Cover-Up Story (16 page)

‘My cup runneth over.'

‘An extra month – can that kill you?' He was being awfully good about it, he hadn't mentioned how far the extra money would go towards turning Perkins & Tate into a profit-making organization. He didn't hit below the belt. I wasn't so delicate.

‘Perhaps not – but it might kill someone else.'

‘Zeke? He's over that foolishness now. He isn't scaring himself into seizures any more. An extra month won't bother him.'

‘What about Lou-Ann?'

‘Yeah, Lou-Ann.' Sam's face shadowed. ‘She hasn't said anything, but I know she wants to get out of here. Well, you can't blame her. It's a nice town, but it hasn't exactly provided happy memories for her. On the other hand, it will be rough for her wherever she is. It takes time to get over something like that. She might as well be here as anywhere else. Besides –' He broke off sharply.

‘Besides – what?' But a glimmering was beginning to get through to me. ‘Haven't they quashed that indictment yet?'

‘It's taking a little longer than they expected,' Sam said unhappily. ‘But don't worry, they'll do it. There's too much at stake to let one stubborn old man and his jail-bait kid gum up the works. They're going to offer him more money. You'll see, he'll accept the offer.'

I turned away. There might be more at stake than Sam realized. Should I say anything? Would he believe me, or would he continue to play the Company Man and perhaps threaten me with a slander suit? Or at least recommend removing – if not the account – then Perkins, from Perkins & Tate?

Crossing to the window, I opened it and leaned out. The weather was still holding and a crisp breeze was blowing up from the Thames. More leaves fell from the trees and blew through Embankment Gardens with each gust. Leaning just a little farther out, I caught a glimpse of Penny crossing Villiers Street, coming to work. Speaking of things at stake, that decided me.

I ducked back into the room and closed the window. ‘Sam,' I said, firmly, ‘I think you ought to know –'

There was a tap at the door; it opened, and I lost Sam's attention. Lou-Ann and Crystal came into the room. ‘I reckoned we'd find you here, Sam,' Lou-Ann said. ‘We wanta talk to you.'

‘Come in. Sit down.' Sam leaped up, pushing his chair forward for Lou-Ann.

But it was Crystal who looked as though she needed to sit down. Although she had been carefully made up, she was deathly pale, and the foundation and powder didn't quite conceal the ugly bruises on her face. With a wan smile, she slumped into the chair I offered.

‘Sam, you jest gotta do something for Crystal,' Lou-Ann said. ‘She can't keep goin' on this way. You gotta make Bart see reason. I've tried – and I can't do nothin' with him, so it's up to you. You'll have to threaten him – or something.'

‘Threaten him – with what?' Over Lou-Ann's head, Sam met my eyes and shook his head. Fine. So she didn't even know about the incident they were trying to quash back in the States. They had kept it from her.

‘I don't know,' Lou-Ann said wildly. ‘Threaten you'll tear up his contract, or something. But you gotta make him leave Crystal alone. It ain't even human – the way he carries on. Why shouldn't she live with her lawful-wedded husband?'

‘Sam can't do nothin',' Crystal said softly. ‘Bart's always been like that. I guess maybe Eugene is right. Guess maybe him and me oughta jest slide away some place where Bart can't never find us, and live in peace.'

‘Now, wait a minute,' Sam said. ‘You don't want to do a thing like that. Think what it would do to the act. I'll talk to Bart. Reason with him –'

‘No such thing as reasoning with Bart,' Crystal said. ‘Never has been – not even when he was jest a little kid. There's something in him so pig-headed mule-stubborn, he don't even know other people are alive –'less he happens to need them. I guess maybe he's kind of crazy.'

‘Don't say that! ' Sam was anguished, perhaps because the same thought had occurred to him at times. ‘Bart's just very high-strung, that's all. He's a very talented boy and he lives on his nerves, like a lot of talented people.'

‘That's true,' Lou-Ann said softly. ‘Bart is very sensitive. So many people don't realize that.'

The difference was that Lou-Ann believed it. Sam was just trying to protect the Agency investment. He couldn't fool Crystal, though. She had known Bart longer than either of them. She looked as unconvinced as I felt.

