The Oldest Sin (32 page)

Hugh lifted his head and stared straight ahead. “I’m sorry we failed you, Rudy. Maybe what you never understood is that we’re just men. Fallible. Imperfect.”

“No,” said Rudy, trying hard to control his own anger. “I think you guys in the ministry are the ones who forgot that.”

Hugh turned to look at him, then his eyes slid away.

“Look.” said Rudy, “I didn’t come over here to beat you up, although the church has caused me and my family a great deal of pain and I refuse to hide that any longer. My mother was prevented from seeing me most of my life. My dad felt that since she was an unbeliever, she’d be a bad influence on me. So he kept our contact to a minimum. When we finally reunited a couple of years ago, it was tough. Mom was so angry — I don’t even think she saw how angry she was. Over the years she’s pretty much rejected Christianity because of what happened to her in the church, and in a way, I can’t blame her. But for both of us, I suspect, it wasn’t all bad. Some of the best times I had were at that church summer camp. And you, Mr. Purdis, were the best part of that.”

“I was?” said Hugh, looking both stunned and confused.

Rudy nodded “You were so great with us kids. I remember a conversation we had once when we were paddling a canoe toward Bird Island. I thought, this is the kind of man I want to be when I grow up. You didn’t talk about God all the time, like my dad did. You weren’t always quoting the Bible. And you didn’t condemn us when we failed. Instead, you encouraged us. I could tell you cared deeply about your beliefs, but you were so much fun to be with. So alive and interested in what I thought about stuff. You really listened. I remember feeling jealous of your son. He had you around all the time.”

“Norm is a good man, Rudy. You mustn’t forget that.”

“Oh, I know. And I always knew he loved me. But he’s a hard man to be around. A hard man to please. I haven’t heard from him since the night I called and told him I was gay.”

Hugh was about to respond, but stopped himself.

Rudy guessed he was going to offer his condolences.

“I didn’t know,” said Hugh finally.

Rudy figured it was about as noncommittal a statement as he could devise on such short notice.

“Does your mother know?” asked Hugh.

“Mom? Sure. She’s fine with it So am I. I’m not asking permission anymore to be who I am. But you know what? I still want to be a man like you. Oh, I don’t want to be straight — I’m perfectly happy the way I am. It’s who God made me, and I don’t think it’s a mistake. I also don’t believe the way you do anymore. But I want to help people die way I saw you helping the kids at summer camp. I want to be of some use in my life. And at the end of it I want to be able to look back with the conviction that I tried hard to do what was right.”

Hugh closed his eyes and leaned back, sucking fresh air deeply into his lungs. “I wish you luck, son.”

“Thanks,” said Rudy. He waited until Hugh opened his eyes and then he stuck out his hand. “I really mean that, sir.

Thanks for being such a decent guy to a crazy kid you hardly knew.”

Hugh tightened his grip. “You’re welcome. You don’t know how much that means to me right now, Rudy.”

Their eyes locked for a brief moment and then Rudy headed quickly back to the hotel. As he slipped inside the garden door he turned to take one last look.

Hugh had risen from the bench and crouched down next to an oleander bush on the other side of the gravel path. As Rudy continued to watch, the older man’s face reddened and he broke into tears.

Sophie removed the black wig and floozy makeup in an airport rest room and then drove immediately back to the Maxfield. It was after three when she arrived at the front entrance, leaping out of her car and asking one of the bellmen to park it for her. She knew the boots and motorcycle jacket were a bit of a fashion stretch, but figured Hildegard could cope this once. She had to call Bram right away. She needed to tell him not only what had happened to Isaac, but also what she’d learned from Morton.

Rushing into the lobby, she saw several police officers standing near the front desk. Another officer had paused in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. As she hurried past the bell captain’s stand Hildegard marched grimly out of her office, blocking her forward progress.

“I’ve been calling your house for hours,” she said, her voice hushed and tense. “Did you hear what happened this morning?”

“If you mean Isaac Knox, yes.” Sophie wished the woman would get out of her way.

“It was a suicide, you know.” Hildegard cast a furtive glance at some of the hotel guests sitting around die lobby. Pursing her lips, she added, ‘Two deaths in one week. The papers are going to have a field day.” She drew Sophie aside. “The police gave me a list of people they want assembled in the Fireside Room ASAP. They’re going to question all of you after they get done looking at Mr. Knox’s room.”

“All of
us
?”

“Yes, you’re on the list. I’ve gathered everyone except the Purdis family. I haven’t been able to reach them by phone, and no one seems to know where they are. I don’t suppose you do?”

Sophie shook her head, noticing Hildegard’s eyebrow raise ever so slightly at the motorcycle jacket. “It’s a Versace original,” she said offhandedly. “You know how much he likes to design with leather.”

“Really?” Hildegard touched a worn spot. “I didn’t know you went in for such … high fashion.”

“Oh, always. I’ll let you borrow it sometime if you’re good.”

The older woman hid her distaste behind a forced smile.

“Do you think I’ve got time to make a phone call first?” asked Sophie.

“I think it might be better if you joined your friends. I don’t think they’re too happy.”

“All right.” She unzipped the jacket. “If anyone wants me, they know where I am.”

Entering the Fireside Room a few minutes later, Sophie found Bunny sitting morosely in a chair. Cindy was pacing silently in front of the cold fireplace. Neither seemed to be in a very talkative mood.

“I suppose you already heard,” said Bunny. She was seated under an ornate oil portrait of G. S. Osgood, the Maxfield’s first owner. The dark paneled walls were filled with portraits of his family.

“Yes,” said Sophie, walking up to the hospitality table l and popping a grape into her mouth. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the sight of so much fresh fruit and such a tempting array of muffins caused her stomach to growl. “I saw it on the news.”

