Sympathy for the Devil (18 page)

She walked to the door and then turned. “Well, I'd tell Chris and his slow-assed sperm to take a hike!”

The wind had picked up and was beginning to rattle the glass in the multipaned windows. The sky had turned the bruised shade of smoke, and as I fastened the doors that led out to the patio from the living room, I saw the first fat drops pelt the glass.

It was nearing six o'clock, and I told Holly she should go already. Although we were critically short on bookings,
she'd had a full day of work, what with cancelling food orders for parties we would not be catering, and paying bills with money we probably didn't have. Before Holly had a chance to give me the bottom line, I shushed her and told her I'd rather hear the bad news tomorrow. She took the hint.

I decided I'd go over to Lily's and unload my sperm theories on her tonight. Why wait? Especially if her stepsons were kindly packing up her p.j.s and escorting her out of her home this very evening. I quickly changed into warmer clothes. As I stepped outside, I yanked up the hood of my camel-colored parka and wondered if I should go back for an umbrella.

I jumped into my car. Chewed-up wiper blades clicked like a metronome without much success at wiping anything. With thirty thousand dollars stashed in my underwear drawer, you'd think I'd get around to having my car fixed.

On second thought, maybe I could find an all-night service station. With a virtuous stab at my dragon of procrastination, I jumped out of my trusty Wagoneer and went back for the cash.

I
consider myself a pretty good driver. Except when it's dark, and the rain is pouring down in sheets and I've got less than one-quarter of a functioning wiper. I was going slow, my whole body tensed forward, trying to get closer to the windshield, as if that would clear up this mess.

By the time I arrived at the house, I was exhausted. Ahead, on the last turn of Winding Oaks Drive, stood two enormous trucks, parked on the wrong side of the street, as close as they could get to the bottom of the Huntley driveway. I saw moving men pushing dollies, walking slowly as if undisturbed by the heavy rainfall. I parked, pointing the Wagoneer uphill, headlight to headlight with the bottom-most truck, saying a silent prayer to the god of parking brakes.

Mud and debris trickled down the steep road, making it impossible to avoid getting filthy, although I stepped as best I could around the worst of the puddles. As I hiked up the driveway, I noticed a number of cars had made it up the hill on this wet night and parked on the circular driveway in front of the Huntley mansion.

I thought I recognized Bru, Jr.'s Jaguar, and perhaps that BMW525 belonged to Graydon, and there were others. As I ran to the front door, damp just about everywhere my hip-length parka was not, I thought I saw a profile in one of the parked cars. Startled, I turned back to get a better look.

Sitting in the front passenger seat of a Bentley was An
gelica Sands. Now what possible need would anyone have for a fake soothsayer on this particular night?

I thought about going up to the car and getting her attention. But the wind was yanking at my jacket like a particularly annoying three-year-old, and I chose instead to leave my questions to a drier time and place.

The door of the house was opened by Rosalinda Luquin, the Huntleys' nanny.

“Oh, hi!” I said, stepping in and shaking myself like a retriever, droplets of water spraying the lovely Turkish carpet in the entry hall. What the hell? The Huntley boys could afford to get it cleaned. “How are you, Rosa?”

“Too bad,” she told me, earnestly.

“Too bad about what?”

“It is too bad tonight, Miss Madeline. Too bad in this house. I must quit my job. Only I don't want to tell Mrs. Lily. She is having problems, you understand? Many problems in her life.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Now my Babalu, he is hiding from me. Ay, such a boy!”

“I'm sure Lewis will be found soon.”

Rosalinda was dressed in a heavy coat and carried an umbrella. I also saw a suitcase tucked near the door.

“I guess you're leaving, then.”

“I see the face. The face of a man. I see this face in the bushes by the fountain. I was looking for Babalu outside. I don't want to leave without saying goodbye to my boy, but then I see this face.”

“Who was outside?”

“An old man. Skinny with long gray hair. I get scared. It is the one thing too many for me. This house it is too busy with witches.” She took her umbrella and picked up her suitcase. “Mrs. Lily stay in a hotel tonight. I go now to my sister.” I saw sadness in her determined face as she moved past me and out the door into the black rain.

Coming up the drive past Rosalinda as she left were two men from the moving company. They had dollied up a huge
stack of large unassembled cardboard boxes. As I held the door open for them, they sloshed through the entry hall and into the living room. I followed them and found more than a few Huntley family members.

The workers set about constructing the cardboard boxes. Lily asked them politely to remove their boots as they were muddying up her floor. Before she could see me, I tiptoed back to the entry and removed my wet rubber-soled shoes.