‘Look at it this way,' Sam pleaded. ‘It's only for a few more weeks. You've gone this long. Why call a halt now?'

‘He never hit me before,' Crystal said. ‘He's getting worse.'

The door opened and Penny came in, hesitating as she saw the office full of people. Sam glanced at her wildly, as though trying to assess her value as a possible ally, then dragged her into the argument.

‘Think of the fans,' he said. ‘Think of all those trusting kids who'll be disappointed if Bart gets so upset he cancels the engagement. Look, here's the President of the Fan Club. Just ask her how she'd feel if he gave it all up.'

‘I'd be delighted,' Penny said. She noticed that Lou-Ann was there, and blushed, but didn't retreat. ‘I'm sorry,' she said, ‘but I think he's perfectly frightful.'

‘Okay,' Sam said, ‘okay.' He pulled a fiver out of his pocket and threw it at her. ‘Run and get us four coffees, will you? Get one for yourself, if you want. Just hurry!' Penny caught the money and vanished.

‘I don't want any coffee.' Crystal tried to stand up, but Sam pushed her back into her chair.

‘Calm down,' he said, although she was a lot calmer than he was. ‘Think of what you're doing. It's not just Bart – it's all of you. You're on the threshold of the Big Time now. On the way up – real UP. What you've had so far is just a drop in the bucket, compared with what you could have a year from now. Just as long as you don't make waves.'

‘That's all nothing to do with me,' Crystal said. ‘I'm not in the act. It can go on without me bein' around and wouldn't make no never-mind to nobody.'

Except to Bart. Who had already hinted at plans to bring Crystal into the act. And that was a disturbing thought I didn't care to examine. There wasn't really room for more than one female in the Troupe.

‘But you said No'ccount would go with you. That would cut into the Troupe. I mean, he's a nice character-piece, sort of an anchor to hold down the whole thing.' With a nervous look at me, Sam tried to telegraph his meaning to Crystal. ‘It would upset Bart if he left, too.'

‘I expect it would,' Crystal smiled.

‘Of course,' Sam covered quickly, ‘I suppose it wouldn't make all that much difference. Bart's the one the customers pay to see. He's got the voice, the presence, the talent –'

‘Not all that much talent.' I could keep quiet no longer. ‘He didn't write those songs.'

‘How do you know?' Sam choked, taken off guard.

‘ “Tribute to Maw”,' I said. ‘I heard Une –' I caught myself. Even more than Uncle No'ccount, his wife must be yearning for his proper identity. The identity Bart, for reasons of his own, had stripped from him. I tried again.

‘I heard Eugene working on it in its early stages. It's a very haunting tune. Naturally, I recognized it when it went into the act.'

‘Then you
do
know,' Crystal said gratefully.

‘He wrote “Homesteader”, too, didn't he?'

‘Of course,' she said. ‘You don't think Bart did, do you?'

‘Wait a minute, wait a minute,' Sam said. ‘Now, it's lucky we're all family here, so to speak. But remember, the arrangement was that Bart was going to take the credit for those songs.' He smiled cravenly at me.

‘You understand these things,' he said, ‘It's just the publicity platform. It makes a stronger story if Bart writes his own material. It gives him more depth. It's in the Tradition.'

I nodded, just to tell him that I was registering what he said, not that I approved of it. There was a lot I could have said, but I found myself inhibited by Lou-Ann's presence. She had been quiet during the discussion, so I gathered that this was one of the few secrets she
was
privy to.

‘You needn't worry,' Sam said. ‘It's all open and above-board in the contracts. Uncle No'ccount is collecting the royalties on any songs he writes. So, what does it matter where the credit goes? He's going to be rolling in the green stuff in a few more years – if he keeps turning them out. What more could he want?'

‘Nothing,' I said. ‘Except, perhaps, the chance to put his teeth in, once in a while.'

Lou-Ann turned away. I wondered how much she admitted to herself of insight into Bart. How much could she admit and still remain sane? But her presence certainly put a damper on the discussion.

‘That's just part of the routine,' Sam argued. ‘It's establishing a character. He stands out in a crowd because of that. There's nothing wrong with –'

‘It turns him into a buffoon,' I said. ‘It hides the fact that
he's
the one with the talent. All the Client has is a set of sexy pipes. Perhaps, if the public caught on to that, they might start paying attention to Eugene, who has a lot more to recommend him.'

