Quest for Alexis (18 page)

“I hardly think that is likely,
m’selle.”

For a moment I hesitated, wondering whether to make a scene. At a top-drawer place like this they
would hate that. But I didn’t want to draw attention to
myself. Dejectedly, I turned away and started back
across the spacious lobby. Maybe I could find a rear
way to sneak in, bribe a porter, something like that.

There was a sudden flurry of commotion by the front
entrance. The doorman, galvanized into action, leaped
forward and held open the wide glass door, a service
he’d not bestirred himself to perform for me.

Sweeping through, tall and poised, hips swaying,
fully conscious of the heads that jerked to stare, came
Belle Forsyth. She made a dramatic figure, supremely
confident, her copper-red hair cascading to the shoul
ders of the black fur coat she wore.

She stopped dead when she saw me. We stood fac
ing each other ten yards apart.

“You,” she gasped angrily. “What do you think
you’re doing here?”

I ran up to her in a rush. “Belle, I want to see
Alexis. I’ve got to talk to him.”

“It would be pointless,” she said icily.

Two men had edged toward us, and made no secret
of the fact that they were trying to listen. I guessed
they were reporters.

“I
must
see him, Belle,” I whispered. “It’s impor
tant.”

She made no effort to keep her voice down. “You
are only making a fool of yourself, Gail. It ought to be
obvious by now that your uncle has no wish to see you. Yet you persist in following us around.”

“Please, Belle, can’t we go somewhere private?” I
said, glancing uneasily at the reporters. “Surely you understand ... there are things I have a right to know.”

“Right? What do you mean by
right?
You have no
rights where Alexis is concerned, none at all. He is
not even a relation, except by marriage. When your
parents died, he very generously took you in, but
you’re old enough to fend for yourself now. Aren’t you
ever
going to be satisfied?”

Dismayed, I faltered. “It... it’s not for myself I’m
asking, Belle. It’s Madeleine.”

“Madeleine,” she spat contemptuously. “That hyster
ical madwoman. Alexis has had enough of her. She’s
been like a millstone around his neck for years, and
he’s sick to death of it. Can’t you understand, Gail, he’s
a flesh-and-blood male—and now at last he’s got a
chance to
live.
To enjoy the good things of life. If you’re so concerned about your aunt, then it’s up to
you to look after her. I doubt if the Warrenders will
turn her out of Deer’s Leap. But if they do, Madeleine
will just have to go into a mental home. That’s where
she really belongs.”

I was speechless at her vicious outburst. As I groped
for words, I saw the desk clerk hurrying over to inter
vene.

“I am so sorry,
madame,
if this ... this young wom
an is annoying you. I have already informed her that
Dr. Karel will see no one.”

Belle shrugged carelessly. “She doesn’t bother me.
She can beg until she’s blue in the face, but it won’t
make the slightest difference.”

She didn’t even glance at me again but turned her
back and walked off with supreme contempt. She was
heading for the elevator, but when I tried to follow her,
the clerk blocked my path.

“You heard what
madame
said. I must ask you once again to leave the hotel.”

In despair, I saw Belle step into one of the elevators and
the doors closed upon her. Some instinct told me to
watch the indicator. The needle swept right to the top,
the ninth floor.

The two reporters huddled around me.

“Miss Fleming, why do you think your uncle refuses
to see you?”

“How do you account for Dr. Karel’s sudden change
of viewpoint after all the years he’s been... ?”

I shook my head at them, too choked with misery
to speak. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the desk clerk signal to a porter, and I knew I was going to be
thrown out. Glancing around desperately, I spotted the
illuminated sign of the ladies’ room. I turned and fled
there.

Once inside the door, I stood breathlessly, unde
cided what to do. I knew that in a few moments they would send someone in to fetch me out. Two elegant,
silver-haired women doing their faces before the pink-
tinted mirror turned to stare at me.

I looked around wildly and noticed a small door
tucked away in a corner. I guessed it must be for staff
use. It represented my only hope, and I prayed it was
unlocked.

It led me through to a narrow corridor, lit by un
shaded bulbs. A few yards to the right was a service
elevator with iron lattice gates and, alongside, stone
stairs leading up and down. I heard a door slam somewhere behind me, then footsteps. I dived for the staircase and started to run up.

By the time I reached the third landing I was pant
ing, and I paused to get my breath back. From below I
heard the elevator gates slam, then a series of clicks
and the whine of the cage ascending.

Was someone coming after me? I ran up a few more
steps and pressed against the wall, so as not to be
seen. The elevator stopped at the third floor and a girl
got out, a chambermaid, carrying an armful of linen.
As she passed the foot of the staircase she noticed me. Hastily, I pretended to be walking down. She looked at
me a little strangely, I thought, but gave me a smiling
nod and went on, disappearing through a swinging
door.

The elevator stood invitingly open. I stepped inside,
dragged the gates across and pressed the button with
the figure 9.

On the top floor was a swinging door like the one
the maid had come through on the third floor. I carefully pushed it open a couple of inches and listened.
There seemed to be no one around, so I slipped
through.

