Silent Truths (66 page)

‘Initially she used to say it wasn’t,’ Mitzi answered. ‘She told me it was inspired by a painting she’d seen in Italy, of a woman sitting at a piano – hence
Carlotta’s Symphony
. She felt a kind of affinity with her she said, but then certain things she said, or the way she sometimes looked, you could tell there was more to it, that it was probably coming from her own life too.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘Well, let me see … OK. You know the scene where Rodrigo’s just died and Carlotta’s holding his body in her arms?’

Laurie nodded. ‘So how does it connect with her and Colin?’ she prompted.

Mitzi drank more tea, then smiled as the relaxing tones of a blues sax began drifting from hidden speakers. ‘Well, what she said about it – this is Ava speaking now, or Beth as you call her – she said, “Carlotta had to do what she did to free Rodrigo from the men who were controlling him. I just wish I could have done the same.”’ Her eyebrows made a lazy arch. ‘Now, do you think that was weird, because I sure do.’

‘It’s certainly interesting,’ Laurie responded, frowning as she thought about it.

‘And what actually prompts her to do it,’ Mitzi continued, ‘is the fact that the aristocrats have murdered a young girl to make it look as though Rodrigo did it. Or that’s the way it’s told in the first part of the book.’

‘So did they murder her?’ Laurie asked.

Mitzi nodded. ‘You read it, so you know they did,’ she said.

‘It wasn’t that straightforward,’ Laurie responded.

‘No, I guess not,’ Mitzi conceded. ‘But then she kills herself, leaving us with both Carlotta and Rodrigo dead, and if we’re supposed to be linking it to Ava, or Beth, and Colin, they’re still very much alive.’

‘Mm,’ Laurie responded. ‘Let’s go back to the young girl.’

‘You know who she was, don’t you? I mean in real life.’

‘I presume Sophie Long.’

Mitzi smiled and shook her head. ‘That’s what I thought. But no, it was her, Ava. Beth. Carlotta.’

Laurie blinked in surprise.

Mitzi watched her for a moment. ‘Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?’ she said.

It certainly did.

‘When the Italian aristocrats murdered the young girl,’ Mitzi explained, ‘they were actually murdering a
part
of Carlotta. They killed her innocence and beauty.’

‘Which would be why,’ Laurie continued, starting to see it now, ‘she had no qualms about killing Rodrigo, because she knew that her real heart and soul were already there, waiting for him.’

‘Precisely,’ Mitzi responded. ‘But it doesn’t help with the girl, does it? Because the only real murder in the book was actually Carlotta killing Rodrigo – and we know very well that Beth hasn’t killed Colin, so there’s no symmetry there.’

‘And what the aristocrats did was destroy a human spirit,’ Laurie said, ‘which should be a crime, but isn’t.’

Mitzi nodded.

Laurie turned to gaze up at a slender, towering palm, so vivid against the pristine blue of the sky, and supple in the eddying currents of air that were swaying it. She was thinking about Colin Ashby, far away in the darkness of his prison cell, trying to deal with his guilt, or maybe the injustice of his confinement, and Beth Ashby somewhere up there in the hills, trying to heal the wounds of her body and steady the anguish of her mind. The story and its extraordinary complexity was, in some ways,
easy to understand in the context of today, yet in others was simply too allusive, metaphoric and obscure. For instance she could see that the Italian aristocrats were today’s syndicate. But Sophie Long, the sacrificial lamb, though a part of Carlotta’s psyche in the book, had been a wholly separate person in life. There was nothing allegorical or ambiguous about her murder. And what Laurie had to keep remembering was that the book had been written
before
Beth had even known of Sophie Long’s existence.

Her mind went back to the day she’d broken the news to Beth of Colin’s arrest. She could see her face now as they stood together in the kitchen, the press banging on the door, the phone ringing non-stop. She was deathly pale, and barely registering what she was saying as she asked who he’d killed. No, Laurie was certain Beth had never heard of Sophie Long until that day, so it wasn’t possible to make the connection between a dimension of Carlotta’s psyche and Sophie Long’s reality. However, there was no doubt in her mind that it was the book’s early claim, that the aristocrats had killed the girl to make it look as though Rodrigo had done it, that had forced the Gatlings to stop it from being published. In truth, they probably weren’t any closer to understanding the symbolism that came later than she was, but they obviously weren’t taking any chances. Ashby was still swearing he hadn’t done it, and once the case went to trial, if the book was out then, God only knew what the press would make of the similarities. So the question now was the same one that had been haunting them all along: what did Beth Ashby know about Sophie Long’s murder?