‘Oh yes,' Crystal breathed. ‘You
do
understand. You
do
see! There's jest so much music in him that everything sings when he's around. There's a kinda magic in the whole world when he's standing beside you, looking at it with you. Everything is brighter, and cleaner, and softer, and
better.
'

Lou-Ann sobbed suddenly. Just once.

Sam was beside her instantly. ‘Come on,' he said, ‘let's get out of here.' He pulled her gently to her feet and led her from the room, while she was still scrabbling frantically in her handbag for a Kleenex.

‘It's too bad.' Crystal looked after them, shaking her head. ‘Bart is jest plain no-good, and that's the truth of it. I could of told them that. Her Maw should never have let it happen, instead of encouraging him all the time. It was all right for
her,
but he's been taking it out on Lou-Ann ever since.'

Perhaps, finally, he had taken it out on Maw herself. But it was not a thought to voice to his sister, even though she didn't seem to be a member of the Fan Club, either.

‘Lou-Ann, she won't ever learn now,' Crystal went on, analysing her sister-in-law. ‘Maybe she don't even want to. Bart, he was jest about the biggest, most exciting thing that ever happened to her. And,' she added thoughtfully, he was 'bout the only thing she ever truly wanted that her Maw let her have.'

I began to feel that the right person had been killed, but for the wrong reason. Any reason Bart could have had
must
have been wrong. He wasn't doing anyone any favours – least of all his wife.

I had forgotten the coffee. Penny opened the door and staggered through, precariously balancing five cups of coffee in a cardboard box that was beginning to buckle in the middle. I hurried forward and rescued the makeshift tray.

‘Where is everybody?' she asked.

‘Now, Bart.' Penny's question had obviously raised an echo of Bart's cry in Crystal's mind, too. ‘You take Bart,' she continued, ignoring the fact that anyone who had known him for half an hour wouldn't have had him as a gift.

‘Bart, he thinks he's king of the castle – everybody's castle. He ain't learned yet that there's things he can't do. Why, do you know?' – an amused smile curved her lips – ‘He still thinks he can split up Eugene and me.'

‘Amazing!' I said. ‘Here, have a cup of coffee. Drink up. We have two apiece.'

‘Yessir.' She accepted the coffee and sipped at it thoughtfully. ‘He was glad enough to have me marry Eugene when he was jes' starting out and needed some good material. There are plenty of singers around, you know. But if they ain't got the real good songs to sing, they're nothin'. And that's what Bart was – nothing. Until Eugene started writing songs for him.'

Penny was quietly drinking her coffee in the corner by the filing cabinet. I knew that she was also drinking in every word. It was all right – I trusted her to be discreet, but I couldn't help thinking how upset Sam would be, if he knew. He had sent her out for coffee precisely to keep her from learning these little trade secrets.

‘Now Bart's ridin' high – and he thinks I oughta do better for myself.' She glared at me suddenly, as though I might challenge the statement. ‘There ain't no better!'

‘I'm sure of it,' I said. Perhaps I was the only one to hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. Even though I raised my voice slightly, I meant what I said. ‘His songs are brilliant. The more I learn about your Eugene, the more I admire him. I only wish I'd had the chance to get to know him properly.'

‘Thank you.' He was in the doorway, then. ‘I take that mighty kindly.'

‘Eugene! ' Crystal dashed forward and hurled herself into his arms.

‘All right, honey.' He hugged her, then held her away from him, frowning, as he studied her bruises. ‘We're finished,' he said. ‘We get us out from under, as of right now. I found us a little flat, like they say here, and we move in today. It don't matter what Bart says – I'm not having you near him any more. I shoulda done this long ago.'

Crystal didn't hesitate. ‘All right, Eugene,' she said.

‘You tell Bart –' Eugene Hatfield glared at me fiercely over his wife's shoulder – ‘this is the end of the road. If he still wants me in the act – okay. If he doesn't – that's okay, too. But Crystal and I are moving out. No more separate hotels, no more scenes, no more being split up. You tell him that.'