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Authors: Suzanne Morris

Galveston (65 page)

BOOK: Galveston
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“Serena and I looked at each other, and I think a kaleidoscope of memories must have flashed across our minds within an instant, things that had happened over the summer, things that might have been if only we'd known. Roman was shifting from one foot to the other, trying, I think, to figure what Claire's plans were.

“‘You should have seen the gawky schoolgirl that arrived on the train the first of that summer in 1879,' she continued. ‘For three months I worked with her, spent a fortune on new clothes for her, and coaxed her into dress fittings with the finest seamstress in town. How foolish that I never realized all I was doing was priming her for an affair with my husband, and right under my nose. Oh yes, I was sick an awful lot that summer and had to stay in bed for days on end, and leave her to Charles to entertain. Well, I must say he did a commendable job of that! Even had her working in his office.

“‘And Janet. Weren't she and Ruth just too chummy? Janet never did like me, Serena, right from the start. She must have enjoyed immensely being a part of this bizarre trick the four of them played on me.'

“‘That isn't true,' Serena said now. ‘My mother would never have intentionally hurt anyone.'

“I could tell, even as she said it, though, she was connecting it with the poems Janet had written, as I was.

“‘Janet wasn't even your mother, don't forget, and anyway, a lot you know about her,' Claire said. ‘I knew her for years before you came into the world. She was cold and impossible to get close to. Thought she was very high-class, the rich girl from Virginia. Too good for me. Well, I showed her in the end.'

“Serena's voice was low as she asked, ‘What do you mean?'

“‘Her accident on the stairs, of course. It wasn't that I gave her a push, exactly. However, I did prod her in the right direction once she began backing away from me that morning, and I let her fall. It served her right and Rubin, too. He'd already lied to me about their relationship, said it was meaningless because she wouldn't share his bed.

“‘Then one day she turns up pregnant with Donnie. Well, I put an end to the both of them and was never sorry. Very appropriate, too, I might add, on his christening day—the child never made it to the church! You know, they say babies who've never been baptized can't get into heaven … Of course, not until this summer could I really face up to my part in her accident … for when I read Ruth's letter I knew she'd gotten just what she deserved, so I need feel no guilt.

“‘That isn't all, either. Just this summer, who do you suppose got rid of that detestable dog of yours?'

“‘You poisoned Porky?' I said, and lunged toward her.

“‘Who else? He was around Serena too much, got in my way of tracking her activities. If he'd been around here today I'd have had to kill him in any case, and I knew getting rid of him earlier would make things easier.

“‘Then of course I had to get Helga out of the way. She was onto me, I think. She's known me for a long time, known me too well. I could ill afford to have her around. When she comes back, all this will be over and done with, and she'll soon be getting what she deserves.'

“‘But how did you find out, or did you know, we were leaving today?' Serena asked.

“‘Ah, I think I can answer you that,' said Roman. ‘Someone with keys to this place, and with information as to the plans of the band. Have you known the Professor long, Mrs. Becker?'

“‘Oh, you are a bright boy!' said Claire. ‘We met at the beginning of summer, even before you and Serena met, at a dinner party at the Harringtons'. Of course it wasn't right away that I realized what an advantage he could be to me. He was just interesting to know.'

“‘And looked so much like my father,' said Serena thoughtfully.

“Claire drew in a breath. ‘Shut up,' she said, and her hand went to the area of her right skirt pocket then moved away. Roman must have realized then she was carrying a gun.

“He egged her on still further about the Professor. ‘So you were his friend in town for the summer … that's very interesting. But I'm sure you wouldn't kid yourself that King would co-operate just out of the goodness of his heart. What did you give him in exchange for information?'

“‘Oh, Serena, I can see what you find so attractive in this boy. Well, I don't suppose there's any harm in telling at this point. The Professor has been longing to retire for some time, as you might have known, and with what he's saved plus some I was able to add, he'll live quite comfortably in Miami, you can be sure …'

“Suddenly, it all added up for me, and I blurted out, ‘Then it was you and he, all the time, not Father Garret!'

