Do You Want to Know a Secret? (22 page)
Read Do You Want to Know a Secret? Online
Authors: Mary Jane Clark
William did not look up. He had followed the women into the room and headed straight to his father’s desk. He was busy now at the computer.
Louise smiled. From the first time her son had sat down at a computer terminal, it had been instant fascination. One of the dozens of therapists who’d been consulted over the years had suggested that William might do well with computers. That was ten years ago, before everyone got so electronics savvy. She and Bill had both been skeptical but, never wanting to feel that they had left some stone unturned in helping their son realize his potential, they had gone out and bought one. All three of them learned to use it. It became a family project.
William had taken to it immediately. He loved the electronic noise and the colors and the instant gratification. In time, he proudly mastered some of the simpler programs. None of the other kids in their neighborhood had computers yet. William had felt very special. He had found something that he could be good at. Bill and Louise considered the purchase one of the best investments they had ever made.
Jean shook her head, a smile on her face.
“It never ceases to amaze me, how well he does with that thing. It was such fun to watch him engross himself at Bill’s screen when he came here for visits.”
“My dad played games with me on the computer.” The young man with the brown eyes so like his father’s was looking at Jean.
“I know he did, William. I know how much he liked playing with you.”
“I liked it, too. Do you know how to play any games?”
Jean laughed, “No, William, I’m afraid not. I just learned what I had to learn to do my job. I haven’t really been too interested in learning anything else.”
“You should. Then you can have fun, too.”
Jean felt the sting of tears. What a dear boy. She would not let herself cry in front of him. She busied herself with taping up the last of the cartons and explaining to Louise how she had sorted out Bill’s things, plainly marking all the boxes. Bill’s early years of files alone had filled twenty-five cartons. She had shipped them to New Jersey where Louise could decide what to do with them. Thank God that they had gone to computers. Volumes could be saved on those little diskettes.
William scanned his father’s empty desk.
“Where’s the elephant?”
Jean went to the locked cabinet in the corner of the room. Opening the doors, she pulled out a heavy bronze statuette, an elephant, trunk up.
“Here you are, dear. I’ve been keeping it in a safe place for you. I knew you’d want the elephant that always sat on your father’s desk.”
Tentatively, the young man took the metal animal and rubbed it softly.
“An elephant never forgets. An elephant never forgets,” he repeated.
“Okay, William, let’s move on, honey,” directed Louise. Turning to leave, she asked Jean if she’d like to come out to a Memorial Day barbecue out in New Jersey. “I thought it would be a way to thank some of the people Bill cared about.”
Jean called the attendants to carry the few remaining boxes containing the contents of Bill’s desk out to Louise’s car. After Louise and William had left the office, the secretary sat alone in the anchorman’s tufted leather armchair. She looked at the empty bookshelves and the walls stripped of their first-edition prints and framed journalism awards. The room, once alive with Bill’s energy and vitality, was quiet and bare. Tomorrow, the painters would spackle and color. Then Pete Carlson’s books would fill the shelves, his awards would hang on the walls.
She went to the glass and looked down. Louise and William were in the Fishbowl with Range. Louise and Range looked very pleased to see one another. William had a puzzled expression on his face. Jean couldn’t believe Louise was having a party so soon after Bill’s death. Had that woman no shame? She felt that she had to go, though. What would it look like if she had said no?
She turned back to Bill’s computer. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Bill’s personal notes on the hard drive that Pete Carlson would now be using. Jean wished she could figure out Bill’s password.
Eliza shook hands
with Louise Kendall. “I’d be proud to give the speech this year, Louise. I’m flattered that you’d ask me to fill in for Bill. Thank you.” Turning to Bill’s son, she said, “Will you be at the New Visions dinner, William?”
The young man was looking down at the floor. “Yes,” he answered shyly.
“Good. I’ll look for you.”
Louise piped up, “We’ll all be sitting at the same table.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Wonderful. I’m so relieved. If you hadn’t said yes, I don’t know what I would have done. So, we’ll see you next month. I’ll call you with the details.” Almost forgetting, Louise added, “The other thing I wanted to do was to invite you out to a barbecue on Monday. I know it’s short notice, but I thought it would be good for Bill’s friends to get together. So much has happened.”