Looking at Mitzi Laurie said, ‘You know the book better than anyone except Beth – how close to reality do you think it is?’

Mitzi shrugged. ‘I think it comes and goes,’ she answered. ‘Sometimes it’s so obviously real it hurts, and others it’s pure fantasy and dream. I’ll tell you this though: the character that really fascinated me was Ava herself. I didn’t know Beth, but I get the sense she was like Carlotta. Her innocence, beauty, courage, all that had gone – stamped or beaten out of her by her husband and his friends, or “the aristocrats” as they’re called in the book. Then when the girl was killed, I mean Sophie Long now, I think that for Beth it was so traumatic, so shocking, to have something that was so close to her book actually happen like that, that it was like she was responsible.’

Laurie was watching her intently.

‘I’m a writer myself, so I know how freaked out you can get when you write something, and then it happens,’ Mitzi said.

Laurie took a breath and let it out slowly. ‘You presumably know that her husband was involved with, or certainly associated with, a group of very powerful men?’

‘I didn’t know it, but considering who he is, and having read about the aristocrats, it wasn’t hard to guess.’

‘One of them’s Abe Kleinstein, whose party you were at –’ She stopped as Mitzi’s hands went up.

‘Don’t tell me any more than that,’ Mitzi implored. ‘I can guess where you’re going with it, so don’t let’s put it out there, huh? I’ve got to live and work in this town and the less I know about
men like that, the more chance I’ve got of surviving. Already, I don’t know how my association with the screenplay’s going to affect me. I haven’t been offered another job yet, so I’m already nervous.’ She pronounced it ‘noyvuss’, like a New Yorker. ‘I tell you, it saddens me to say it, but she’s not good news. Word’s out, and anyone fool enough to ignore it is history.’

‘That’s terrible,’ Laurie remarked.

Mitzi’s right eyebrow went up as she waved a hand to indicate their surroundings. ‘It might look like Never-Never-Land round here,’ she said, ‘but believe me, it’s one of the cruellest places on earth.’

Laurie looked out at the glossy, shimmery beauty, with its ambient tranquillity and sybarite’s lures, and found herself thinking of an exquisite, placid landscape that existed only on a canvas, while reality seethed and raged and roiled beyond the viewer’s eye.

‘But why does she need to worry?’ Mitzi said. ‘This isn’t her home. She’s not planning to stay, even if she and Theo do get it together, because he’s not going to work here again – at least not according to the grapes on my patch of the vine, so why would they hang around?’

Laurie turned back to look at her. ‘Where would they go?’ she said.

Mitzi shrugged. ‘You’d have to ask them. In her case, hopefully to a shrink, someone who can help straighten her out.’

Laurie tried to picture the woman she’d last seen in the doorway of her publishers – another entity, or group of people who’d ultimately let her down – and wondered what she was like now, after the
surgery, the promiscuity, the beating and the unimaginable mental torment. Returning her eyes to Mitzi she said, ‘So based on the book, and how it ends, who would
you
say killed Sophie Long?’

‘Oh no,’ Mitzi responded, shaking her head and wagging a finger. ‘I’m not getting into it. I just told you already, I’ve got to work in this town, and those two Brits who are a part of all this are way too connected here for me to get into naming any names.’

Laurie smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s what I think too. It’s just a case of proving it, but we’re getting there.’

Mitzi winked and picked up her purse. ‘Hey, listen,’ she said, getting to her feet, ‘when you see Ava, send her my love, will you, and tell her I’m sorry it worked out this way? She’s a good person. I really like her and I miss having her as a friend.’

‘I’m sure she’d rather hear it from you.’

‘Yeah, well. You know how it is.’ She ran a finger under the belt of her psychedelic, sprayed-on hipsters, then, looking at Laurie’s one-piece swimsuit and modest sarong, she said, ‘You know you’re not making the best of yourself, girl. You got a great figure there. You should use it, because you can sure do a lot better than the whale that’s got himself beached over there, who can’t keep his eyes off you.’

Laughing, Laurie looked across at Stan and waved. ‘But he’s got a good heart,’ she said.