“‘Of course not,' said Serena.

“‘Keep your mouth shut,' Claire said to her. ‘You irk me—trying to seem so high-minded all the time, when really you're just a duplicate of your real mother, that's all. Stayed up here all summer with this boy, and would have taken off with him for God only knows what kind of promises.'

“‘My mother may have made one mistake, but she wasn't what you imply any more than I am,' Serena said softly, and a cool, determined look spread across her face. ‘Perhaps I know better than you why you're doing this. You never loved Charles Becker, did you? You were after my father from the time they moved in next door. I've seen it in a thousand ways. You'd have run off with him, too, if he'd given you the chance, gone to the ends of the earth with him. But he wouldn't have you, would he? He never cared for you a bit, and you couldn't stand it. He may have suspected you were responsible for Mother's accident, too. That's what's really been eating at you all this time, hasn't it?'

“‘It may surprise you to learn there was a time when your father found me quite winning, Serena, although he just never had the gumption to do anything about it. And you're right about Charles too, except you don't know the whole story, and while it's none of your business I am sick to death of having him regarded as a martyr … a poor man unloved and driven into the arms of another woman.

“‘Did you know that I loved his brother, Damon Becker, long before anyone else, and that the only child I ever bore was his? And long after, I confessed it all to Charles, knowing he might leave me but willing to pay the consequence regardless. Did he in turn tell me of his summer with my cousin Ruth and of the conspiracy he carried on with Janet and Rubin when they found out you were on the way, at a time when I'd have been bound to forgive him, and perhaps made the first attempt at forgetting the past and making something of our lives together from there on?

“‘Indeed not. He let me live with my guilt, and would have let me believe myself the only sinner among the pious group till the day I died. If I hadn't discovered this letter from Ruth, I would have never known.'

“‘And I would be doing today the thing you've longed your whole life to do yet always were denied,' Serena answered softly.

“‘It isn't fair, why should you?' said Claire, her voice raised.

“‘Because I can't be held responsible for what was not my fault. Can't you see, you started it all by marrying Charles Becker while you loved his brother? If it hadn't been for that, none of this would have taken place. You've only yourself to blame, Claire.'

“What happened next was very quick. Claire was caught off guard by Serena's remark, for it went right to the core. She lifted her right hand as though to slap her, giving Roman the chance he'd been awaiting. He grabbed her, they both reached for her pocket at the same time, then they struggled—she was stronger than I would have believed. There was a muffled shot then, and Serena and I looked at each other, wondering for an agonizing moment who'd gotten the blow. Then Claire slumped to the floor.

“Roman's eyes traveled to the bottom of the door, and he shouted, ‘Oh, God, she's set the place afire.'

“Smoke was coming in under the door. He ran up and opened it, and a wall of smoke came billowing in. Down below, you could hear the crackling noise of burning word and see the tips of the flames. ‘We'll never make it this way,' he said. ‘We'll have to make a jump for it.'

“He took a chair from the corner and threw it through the window glass, then looked down. ‘The sand ought to be soft enough. I think we can make it without getting hurt if we can manage to miss those damn projections and flagpoles sticking out below. I'll go first, then you, Serena, then James.

“‘Well, are you coming?'

“Serena was kneeling beside Claire, tears running down her face. She looked up at Roman, then back at me, and said simply, ‘I can't do it.'

“‘What do you mean, can't? It's a safer risk than going the other way. But hurry, or none of us will make—'

“‘Roman, you and James go,' she answered softly. ‘I'll try the other way.'

“‘You little fool, come on or I'll heave you out myself.'

“‘Roman … I think I may be carrying your child.'

