The Puzzled Heart (6 page)

“No,” Kate said. “You’re not wrong. I’m married, you see,” she began.

“Yes,” Dorothy said, “that was in
Who’s Who
too.”

“You see, my husband’s been kidnapped. I hate the word
husband
but not so much as I hate the word
wife
. Still—”

“What do you mean, kidnapped?”

“Just that: forced into a car, taken away, held with threats to kill him if I don’t within a few days write a piece, dramatic enough to be published, about why I am abandoning feminism forever. Therefore, I conclude that the kidnappers are right-wing types who loathe feminism, loathe and fear it.”

“And you think Kenneth and Ma might be involved?”

“I’ve no reason to think so, but it’s the only lead I’ve got. When I heard about you, I thought, well, it’s worth a try.”

“Is that why you borrowed the cuddly puppy?”

“No. That was for other reasons. But I have to tell you that someone may have followed me here. I didn’t see them, but then I wasn’t thinking of being followed; I should have been. I’m afraid my mental powers have not been exactly sharpened by all this.”

“And why should they? I need time to think,” Dorothy said. “I don’t know how to find out if my family’s involved, since I haven’t talked to them in several years, but I’ll think of something. Meanwhile, let’s hope they followed you. If they did, they’ll probably be in touch with me, and then we’ll know who they are. I tell you what: you better leave Banny with me; that will give you a reason to come back. Let’s say you asked me to house-train her for you.”

“Oh, no,” Kate cried, astonishing herself. “I can’t leave Banny. I need her for other reasons I can’t go into.”

“And as a talisman and comfort. Okay. But it will make our communicating harder. I tell you what. Give me a day, and bring her back here Thursday evening. I should have something to report, or maybe nothing. If there’s nothing, your coming here won’t matter. If there’s something, at least we can talk here then, and arrange somehow to meet somewhere else. Is it a date?”

“It’s a date,” Kate said, and with that she had to be content.

Four

B
Y
the time Kate took leave of Dorothy Hedge, the traffic on the Taconic and the Saw Mill Parkway had thickened. At each of the traffic lights on the Saw Mill, Kate was forced to stop, waiting impatiently for the cars ahead of her to move as the signal turned green. The powers that be had, thank whatever politician was responsible for so sensible a decision (and of course one did not know whom to thank; one seemed only to know in such matters whom to blame), removed the tollbooth on the Saw Mill Parkway, eliminating the worst of the bottlenecks. But soon afterward came the Henry Hudson Bridge, and long, long lines of those without tokens or E-ZPass waiting to pay the toll.

As Kate sat powerless in her car, she could feel her frustration rising. Banny, sensing her tenseness, awoke and licked Kate’s face. It’s the passivity of it, Kate thought, the powerlessness, the complete lack of control, the regimentation. Lines always did this to Kate, which was why she had long since got out of the habit of going to movies or patronizing the more fashionable restaurants. Enforced passivity.

But what exactly had Kate been indulging in, ever since Reed was taken,
but
passivity? She had first gone into a trance, then rushed over to Leslie’s for comfort, then turned the whole thing over to Toni and Harriet. She had allowed herself to be given a dog—however appealing—and had used the dog for what action they had left her.

Reed had been kidnapped, and it was time, it really was time, she thought as she edged the car forward, for her to begin to think for herself, perhaps to act for herself. She was so overwhelmed by this realization that she forgot to move forward, and the driver in back of her honked irritably. She felt better, stroking Banny, who went back to sleep. She would put her mind to the matter, her mind rather than her emotions or her fears. Surely, however, it would be wise to consult someone, to bounce ideas off someone. Yes, she decided, she would call Leslie and confer with her. And the hell, up to a point, with Toni and Harriet’s orders. She almost wished she had a phone in the car, an indulgence she had always considered the height of
folly, necessary only for corporate lawyers and people who lived in California and spent a third of their life on one or another freeway.

By the time Kate had made it through the tolls and on to the garage, had left the car and walked home with Banny, now attached to her leash and collar, and stopped frequently to have Banny admired, touched, and cooed over, she was altogether determined upon action. She did not yet know of what kind, but she was resolved upon abandoning her passive despair, which might be forgiven as an initial response, but which had gone on far too long.

First Kate called Leslie to tell her she was feeling better, and that things were looking up a bit. “I’ve had it with sitting around, worrying, and doing nothing,” Kate said. “But I don’t want to go off half-cocked. What do you think?”

Leslie agreed that it was about time Kate took charge of the situation, and said that she, Leslie, was damn glad to hear it. She reported that her grandsons had returned home, and that she was at Kate’s disposal anytime she was needed.

“I just wanted a friend’s assurance that I hadn’t taken leave of my senses,” Kate said.

“You’ve got it,” Leslie answered, “in spades.” Kate promised to call back soon, hung up, then immediately lifted the receiver and called Harriet and Toni.

“I know you said not to call,” Kate explained to an outraged Harriet, “but that is an order I’ve decided
not to obey. You are working for me, you and Toni, and I want to see you tonight. Here. I don’t care if someone is watching me, or if they see you visiting, or if they wonder whether you’re visiting as friends or detectives. We’ve got to talk. I’ll expect you here for a drink at six.” And Kate hung up amid howls of protest from Harriet. Six was less than an hour away, and Kate had some organized thinking to do.

