A Stranger in the Mirror (14 page)

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Authors: Sidney Sheldon

Tags: #General, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Mystery, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction - General, #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: A Stranger in the Mirror
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�ter, and the air was filled with the mysterious sounds of a pcret world, a microcosm of the universe, where millions of (ny unseen creatures made love and pseyed and were preyed toon and died. ; Josephine and David sat in the car, silent, listening to lie sounds of the night. Josephine watched him, sitting ishind the wheel of the car, his handsome face intense and ferious. She had never loved him as much as she loved him t that moment. She wanted to do something wonderful for Sffl, to give him something to let him know how much she iared for him. And suddenly she knew what she was going b do. "Let's go for a swim, David," she said. "We didn't bring bathing suits." 'It doesn't matter." He turned to look at her and started to speak, but bsephine was out of the car, running down to the shore of tie lake. As she started to undress she could hear him moving ehind her. She plunged into the warm water. A moment rter David was beside her. "Josie..." She turned toward him, then into him, her body hurting nth wanting, hungry for him. They embraced in the water nd she could feel the male hardness of him pressed against ;er, and he said, "We can't. Josie." His voice was choked with is desire for her. She reached down for him and said, "Yes. )h, yes, David." They were back on the shore and he was on top of her nd inside her and one with her and they were both a part f the stars and the earth and the velvet night. They lay together a long time, holding each other. It ras not until much later, after David had dropped her off t home, that Josephine remembered that he had not pro- osed to her. But it no longer mattered. What they had bared together was more binding than any marriage ceremony. Ie would propose tomorrow.

Josephine slept until noon the next day. She woke up rith a smile on her face. The smiie was still there when her

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mother came into the bedroom carrying a lovely old wedding dress. "Go down to Brubaker's and get me twelve yards of tulle right away. Mrs. Topping just brought me her wedding dress. I have to make it over for Cissy by Saturday. She and David Kenyon are getting married."

David Kenyon had gone to see his mother as soon as he drove Josephine home. She was in bed, a tiny, frail woman who had once been very beautiful. His mother opened her eyes when David walked into her dimly, lit bedroom. She smiled when she saw who it was. "Hello, son. You're up late." "I was out with Josephine, Mother." She said nothing, just watching him with her intelligent gray eyes. "I'm going to marry her," David said. She shook her head slowly. "I can't let you make a mistake like that, David." "You don't really know Josephine. She's -- " "I'm sure she's a lovely girl. But she's not suitable to be a Kenyon wife. Cissy Topping would make you happy. And if you married her, it would make me happy." He took her frail hand in his and said, "I love you very much, Mother, but I'm capable of making my own decisions." "Are you really?" she asked softly. "Do you always do the right thing?" He stared at her and she said, "Can you always be trusted to act properly, David? Not to lose your head? Not to do terrible --" He snatched his hand away. "Do you always know what you're doing, son?" Her voice was even softer now. "Mother, for God's sake!" "You've done enough to this family already, David. Don't burden me any further. I don't think I could bear it." His face was white. "You know I didn't -- I couldn't help--" "You're too old to send away again. You're a man now. I want you to act like one."

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His voice was anguished. "I -- I love her --" She was seized with a spasm, and David summoned the ctor. Later, he and the doctor had a talk. "I'm afraid your mother hasn't much longer, David." And so the decision was made for him. He went to see Cissy Topping. "I'm in love with someone else," David said. "My mother ways thought that you and I --" "So did I, darling." "I know it's a terrible thing to ask, but -- would you be killing to marry me until -- until my mother dies, and then live me a divorce?" fr Cissy looked at him and said softly, "If that's what you leant, David." 11 He felt as though an unbearable weight had been lifted Stom his shoulders. "Thank you. Cissy, I can't tell you how much--" She smiled and said, "What are old friends for?"

The moment David left. Cissy Topping telephoned David's mother. All she said was, "It's all arranged."