I found myself in a circular hallway. Aside from the
service door I had used and the guests’ elevator, there were only two other doors. This was the top floor, so
presumably these were penthouse suites. At least, hav
ing only two possibilities made my task easier.

My encounter in the lobby with Belle had only
strengthened my resolve to see my uncle and plead
with him to return home—for Madeleine’s sake, for his own sake, for the sake of all those people who believed
in him. And I had to warn Alexis about Brett and the
Communists, make him understand that what he was
doing could only bring satisfaction to his enemies.

But now there was an added motive driving me on—
anger. Blind, stubborn anger. I refused to be brushed
off by Belle, on his behalf, so casually and so con
temptuously. Somehow, I was going to confront Alexis
himself. I was determined to let him know my mind,
even if, at the end, it achieved nothing.

I tossed a coin mentally and went to the door on the left. I knocked.

Would Alexis answer it himself? I prayed it wouldn’t
be Belle. But if so, I was ready to push my way in past
her.

There was no answer, so I knocked again, loudly.
The door was suddenly flung open, and I knew at
once that I’d chosen wrongly. A short, pink-faced man
stood there rocking unsteadily, a large glass in his
hand. He leered at me.

“Excusez-moi
...”
I said. My limited French de
serted me. “I was looking for Dr. Karel.”

“Ach so!”
he grunted, obviously not understanding.
Breathing brandy fumes, he grabbed at my hand, try
ing to drag me inside.

Hastily, I pulled away from him. He glared at me
with bloodshot eyes, muttered something, and slammed
the door.

Scared that the hotel would be sending someone
after me at any moment, I ran to the door of the other
suite and rapped loudly.

A man’s voice responded,
“Qui est là?”

I had a sudden fear that if I said my name Alexis
might refuse to let me in.

I called,
“C’est la femme de chambre, monsieur”
and hoped that the thickness of the door would mask
my poor accent.

“Entrez.”

My heart racing painfully, I opened the door and
stepped inside.

It was a large, luxuriously appointed suite, softly lit
by wall sconces and silk-shaded table lamps. Only one
person was in there—Alexis. He lay comfortably
stretched out on a long, gold brocade sofa, reading a
newspaper. He had his back to me.

I closed the door quietly and stood wailing for him to turn around and see me. Seconds went past, each seeming like a minute. My palms were moist, and I could feel a pulse throbbing at my temple. I watched
as, slowly, Alexis reached out to a glass ashtray on
a low ebony-topped table and flicked ash from the
cigar he was smoking.

At last, aware of my presence, my silence, Alexis
closed his newspaper and swung around to look at me.
But I saw no sign of pleased recognition in his eyes.
Only a glint of anger.

“Qu’est-ce que vous voulez?”
he asked irritably.

My throat felt so tight and constricted that I could
only manage a whisper as I took a step toward him.

“Alexis.”

In a quick, startled movement he sprang to his feet
and faced me. And in that same instant I knew the
truth. It swept over me, engulfed me, drowned me.

This man was not Alexis Karel. He was not my
uncle, but an impostor.

Standing by the lakeside, my fingers gripping the cold
stone of the balustrade, I stared down into the dark
water. A million reflected lights danced upon the surface, distorted to shivering needles by the blur of my
tears.

Only minutes before I had been escorted down from the penthouse floor of the Cosmos and requested not to return. Warned not to set foot in the hotel again.

While, shocked and horrified, I stood staring at the
man who looked so much like Alexis, he had fled
without a word, retreating to an inner room. A moment
later Belle Forsyth had emerged and started to hustle
me outside.

“Why do you persist like this, Gail?” she demanded angrily. “I told you that your uncle will not see you.”

I shook myself free of her.

“That man is not my uncle,” I shouted. “He isn’t
Alexis.”

I saw the swift startled narrowing of her eyes. Then,
recovering quickly, Belle caught hold of me in a vi
cious grip, forcing me toward the door.

“What stupid nonsense you talk. I can’t imagine
what you hope to gain by it.”

I grabbed at the door frame and clung to it franti
cally.

“What are you up to, Belle? What’s it all about?
What has happened to Alexis? Where is he?”

“Alexis is through there in the bedroom, of course. And he won’t be coming out until you have gone. Just
get this into your head once and for all—he doesn’t
want to see you. He doesn’t want anything more to do
with you, ever. Just stay out of his life, that’s all he
asks.”

Across the circular hall, the elevator had stopped.
Two men stepped out. One was some sort of manager,
sleek in a black jacket and pinstriped trousers, the oth
er wore a porter’s uniform.

Belle called, “Thank goodness you’ve come. I think she must be out of her mind.”

As they advanced on me, I said desperately, “You
don’t understand—the man in there isn’t Dr. Karel at
all. He’s an impostor.”

They ignored my protests. I might not have spoken.
The porter took over from Belle, holding my arm in a powerful, no-nonsense grip. The other man addressed
me sternly, with only the thinnest veil of courtesy.

“I trust you will not make any further disturbance,
m’selle.
If you will please just leave the hotel quietly,
we will say no more of this incident.”