.”
They returned to the bedroom. Courtney was restless, and stirred in her sleep.
Cast An Evil Eye Page 10