The one thing David Kenyon had not anticipated was faat Josephine would hear about the forthcoming marriage xfore he could explain everything to her. When David arrived it Josephine's home, he was met at the door by Mrs. Czinsld. "I'd like to see Josephine," he said. She glared at him with eyes filled with malicious triumph. The Lord Jesus shall overcome and smite down His enemies, and the wicked shall be damned forever." David said patiently, "I want to talk to Josephine." "She's gone," Mrs. Czinsld said. "She's gone away!" The dusty Greyhound Odessa-El Paso-San BemardinoLos Angeles bus pulled into the Hollywood depot on Vine Street at seven a.m., and somewhere during the fifteen-hundred-mile, two-day Journey, Josephine Czinski had become Jill Castle. Outwardly, she looked like the same person. It was inside that she had changed. Something ui her was gone. The laughter had died. The moment she had heard the news, Josephine knew that she must escape. She began to mindlessly throw her clothes into a suitcase. She had no idea where she was going or what she would do when she got there. She only knew that she had to get away from this place at once. It was when she was walking out of her bedroom and saw the photographs of the movie stars on her wall that she suddenly knew where she was going. Two hours later, she was on the bus for Hollywood. Odessa and everyone in it receded in her mind, fading faster and faster as the bus swept her toward her new destiny. She tried to make herself forget her raging headache. Perhaps she should have seen a doctor about the terrible pains in her head. But now she no longer cared. That was part of her past, and she was sure they would go away. From now on life was going to be wonderful. Josephine Czinski was dead. Long live Jill Castle. BOOK TWO Toby Temple became a superstar because of the unlikely aposition of a paternity suit, a ruptured appendix and the ssident of the United States.

The Washington Press Club was giving its annual dinner, 1 the guest of honor was the President. It was a prestigious ur attended by the Vice-President, senators. Cabinet mbers. Chief Justices and anyone else who could buy, tow or steal a ticket. Because the event was always given smational press coverage, the job of master of ceremonies 1 become a highly prized plum. This year, one of America's i comedians had been chosen to emcee the show. One week after he had accepted, he was named defendant in a paternity ait involving a fifteen-year-old girl. On the advice of his tomey, the comedian immediately left the country for an definite vacation. The dinner committee turned to their nber two choice, a popular motion-picture and television ". He arrived in Washington the night before the dinner. e following afternoon, on the day of the banquet, his agent phoned to rnnounce that the actor was in the hospital, dergoing emergency surgery for a burst appendix. There were only six hours left before the dinner. The amittee frantically went through a list of possible replacents. The important names were busy doing a movie or a ;vision show, or were too far away to get to Washington in e. One by one, the candidates were eliminated and finally, ar the bottom of the list, the name of Toby Temple appeared. A committee member shook his head. "Temple's a nightclub comic. He's too wild. We wouldn't dare turn him loose on the President." "He'd be all right if we could get him to tone down his material." The chairman of the committee looked around and said, "I'll tell you what's great about him, fellows. He's in New York City and he can be here in an hour. The god damned dinner is tonight!" That was how the committee selected Toby Temple.

As Toby looked around the crowded banquet hall, he thought to himself that if a bomb were dropped here tonight, the federal government of the United States would be leaderless. The President was seated in the center of the speakers' table on the dais. Half a dozen Secret Service men stood behind him. In the last-minute rush of putting everything together, no one had remembered to introduce Toby to the President, but Toby did not mind. The President will remember me, Toby thought. He recalled his meeting with Downey, the chairman of the dinner committee. Downey had said, "We love your humor, Toby. You're very funny when you attack people. However--" He had paused to clear his throat. "This is -- er -- a sensitive group here tonight. Don't get me wrong. It's not that they can't take a little joke on themselves, but everything said in this room tonight is going to be reported by the news media .all over the world. Naturally, none of us wants anything said that would hold the President of the United States or members of Congress up to ridicule. In other words, we want you to be funny, but we don't want you to get anyone mad." "Trust me." Toby had smiled. The dinner plates were being cleared and Downey was standing in front of the microphone. "Mr. President, honored guests, it's my pleasure to introduce to you our master of ceremonies, one of our brightest young comedians, Mr. Toby Temple!" There was polite applause as Toby rose to his feet and

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alked over to the microphone. He looked out at the audience, en turned to the President of the United States. The President was a simple, homespun man. He did not dieve in what he called top-hat diplomacy. "People to sople," he had said in a nationwide speech, "that's what we sed. We've got to quit depending on computers and start listing our instincts again. When I sit down with the heads foreign powers, I like to negotiate by the seat of my pants." had become a popular phrase. Now Toby looked at the President of the United States id said, his voice choked with pride, "Mr. President, I can- it tell you what a thrill it is for me to be up here on the me podium with the man who has the whole world wired to s ass." There was a shocked hush for a long moment, then the resident grinned, guffawed, and the audience suddenly yloded with laughter and applause. From that moment on, oby could do no wrong. He attacked the senators in the from, the Supreme Court, the press. They adored it. They reamed and howled, because they knew Toby did not really can a word of what he said. It was excruciatingly funny tow these insults coming from that boyish, innocent face. here were foreign ministers there that night. Toby addressed iem in a double-talk version of their own languages that mnded so real that they were nodding in agreement. He was i idiot-savant, reeling off patter that praised them, berated iem, and the meaning of his wild gibberish was so dear that 'ery person in the room understood what Toby was saying. He received a standing ovation. The President walked rer to Toby and said, "That was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Vie giving a little supper at the White House Monday [ght, Toby, and I'd be delighted..." The following day, all the newspapers wrote about Toby emple's triumph. His remarks were quoted everywhere. He as asked to entertain at the White House. There, he was an 'ea bigger sensation. Important offers began pouring in from 1 over the world. Toby played the Palladium in London, he ive a command performance for the Queen, he was asked to induct symphony orchestras for charity and to serve on the

