A Stranger in the Mirror (29 page)

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-- wouldn't you?... A comic opens funny doors. A comedian opens doors funny. And Toby Temple had worked and learned and gone to the top. He was a prick, Rainger was thinking. But he was our prick. Clifton Lawrence was there. The little agent had been to the barber and his clothes were freshly pressed, but his eyes gave him away. They were the eyes of a failure among his peers. Clifton was lost in memories, too. He was remembering that first preposterous phone call. There's a young comic Sam Goldwyn wants you to see... and Toby's performance at the school. You don't have to eat the entire jar of cosier to know if it's good, right?... I've decided to take you on as a client, Toby.... If you can put the beer drinkers in your pocket, the champagne crowd will be a push-over.. .. I can make you the biggest star in the business. Everyone had wanted Toby Temple: the studios, the networks, the nightclubs. You've got so many clients that sometimes I think you don't pay enough attention to me.... It's like a group fuck. Cliff. Somebody always gets left with a hard-on.... I need your advice. Cliff.... It's this girl... Clifton Lawrence had a lot to remember. Next to Clifton stood Alice Tanner. She was absorbed in the memory 'of Toby's first audition in her office. Somewhere, hidden under all those movie stars, is a young man with a lot of talent.... After seeing thbse pros last night, I -- I don't think I have it. And falling in love with him. Oh, Toby, I love you so much.... I love you, too, Alice.... Then he was gone. But she was grateful that she had once had him. Al Caruso had come to pay tribute. He was stooped and gray and his brown Santa Claus eyes were filled with tears. He was remembering how wonderful Toby had been to Millie. Sam Winters was there. He was thinking of all the pleasure Toby Temple had given to millions of people and he wondered how one measured that against the pain that Toby had given to a few. Someone nudged Sam and he turned to see a pretty, dark-haired girl, about eighteen. "You don't know me, Mr. Winters"--she smiled--"but I heard you're looking for a

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girl for the new William Forbes movie. I'm from Ohio, and..." David Kenyon was there, Jill had asked him not to come, but David had insisted. He wanted to be near her. Jill supposed that it could do no harm now. She was finished with her performance. The play had closed and her part was over. Jill was so glad and so dred. It was as though the fiery ordeal she had gone through had burned away the hard core of bitterness within her, had cauterized all the hurts and the disappointments and the hatreds. Jill Castle had died in the holocaust and Josephine Czinski had been reborn in the ashes. She was at peace again, filled with a love for everyone and a contentment she had not known since she was a young girl. She had never been so happy. She wanted to share it with the world. The funeral rites were ending. Someone took Jill's arm, and she allowed herself to be led to the limousine. When she reached the car, David was standing there, a look of adoration on his face. Jill smiled at him. David took her hands in his and they exchanged a few words. A press photographer snapped a picture of them.

Jill and David decided to wait five months before they got married,, so that the public's sense of propriety would be satisfied. David spent a great part of that time out of the country, but they talked to each other every day. Four months after Toby's funeral, David telephoned Jill and said, "I had a brainstorm. Let's not wait any longer. I have to go to Europe next week for a conference. Let's sail to France on the Bretagne. The captain can marry us. We'll honeymoon in Paris and from there we'll go anywhere you like for as long as you like. What do you say?" "Oh, yes, David, yes!"

She took a loag4ast look around the house, thinking of all that had happened here. Remembering her first dinner party there and all the wonderful parties later and then Toby's sickness and her fight to bring him to health. And then... there were too many memories. She was glad to be leaving.