When Harriet arrived, looking fit to be tied, as they used to say in Kate’s youth and probably in Harriet’s, she announced that Toni was not coming, since she didn’t approve of this meeting. Harriet, it was always possible, might still be interpreted as a friend visiting in a difficult time. Kate had assembled the single malt Scotch, ice, and glasses, and was clearly prepared for action. She poured some Scotch and began talking.

Harriet opened her mouth to protest, but only, Kate noticed, after she had got some whiskey into it. Kate held up a silencing hand. “Listen to me,” she said. “I’ve listened to you two for days, I’ve adopted a dog”—who, perhaps exhausted from her travels, was asleep in an armchair—“and now it’s my turn to talk.”

Harriet knew when argument would be futile and listening the only sensible response. She leaned back and assumed, with a sigh, a listening position.

“I’ve been thinking, starting from the beginning and analyzing the situation anew. My first observation
is that, however closely the student who wrote that antifeminist letter may be connected with the radical right, he is not the only male chauvinist student around. No doubt you remember the boys at Cornell who wrote in favor of silencing women and having a free ticket to rape—they wrote on e-mail I think, but the means of broadcasting are immaterial.” Harriet nodded that she did remember. “So,” Kate continued, “I began thinking of students who might have objected to my course, or might think this sort of caper as funny as rape, if you follow me.”

“Closely,” Harriet said, sipping.

“Here’s yet another example,” Kate said, picking up a clipping and waving it at Harriet, who watched unperturbed. “In a ‘Forum’ discussion, ‘Discouraging Hate Speech without Codes,’ in
Academe
, the magazine of the AAUP, the American Association of University Professors.” “I have heard of it,” Harriet interjected mildly; Kate ignored her. “Professor Susan Gubar reports the following: ‘What is to be done when I discover a note affixed to the office door threatening to disrupt a Women’s Studies symposium on sexual violence or, most malevolently, I find a burn mark up and down the same door? What do I do if a student protests the one lecture spent on women’s issues as “too much about feminism” by tearing the course pack up before the class? Or if one of my graduate students tells me she has received notes from a freshman who threatens to stalk her?’ I’m just
reading you this,” Kate added, “so that you’ll see where I’m coming from.”

“I’ve seen it long since,” Harriet said. “But remember, Gubar teaches in Bloomington, Indiana, where they’re a little less sophisticated.”

“Exactly. They might not be sophisticated enough to think up a kidnapping scheme, but my students are; I just wanted to establish the facts in a general way.”

“Consider them established.”

“Okay. What I’m suggesting, as you’ve no doubt already guessed, is that this may well be a prank of some student, particularly the sort who belongs to a fraternity—an assumption based on what some of my women students have told me of assaults on them in fraternities—though not all fraternities, one hopes—and I intend to follow that lead as far as I can. For instance, who rented the limo into which Reed was forced?”

“Naturally Toni thought of that. She has already discovered the car was hired under a corporate arrangement a male undergraduate at your university’s father has with a limo company.”

“Nice of you to let me know,” Kate interjected, “however ungrammatically.”

Harriet ignored this. “A man called up and ordered the car, giving the name of the company and the number of the account. Of course,” Harriet said, pausing maddeningly to refill her glass, “we interviewed
the student in question. He turns out to be a wealthy, generous, rather laid-back guy who had been heard often ordering limos through his father’s firm. But he didn’t do this; someone else did, and he is certain it isn’t one of his close friends. The company had nothing to add except that the car picked up two young men in midtown, took them up to the law school, waited for a ‘friend,’ i.e., Reed, and took them only a few blocks before it was dismissed. Toni has talked to the driver, who rather had the impression the passenger they picked up was requiring persuasion to get into the car and then to leave it, but it wasn’t anything
heavy
—his word. So you see, my dear, we have got that far. But we still think the letter-writer was probably involved.”

“Good,” Kate said. “We have a meeting of minds then, which is always so encouraging. Now, I’ve decided a few things. First, no more of this secrecy and message game. That is, I think leaving messages at the dog place is a good idea, and we might as well continue with that. But I want to meet with you openly, and to be in on all the operations. Otherwise, I’ll hire another firm.”

“Toni wouldn’t like it.”

“So much the worse for Toni. I have a job for her, by the way.”

“I don’t think she’ll like that either.”

“Well, if she doesn’t like it, I’ll have to find another operator—is that the right term? I’ve a number of
friendly students who will gladly take on the task, but there’s some danger involved, and I’d rather have Toni, who looks the part
and
can handle trouble better than students. Will you tell her, or should I?”

“Let me tell her,” Harriet said. “I might be a teeny bit more persuasive, under the circs.”

“The what?”

“That’s what the British used to call the circumstances in the good old days of Lord Peter and company. I suspect you haven’t been keeping up with your literary reading.”

“Not lately,” Kate said, and really smiled for the first time since Reed’s kidnapping.

“That’s better. What is Toni’s assignment, then, although I hardly dare ask?”

“I want her to get herself up looking both like a student and sexy. She’ll know what I mean, and if she doesn’t, tell her to rove around the campus and observe. Then I want her to visit all five fraternities. She needs a reason, subscriptions to a new magazine or flyers for a student production, something of that sort. I want her to case the joints. ‘Gee, I’ve never been in a fraternity. Would you guys show me around, like where do you sleep and all?’—well, you get the picture. I think Reed may be being kept in one of those houses. Toni wouldn’t be able to determine that on her first visit, but she’ll get some idea of the layout and the possibility of keeping a prisoner there. And all this has to be done tomorrow, need I say?”