“Will you
please
stop pacing,” said Bunny, shooting a disgruntled look at Cindy. “You’re getting on my nerves. In fact, you’ve been getting on my nerves all week. If there’s something you want to say, just say it.”

Cindy made a small grunting noise, but kept moving.

“Has anyone heard what Isaac said in his suicide note?” asked Sophie.

Before anyone could respond, Hugh and Adelle Purdis walked glumly into the room, followed by an angry and snarling Howell.

“This is preposterous,” barked Howell. “This isn’t a police state. I demand to know what’s going on.”

“You don’t know?” said Sophie, grabbing another couple of grapes. She knew eating at a time like this was gauche, but couldn’t help herself.

“All we were told was that the police wanted to talk to us,” said Hugh. “Except for a late lunch break, we’ve been in a private meeting most of the day.”

“I think someone owes us an explanation,” said Adelle, her tone distinctly icy.

“I’m going to call my lawyer,” agreed Howell, looking around for a phone.

Cindy’s clear, high voice cut through the air like a knife. “It’s Isaac Knox. He’s dead.”

No one spoke for almost a minute.

Howell was the first to recover. Walking slowly toward her, he said, “You better explain yourself, young woman. He was supposed to be here to address the ministry in less than an hour.”

“Well, he’s not coming,” said Sophie. “His body was found this morning at a park down by the Mississippi. The police think it was a suicide.”

“They know it was,” said Bunny. “The cop I talked to earlier told me all about it. Seems Isaac admitted to poisoning Lavinia.”

Adelle gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Why?” demanded Howell, his bulky frame looming over Bunny.

She gave him a disgusted look. “You can save the theatrics for the faithful. It doesn’t work on me anymore. The fact of the matter is, Isaac got a friend of ours pregnant back in college. Ginger Pomejay. Remember her?”

Howell glared. “How should I recall a name from that long ago?”

“I suppose names do get mixed up in that aging goo you cad your brain. Allow me to refresh your memory. Ginger was a senior the year it happened. It seems Lavinia found a document that proved Isaac got Ginger pregnant and then tried to cover his tracks by arranging an illegal abortion. Ginger died the next day. He thought he’d gotten away with it — that is, until Lavinia appeared a few days ago and informed him he hadn’t. I guess, in the end, Isaac couldn’t face what he’d done to either of them, so he took the same poison he used on Lavinia. It’s all in the note.”

“I think he deserves everything he got,” said Cindy, sinking into a chair.

“What is this so-called document?” demanded Howell.

“Ginger’s diary,” said Sophie. “The police have it now.”

Howell turned to face her, a flush climbing his jowly cheeks. “And … are you telling me this so-called diary actually says Isaac fornicated with a coed? That he fathered a child and then had it aborted?”

“Well, not… precisely.”

“Then what does it say!”

Gazing up at him now, Sophie was struck by how much Howell Purdis resembled a throbbing neck vein. His pomposity was only rivaled by his bad manners. “It said that Ginger was in love. And that Isaac arranged an abortion.”

“You’ve actually seen it?” said Bunny.

She nodded.

“But… where did you find it?” asked Cindy.

“It’s a long story.” She didn’t feel like getting into it now.

Howell walked off stroking his chin. “So,” he said, stopping directly in front of Hugh. “This just proves my point. Isaac was an unprincipled man. His actions were completely in character.”

“Oh, Father, leave it alone,” said Hugh, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his suit coat. “We can’t know what really happened if all we’ve got is a note.”

“But, it’s all we
need,”
said Howell, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes. “Don’t you see?”

“I see nothing but tragedy,” said Hugh sharply.

Howell ignored him. Walking over to the food table, he helped himself to a cup of coffee. As he returned his attention to the assembled group, he seemed pleased, even expansive. “Isaac’s been discredited, just as I predicted he would be. When the fellows hear this, they’ll see I was right.”

Sophie remembered that Howell always referred to the ministry as “the fellows.” And wasn’t that exactly why he was so delighted by the news of Isaac’s untimely demise? The battle Isaac was leading against the Purdis family might now be over.

Sophie couldn’t help herself. She decided to toss in a note of doubt, just to make him squirm. “Well, you know, Howell, the diary doesn’t actually say Isaac was Ginger’s lover. He might have just been assigned the dirty work — cleaning up someone else’s mess.”

Bunny shook her head. “If you ask me, that’s neither here nor there, Sophie. In my experience,
the fellows
aren’t up to much critical thought. If Isaac arranged the abortion, he’s already committed an unforgivable offense. Whether or not he fathered the child is secondary.”

“But he did father the child,” said Adelle, moving farther into the room. She’d been standing near the door, listening. Now, with these few words, she’d instantly become the center of attention. Walking slowly over to a love seat, she sat down, her hands twisting together nervously in her lap. “I’m afraid everything that’s been said about Isaac is true.” She glanced from face to face. “I should have said something a long time ago, but… I didn’t.”

“Meaning?” said Bunny, her voice a mixture of surprise and impatience.

Adelle asked Hugh to get her a glass of water. After she’d taken several swallows, she said, “I know what I did was wrong. I know I should have said something right after Ginger died, but I was frightened. Confused. And then … when Hugh and I started dating, how could I tell him? Isaac was one of his dearest friends. A man he thought of as a brother. I couldn’t tell him what kind of man Isaac really was. The scandal would have devastated him, and hurt the entire church.”

Hugh crouched down next to her, taking her hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

“No, I do,” said Adelle, wiping a hand over her eyes. “I share his guilt because I knew what was happening and I didn’t try to stop it.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Bunny, urging her on. “Just tell us what you remember.”