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David's private jet plane flew Jill to New York, where a limousine was waiting to drive her to the Regency Hotel on Park Avenue. The manager himself ushered Jill to an enormous penAouse suite. "The hotel is completely at your service, Mrs. Temple," he said. "Mr. Kenyon instructed us to see that you have everything you need." Ten minutes after Jill checked in, David telephoned-from Texas. "Comfortable?" he asked. "It's a little crowded." Jill laughed. "It has five bedrooms, David. What am I going to do with them all?" "If I were there, I'd show you," he said. "Promises, promises," she teased. "When am I going to ,see you?" "The Bretagne sails at noon tomorrow. I have some business to wind up here. I'll meet you aboard the ship. I've reserved the honeymoon suite. Happy, darling?" "I've never been happier," Jill said. And it was true. Everything that had gone before, all the pain and the agony, it had all been worth it. It seemed remote and dim, now, like a half-forgotten dream. "A car will pick you up in the morning. The driver will have your boat ticket." "I'll be ready," Jill said. Tomorrow. It could have started with the photograph of Jill and 277 David Kenyon that had been taken at Toby's funeral and sold to a newspaper chain. It could have been a careless remark dropped by an employee of the hotel where Jill was staying or by a member of the crew of the Bretagne. In any case, there was no way that the wedding plans of someone as famous as Jill Temple could have been kept secret. The first item about her impending marriage appeared in an Associated Press bulletin. After that, it was a front-page story in newspapers across the country and in Europe. The story was also carried in the Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety.

The limousine arrived at the hotel precisely on the dot of ten o'clock. A doorman and three bellboys loaded Jill's luggage into the car. The morning traffic was light and the drive to Pier 90 took less than half an hour. A senior ship's officer was waiting for Jill at the gangplank. "We're honored to have you aboard, Mrs. Temple," he said. "Everything's ready for you. If you would come this way, please." He escorted Jill to the Promenade Deck and ushered her into a large, airy suite with its own private terrace. The rooms were filled with fresh flowers. "The captain asked me to give you his compliments. He will see you at dinner this evening. He said to tell you how much he's looking forward to performing the wedding- ceremony." "Thank you," Jill said. "Do you know whether Mr. Kenyon is on board yet?" "We just received a telephone message. He's on his way from the airport. His luggage is already here. If there is anything you need, please let we know." "Thank you," Jill replied. "There's nothing." And it was true. There was not one single thing that she needed that she did not have. She was the happiest person in the world. There was a knock at the cabin `;/91' door and a steward entered, carrying more flowers. Jill looked at the card. They were from the President of the United States. Memories. She

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pushed them out of her mind and began to unpack.

He was standing at the railing on the Main Deck, studying the passengers as Aey came aboard. Everyone was in a festive mood, preparing for a holiday or joining loved ones aboard. A few of them smiled at him, but the man paid no attention to them. He was watching the gangplank.

At eleven-forty a.m., twenty minutes before sailing time, a chauffeur-driven Silver Shadow raced up to Pier 90 and stopped. David Kenyon jumped out of the car, looked at his watch and said to the chauffeur, "Perfect timing. Otto." "Thank you, sir. And may I wish you and Mrs. Kenyon a very happy honeymoon." "Thanks," David Kenyon hurried toward the gangplank, where he presented his ticket. He was escorted, aboard by the ship's officer who had taken care of Jill. "Mrs. Temple is in your cabin, Mr. Kenyon." "Thank you." David could visualize her in the bridal suite, waiting for him, and his heart quickened. As David started to move away, a voice called, "Mr. Kenyon ..." David turned. The man who had been standing near the railing walked over to him, a smile on his face. David had never seen him before. David had the millionaire's instinctive distrust of friendly strangers. Almost invariably, they wanted something. The man held out his hand, and David shook it cautiously. "Do we know each other?" David asked. "I'm an old friend of Jill's," the man said, and David relaxed. "My name is Lawrence. Clifton Lawrence." "How do you do, Mr. Lawrence." He was impatient to leave. "Jill asked me to come up and meet you," Clifton said. "She's planned a little surprise for you." David looked at him. "What kind of surprise?" "Come along, and I'll show you." David hesitated a moment. "All right. Will it take long?"

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Clifton Lawrence looked up at him and smiled. "I don't think so." They took an elevator down to C deck, moving past the throngs of embarking passengers and visitors. They walked down a corridor to a large set of double doors. Clifton opened them and ushered David in. David found himself in a large, ettpty theater. He looked around, puzzled. "In here?" "In here." Clifton smiled. He turned and looked up at the projectionist in the booth and nodded. The projectionist was greedy. Clifton had had to give him two hundred dollars before he would agree to assist him. "If they ever found out, I would lose my job," he had grumbled. "No one will ever know," Clifton had assured him. "It's just a practical joke. All you have to do is lock the doors when I come in with my friend, and start running the film. We'll be out of there in ten minutes." In the end, the projectionist had agreed. Now David was looking at Clifton, puzzled. "Movies?" David asked. "Just sit down, Mr. Kenyon." David took a seat on the aisle, his long legs stretched out. Clifton took a seat across from him. He was watching David's face as the lights went down and the bright images started to flicker on the large screen.