After Mitzi had gone she sat back down, plugged in her computer and set it up on a cushion. Before using the Internet connection that came right into each cabana – was there anything they hadn’t
thought of at this hotel? – she wanted to write up this past hour with Mitzi, because she was certain it had been more informative than she was currently getting her mind round. In fact, the startling synchronicity between fact and fiction was so fascinating she could hardly wait to discuss it with Elliot. However, he’d need to read the book first, and she could tell, from the distracted tone of his emails, that he was so engrossed in the syndicate’s financial convolutions that he’d want to concentrate on that during the flight out – and once here he’d probably be constantly holed up with Tom Maykin’s contact.

Her heart skipped several beats at the thought of him coming, and the nerves that followed almost made her feel sick. She knew she shouldn’t be reading too much into him saying he missed her, but it was almost impossible not to, and the scenarios she’d created since were so romantic, not to mention erotic, that she just knew she was setting herself up to be disappointed. The trouble was, there was no stopping them, and the only respite she got was when she managed to immerse herself in the story.

A frisson of excitement coursed through her then at the prospect of finally meeting and talking to Beth Ashby at noon on Thursday. Of course she could be setting herself up for disappointment there too, but somehow she just knew that this was going to be one of the most important interviews of her career.

‘Georgie? Georgie, I’m sorry if I woke you.’

Glancing at the clock as she came awake Georgie
said, ‘Beth? Are you all right? It’s ten past five in the morning here.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I just had to talk to you.’

‘What is it? Has something happened?’

‘Yes. No. I’ve just had a call from the reporter, Laurie Forbes, confirming our arrangement for tomorrow. I can’t do it, Georgie. Theo’s not here. I still don’t know where he is, and I can’t see her on my own.’

Georgie looked round as Bruce reached out to turn on the light. ‘Beth?’ he said.

She nodded.

‘You’ve got to call her, Georgie. Please tell her it can’t happen.’

‘But, Beth –’

‘No, Georgie. I don’t want her here. Tell her I’ve changed my mind. Please.
Please
, Georgie …’

‘Beth, listen. If you’ll just calm down a minute –’

‘I can’t. I don’t have any more Valium. It’s run out and I’m so afraid, Georgie …’

‘Oh Beth,’ Georgie cried, sitting up. ‘Please, just get on a plane and come home.’

‘I can’t leave Theo. We’re doing the script together …’

‘But you don’t know where he is. Have you spoken to Mitzi again?’

‘No. She never called back.’

‘Oh, Beth, you’re all on your own. Please, let me book you a flight.’

‘I can’t come back there, Georgie. I just can’t.’

‘Why? We love you, Beth. You should be with people who –’

‘Stop it! Please! I can’t bear it,’ Beth sobbed. ‘Just call Laurie Forbes and tell her not to come. I won’t
let her in. I don’t want to see her. She’s one of them and I hate them all.’

Georgie flinched as the line went dead. Then, replacing the receiver, she turned to look at Bruce. ‘Did you hear any of it?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Enough.’

‘So what shall I do?’

He glanced at the clock. ‘What time is it in LA?’ he said.

‘Quarter past nine at night.’

‘OK. Laurie’s not due to go there until noon their time tomorrow, so let’s think about this.’

‘No,’ Georgie said suddenly throwing back the covers. ‘I don’t need to think about it. I know what I want to do, what I
have
to do.’

‘Where are you going?’ Bruce demanded.

‘To get Laurie Forbes’s number.’

She was in the kitchen, waiting for Laurie to answer her mobile when Bruce came in and put a dressing gown round her. ‘Hello, Laurie!’ she cried making the connection.

‘… not able to take your call at the moment,’ Laurie’s recorded voice was saying, ‘but please leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.’

‘Laurie. It’s Georgie. Please call me the instant you get this message. It’s very important. I need to talk to you before you see Beth.
Please
call me.’

Laurie was laughing at the twinkle in Elliot’s eye as they sat facing each other in one of the intimate, candlelit niches of W Hotel’s
Nuevo Latino
restaurant, Mojo – pronounced Moe-hoe – which was set back from the long, polished granite bar, where many of the town’s élite were currently
gathered. She’d have quite liked Stan to go and join them, but she could hardly say so, and besides, she could see how very tired Elliot was after three transatlantic flights in the past five days, and two virtually sleepless nights. So actually, Stan’s hilarious accounts of his apparently disastrous seduction technique weren’t as unwelcome as her churlish mind was making out, for it was insane to expect anything to happen tonight.