It was then that I became aware of voices coming from the study. One was the unmistakable whine of Bru, Jr.

“See, the thing is, is everything's okay now. I've got the money, so don't worry.”

“Don't worry? I don't worry when
I've
got the money, you imbecile. Get it?”

“All right! All right! Let go!”

I had to see who was threatening Bru. Just a peek. Movies can't be trusted for accuracy and I was curious to see what an “enforcer” really looked like.

He looked like Perry Hirsh.

I stepped back before either of them saw me.

“I want the money tonight, Bozo,” Hirsh was saying.

“Tonight? I can't get it tonight, Perry. I mean, I just inherited it. You know? It takes a little time for the paperwork, but I'm good for it, man. You know that.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, didn't I get your sister that audition she wanted?”

“That was my cousin, Doofuss. And you're right. I forgot to thank you. She met up with your old man and he really thought she had talent. Yeah, he wanted to put her in one of his movies. Too bad the guy winds up dead, eh? Now she won't be able to use that valuable contact, will she, shithead? You think I owe you, asshole? You think you done Perry some big favor? You've done me exactly squat!”

“Madeline? Is that you?”

I spun around to see Lily, standing in the archway of the living room.

“Hi. I hope I'm not coming at a bad time.” Although I didn't see how there could be a worse one.

“No, of course not. Would you like some hot coffee? You look drenched.” Ever the perfect hostess as her family and fortress crumble around her.

“No thanks. I just came over for a minute. I've found out a few things that may help you with the lawyers.”

“As you can see, it's probably too late for anything like that, but I appreciate the thought.”

“It's really not…” I let the sentence just hang there as Donnie walked through the living room into the entry hall and up to Lily. He stood about an inch closer to her than I would have thought platonic, but who can judge by an inch?

“Hi,” he said to me. Then to Lily, “The guys want to know if they can start packing?”

Just then, Bru, Jr. walked out of the study and screamed, “Hey, stupid! Don't ask her! I own this house now, got it? Tell them just her personal stuff. She can take her clothes and that's…”

“You're pathetic, you know that?” Donnie cut him off with a look of disgust.

“You're fired, Don! You know that? You're out of here! Get out!”

“Stop it.” Lily did not exactly raise her voice, but she was firmer than usual. “Donnie is here as a friend.”

“Hey, man, what's your problem?” Donnie was getting riled, but it was in Lily's defense. “The movers are all over the place. Lewis is missing. Lily's got her hands full.”

“I've got no problem,” Bru snarled. “Just find Lewis and get the hell out!”

To this ugly scene entered Graydon and Carmen, coming from the back hallway that leads to the kitchen.

“What's all this about Lewis?” Gray wanted to know.

“Don here is real concerned about him,” Bru said in a syrupy tone. “We all know that Dad wasn't Lewis's real father. So who was? Hey, Don! Want to fess up?”

I looked up to see Lily blush. Donnie was steaming now,
and he pulled back to take a swing. I'd been doing a bit of boxing training to work out, so I knew to brace myself in a more balanced stance, in case Donnie needed backup.

Before the punches could start, Carmen said, “Can't we just act like grownups? Don't you boys know how to behave when you win?”

It was an odd moment. Standing there in the entry were Bru, Jr., Graydon, Carmen, Lily, Donnie, and myself. Off to one side were the sounds of moving men making boxes. Off to another lurked Perry Hirsh, out of sight in the study. No one spoke.

Then, the doorbell rang. Who wasn't here? I wondered. The answer, as Lily moved to open the door, was Mark Baker, the attorney for Bruno Huntley's estate. I figured he was here to oversee the orderly change of possession of the property. It was about as orderly as a seventh-grade boys' locker room.

“Well. Look who we have here.” He smiled as he entered, clearly not an expert in the kind of tension you could cut with a Sabatier. Lawyers.

“Hello, Mark,” Lily said. “Don't worry. I was just about to leave. Only Babalu…that's my son Lewis, is missing. The nanny is looking for him now. Otherwise I would have been gone already.”

“Good thing you're not.” Mark Baker stood there, dripping onto the entry rug. I felt a little better about my own mess. “Ahem. Could we all step into the living room? There have been some developments.”

“Of course.” Lily took charge of the moment, and we all shuffled into the living room and just stood there.

“Sit down,” Baker suggested, taking time to get comfortable in the armchair he'd used on Sunday at the reading of the will.