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National Arts Committee. He played golf with the President frequently and was invited to dinner at the White House again and again. Toby met legislators and governors and the heads of America's largest corporations. He insulted them all, and the more he attacked them, the more charmed they were. They adored having Toby around, turning his acerbic wit loose on their guests. Toby's friendship became a symbol of prestige among the Brahmins. The offers that were coming in were phenomenal. Clifton Lawrence was as excited about them as Toby, and Clifton's excitement had nothing to do with business or money. Toby Temple had been the most wonderful thing that had happened to him in years, for he felt as though Toby were his son. He had spent more time on Toby's career than on any of his other clients, but it had been worth it. Toby had worked hard, had perfected his talent until it shone like a diamond. And he was appreciative and generous, something that was rare in this business. "Every top hotel in Vegas is after you," Clifton Lawrence told Toby. "Money is no object. They want you, period. I have scripts on my desk from Fox, LIniversal, Pan-Pacific -- all starring parts. You can do a tour of Europe, any guest shot you want, or you can have your own television show on any of the networks. That would still give you time to do Vegas and a picture a year." "How much could I make with my own television show, Cliff?" "I think I can push them up to ten thousand a week for ah hour variety show. They'll have to give us a firm two years, maybe three. If they want you badly enough, they'll go for it." Toby leaned back on the couch, exulting. Ten thousand a show, say forty shows a year. In three years, that would come to over one million dollars for telling the world what he thought of it! He looked over at Clifton. The little agent was trying to play it cool, but Toby could see that he was eager. He wanted Toby to make the television deal. Why not? Clifton could pick up a hundred-andtwentythousand-dollar commission for Toby's talent and sweat. Did Clifton really deserve that kind of money? He had never had to work his ass

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in filthy little clubs or have drunken audiences throw ipty beer bottles at him or go to greedy quacks in nameless lages to have a clap treated because the only girls available re the raddled whores around the Toilet Circuit. What did ifton Lawrence know of the cockroach-ridden rooms and ie greasy food and the endless procession of all-night bus ides going from one hell-hole to another? He could never nderstand. One critic had called Toby an overnight success, nd Toby had laughed aloud. Now, sitting in Clifton .^awrence's office, be said, "I want my own television show." ;, Six weeks later, the deal was signed with Consolidated 'Broadcasting. ' "The network wants a studio to do the deficit financing," �Clifton Lawrence told Toby. "I like the idea because I can .parlay it into a picture deal." , "Which studio?" > "Pan-Pacific." j Toby frowned. "Sam Winters?" "That's right. For my money, he's the best studio head in the business. Besides, he owns a property I want for you, :The Kid Goes West." ;,. Toby said, "I was in the army with Winters. Okay. But i he owes me one. Shaft the bastard!" Clifton Lawrence and Sam Winters were in the steam room in the gymnasium at Pan-Pacific Studios, breathing in the eucalyptus scent of the heated air. ' "This is the life," the little agent sighed. "Who needs : money?" I Sam grinned. "Why don't you talk like that when we're I negotiating. Cliff?" | "I don't want to spoil you, dear boy." , "I hear that you made a deal with Toby Temple at | Consolidated Broadcasting." | "Yeah. Biggest deal they've ever made." I "Where are you going to get the deficit financing for the I show?" I "Why, Sam?" "We could be interested. I might even throw in a picture deal. I just bought a comedy called The Kid Goes West. It hasn't been announced yet. I think Toby'd be perfect for it." Clifton Lawrence frowned and said, "Shit! I wish I'd known about this earlier, Sam. I've made a dear at MGM." "Have you closed yet?" "Well, practically. I gave Aem my word..." Twenty minutes later, Clifton Lawrence had negotiated a lucrative arrangement for Toby Temple in which PanPadfic Studios would produce "The Toby Temple Show" and star him in The Kid Goes West. The negotiations could have gone on longer, but the steam room had become unbearably hot.

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