It felt as though someone was pounding him in the solar plexus with iron hammers. David stared up at the obscene images on the screen and his brain refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. Jill, a young Jill, the way she had looked when he had first fallen in love with her, was naked on a bed. He could see every feature clearly. He watched, mute with disbelief, as a man got astride the girl on the screen and rammed his penis into her mouth. She began sucking it lovingly, caressingly, and another girl came into the scene and spread Jill's legs apart and put her tongue deep inside her. David thought he was going to be sick. For one wild, hopeful instant, he thought that this might be trick photography, a fake, but the camera covered every movement that Jill made. Then

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the Mexican came into the scene and got on top of Jill, and a hazy red curtain descended in front of David's eyes. He was fifteen years old again, and it was his sister Beth he was watching up there, his sister sitting on top of the naked Mexican gardener in her bed, saying, Oh, God, I love you, fuan. Keep fucking me. Don't stop! and David standing in the doorway, unbelievingly, watching his beloved sister. He had been seized with a blind, overpowering rage, and had snatched lip a steel letter opener from the desk and had run over to the bed and knocked his sister aside and plunged the opener into the gardener's chest, again and again, until the walls were covered with blood, and Beth was screaming. Oh, God, no! Stop it, David! I love him. We're going to be married! There was blood everywhere. David's mother had come 'running into the room and had sent David away. But he learned later that his mother had telephoned the district attorney, a close friend of the Kenyon family. They had had a long talk in the study, and the Mexican's body had been taken to the jail. The next morning, it was announced that he had committed suicide in his cell. Three weeks later, Beth had been placed in an institution for the insane. , ' It all flooded back into David now, the unbearable guilt for what he had done, and he went berserk. He picked up the man sitting across from him and smashed his fist into his face, pounding at him, screaming meaningless, senseless words, attacking him for Betfa and for Jill, and for his own shame. Clifton Lawrence tried to defend himself, but there was no way that he could stop the blows. A fist smashed into his nose and he felt something break. A fist cannoned into his mouth and the blood started running like a river. He stood there helplessly, waiting for the next blow to strike him. But suddenly there were no more. There was no sound in the room but his tortured, stertorous breathing and the sensuous sounds coming from the screen. Clifton pulled out a handkerchief to try to stem the bleeding. He stumbled out of the theater, covering his nose and mouth with his handkerchief, and started toward JilTs cabin. As he passed the dining room, the swinging kitchen door opened for a moment, and he walked into the kitchen,

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past the bustling chefs and stewards and waiters. He found an ice-making machine and scooped up chunks of ice into a cloth and put them over his nose and mouth. He started out. In front of h"n was an enormous wedding cake with little spun-sugar figures of the bride and groom on top. Clifton reached out and twisted off the bride's head and crushed it in his fingers. Then he went to find Jill.

The ship was under way. Jill could feel the movement as the fifty-five-thousand-ton liner began to slide away from the pier. She wondered what was keeping David. As Jill was finishing her unpacking, there was a knock at the cabin door. Jill hurried over to the door and called out, "David!" She opened it, her arms outstretched. Clifton Lawrence stood there, his face battered,and bloody. Jill dropped her arms and stared at him. "What are you doing here? What--what happened to you?" "I just dropped by to say hello, Jill." She could hardly understand him. "And to give you a message from David." Jill looked at him, uncomprehendingly. "From Daddy Clifton walked into the cabin. He was making Jill nervous. "Where is David?" Clifton turned to her and said, "Remember what movies used to be like in the old days? There were the good guys in the white hats and the bad guys in the black hats and in the end you always knew the bad guys were going to get their just deserts. I grew up on those movies, Jill. I grew up believing that life was really like that, that the boys in the white hats always won." "I don't know what you're talking about." , "It's nice to know that once in a while life works out Kke those old movies." He smiled at her through battered bleeding lips and said, "David's gone. For good." She stared at him in disbelief. And at that moment, they both felt the motion of the ship come to a stop; Clifton walked out to the veranda and looked down over the side of the ship. "Come here."