A few of us did, but I noticed that Bru and Gray remained standing. Bru's arms were crossed over his chest. Gray had that lost look that so often accompanied him wherever he went.

“Don't tell us that anything's changed, because it
hasn't,” Bru asserted. “You lawyers agreed that the estate goes to my brother and me. That's final.”

“No, nothing has changed in that regard,” Baker agreed.

Too bad. I had hoped that Lily's doctor had convinced Mark Baker at the last minute, but nothing would change if Lily wouldn't defend her own interests.

“So we get the house and the money, right?” Bru was gloating, looking straight at Lily, rubbing it in.

“Not exactly. That's what I've come here to advise you. Lily notified my office that she would be vacating the house this evening and turning the keys over to Graydon and Bruno Huntley, Jr., and that is something I've come all the way over here in this wretched storm to prevent.”

“What!” That was Gray. He was just getting that something was wrong. His expression went from fuzzy to frantic.

“Calm down, Graydon,” his brother whined. “We'll get it as soon as the paperwork is settled. It's all just a bullshit waste of time, Mr. Lawyer.”

“Not quite.” Baker pulled out a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and then looked up at the gathered group.

“While it is true that the Huntley sons do inherit the full share of their father's estate, I am here to inform you that the net value of that estate at the time of Mr. Huntley's death was one dollar.”

Oh boy.

“That's a lie!” from Bru.

“What?” from the ever-original Graydon.

“Boys, your father's estate does not include any assets to speak of. No cash. No investments. No real property. No furnishings. And no holdings in Bruno Huntley Productions or any of the theatrical and television properties owned by that company.” He looked up, directly into Bru's eyes. “Do you understand me, young man? You are to leave your stepmother alone and vacate these premises.”

“What kind of bullshit is this? If Dad didn't own all that stuff, who did? You gonna tell us he gave it all away to some charity before he died?” Bru was screaming. For once, I guess I couldn't blame him. “This is a ripoff! This
is some attorney's way of ripping off the family!”

God, this was familiar. Don Antonio Feliz was probably spinning in his grave.

“As you've chosen to air your ugliness in public, I am certainly entitled to sue you for slander. And I would, too, if I thought you had a penny to pay in damages. As it is, just leave at once. I don't care to see your face ever again.” For an old man, he was cold as ice.

Bru, Jr. collapsed onto a sofa.

“Where did it all go?” Gray asked. Not belligerent and accusing. Just…lost.

“That is not information that I am at liberty to divulge.” Mark turned to Lily and offered in a kinder voice, “Would you like me to hire a guard for you, my dear, to help you keep trespassers off the property tonight?”

Lily was looking pretty lost herself. She shook her head no, and Mark Baker stood up to leave.

I needed a phone. As Baker had a few last words with the brothers, I walked out of the living room, across the entry, and looked tentatively into the study. No sign of Hirsh. I picked up the telephone and called Rudy. I figured it was better to be on the safe side, and Lily might not realize what she was in for. Rudy said he'd be there in an hour and I told him how grateful I was.

As I hung up the phone, a side door opened, and into the study walked Perry Hirsh.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiled at me.

We were friends now.

“Hello.”

“So we meet again. What is that called?” he asked.

Bad luck?

“Fate!” he answered his own question, like he was a brain surgeon he was so smart.

“I saw Angelica out in the car. Maybe she's cold?”

“You know, I like you better in that tight skirt you wore over to my house. Why don't you get yourself cleaned up and come on by later. We're having a party.”

“Thanks. I'm busy.”

“Some other time.” He didn't seem perturbed.

“So, what gives? What was the big pow-wow in the other room?”

He'd find out soon enough, and since we were so close, I figured I'd be the first one to tell him.

“The attorney told Bru and his brother that they inherited an estate worth exactly nothing. Somehow Bruno must have spent or lost all of his money. There's nothing left.”

“That a fact? So where's Bozo gonna come up with the twenty-eight large?” Perry was getting agitated, and I didn't want to see what he was like when he was really ticked off.

“Maybe we can talk later,” I offered, as I left the study. Walking fast out toward the living room, I thought about this latest shift in the financial picture. In a way, it was pure Bruno to pretend he was worth millions even when he was broke, putting on that outrageous Halloween party, keeping up this enormous house and grounds. Reality had been a fairly worthless concept to that man.

The cast in the large living room had shifted. There was no trace of Bru, which was just as well. The lawyer had left, and Donnie was no longer in the room. As I approached those remaining, it was Carmen who was speaking.