“I’d love to come. Thanks for including me.”
“Of course, bring your little girl, too. We have a pool, so don’t forget to bring your bathing suits.”
“Great, Janie will love that.”
Another voice chimed in.
“ ‘So don’t forget to bring your bathing suits. Great, Janie will love that.’ ”
Eliza looked at William uncertainly.
Louise reassured her. “Oh, don’t worry, William is a terrific mimic. He’s like a little tape recorder. He repeats conversations he’s heard just once—sometimes even weeks or months later.”
Eliza laughed. “Well, now that I know anything I say in front of William is being recorded, I’ll be very careful.”
No sooner had Louise and William left, Mack McBride appeared at Eliza’s office door, a large brown paper bag in his hand and a grin on his face.
“Don’t you look like the proverbial cat.”
“Better. We’ve got something to celebrate and I’ve brought something to celebrate with.” Mack put the bag on Eliza’s desk and rubbed his hands. “Two hot fudge sundaes, coming right up.”
Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. “Ah, finally, a man after my own heart. Hot fudge sundaes before noon.” She dug into the gooey concoction, savoring the luscious combination of frozen vanilla cream and warm, thick fudge. “And just what, may I ask, are we celebrating?”
“This.” Mack pulled a rolled-up newspaper from the bag and unfurled it. It was a copy of
The Mole
. The glaring headline read MYSTERY SUICIDE OF ANCHORMAN ROCKS NETWORK. Eliza took the scandal sheet from Mack and quickly thumbed through, searching for the story. She found pictures of Bill, Pete Carlson and herself. The story underneath recapped Bill’s suicide, Eliza’s taking the anchor seat that evening, Pete Carlson’s succession to the anchor throne. She read with interest the quote from an anonymous network source who said that Pete Carlson was under hard scrutiny and his ratings would be evaluated constantly. He would be given a limited amount of time and if he didn’t deliver the numbers he would be, in the source’s word, “toast.”
“Pete’s not going to like this.”
“Tough. He’s an ass. He deserves to be embarrassed.”
“Mack, such anger,” Eliza clucked. “What did Pete ever do to you?”
It’s not what he did to me, thought Mack. It’s what he did to you.
Mack leaned over the desk and kissed Eliza, long and hard.
“Oh, you smell so good,” he whispered.
Eliza stiffened.
Dennis reread the
letter on the heavy bond paper embossed with the letterhead
LEO KARAS, M.D
. He closed his eyes and uttered, “No, God. No.” Not now, not again. Not when I thought it was all over.
Your Honor:
Before his death, Mr. Kendall told me about your arrangement.
Future checks should be made out to me. Five thousand dollars is, however, no longer sufficient. Monthly payments of ten thousand dollars are now required.
You can be assured of my discretion in this matter.
Leo Karas
An East Eightieth Street address was listed as the place where Dennis should send his monthly payments.
God damn it! Still on the hook! Bill Kendall’s death hadn’t ended the nightmare.
He pulled a bottle of Dewar’s from the liquor cabinet, poured a generous amount and took a long swallow.
How the hell was he going to come up with $10,000 a month? Karas was a thief. This was blackmail, pure and simple.
Dennis felt a tightening in his chest. The federal judgeship! When Nate Heller came through and got future President Wingard to appoint him—there was still the confirmation process to go through. What if Karas got wind of it? Karas wasn’t going to give a rat’s ass about protecting Quinn’s dear old mother. Karas wasn’t the soft touch Bill Kendall was.
Leo Karas was going to make his life miserable. Leo Karas picking up where Bill Kendall left off.
He looked at the telephone hanging on the kitchen wall and debated. He had to get help. He would go crazy if he didn’t get some relief. He pushed the speed dial. On the third ring, a familiar voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Thank God you’re there.”
“Where else would I be?”
“I must talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t live like this. Help me.”