“He stared at her hard for a moment, then his face relaxed and he walked over and cupped his hands around her face and kissed her cheek: a strange, gentle thing to do when time was running out. She clasped his hands and he pulled back and, looking into her face for a longer moment, released his hands and went back to the window.

“When he spoke his voice was low, husky. ‘I'll get down then, go round for help. If the fire wagons are here, they'll likely be around the other side, not knowing anybody's up here.'

“Then he was gone … we heard a thump against the sand, a kind of deathly stillness. Serena looked away from the window. ‘Would you look, James, see if he made it?'

“I walked over and looked down. Roman Cruz lay in a twisted heap upon the sand. I gulped, then looked back at her. ‘No, I'm afraid not. He looks … come on, we'll try the stairs. It's our only hope,' I said, and she obeyed me like a little child, without blinking an eye.

“But as we reached the landing I thought of the letter. ‘Just a moment, I want that letter from my mother.'

“‘Our mother,' she corrected me, and I nodded. I went to Claire's body and pulled it from her pocket, trying not to think of her as dead because I would have fainted right then and there if I'd let myself … I touched only the skirt and got the letter. Then we left the tower room forever. I closed the door behind me. I think it was, even then, a need I've always had to tie things up properly, to say, figuratively at least, ‘Well, this is over. It is finished.'

“It looked much worse going down than it really was, I guess. The smoke was devastating, and the flames were eating up the walls all around like hungry cats. She'd started the fire in the main hall, I think, and done a thorough job of spreading it. I guess she had kerosene in the back of the rig.

“Serena hesitated at the landing and opened her mouth to speak. Then, apparently changing her mind, started down. When we were about halfway, she slumped to a kneel and said, ‘James, it's the heel of my shoe, caught between the stairs.'

“I knelt down to try and free it, but after getting the skirt out of the way and finding the heel I couldn't do it, nor could I see anything much besides. Those darn boots women have only just begun to stop wearing—hers were laced up almost to the knee.

“‘It's no use, James,' she said. ‘You go on out front and get help. I'll be all right for a few minutes.'

“I hesitated for a moment, afraid there wouldn't be time. But then I obeyed her, and have never stopped regretting it. I made it to a main entrance door and opened it, but as soon as the outside air hit me I passed out cold.

“Till today I'd assumed she burned to death on the stairs. The memory of her face, so trusting, has haunted a million dreams …”

Chapter 11

James Byron turned and looked at me then.

His forehead was wet, perspiration lined his upper lip. “I'm sorry,” I said, “so sorry for you …”

“But, don't you see? She couldn't have got out in time without getting burned horribly. God only knows how she managed to escape at all, for soon there were people everywhere, and she would certainly have been seen.”

“Look, I just won't accept that. Maybe it's because I'm seeing her here in this photo for the first time, and it's too much of a blow to think anything could have happened to mar that kind of vitality, that loveliness. But I'm convinced if she'd been left there long enough to be horribly burned, she would have died. And I'll believe that to the end, unless it's proved to me otherwise.”

“Yes … we always want to remember the best, don't we?” he said pensively. “When my mother and father were killed, I was angered they wouldn't let me see their bodies, because I felt if I could see them I would know for sure they were gone.

“Over the years I've come to see the wisdom in being forced to remember them as they were, before the accident. It's funny, but I have Claire to thank for that. She's the one who wouldn't let me see them … and Serena later tried to convince me she was right. Odd, isn't it?”

He walked around and sat down again at the desk. “Perhaps you're right. Maybe there was another way of escaping, but I just couldn't be sure, you see?”

“Well, there's only one way to find out, and that's to track her down. Now, let's go on from there. You never said whether the fire wagons arrived. Did they, and put the fire out?”

“Yes, but the building burned to the ground like a wadded up piece of paper. It took less than an hour from the time Claire started the fire. You see, the Seaside Pavilion was remote, much farther down from the public beaches than anything else, because the land was cheaper down there when they built it.

“And another odd thing was that window Roman jumped from. All the other windows in the building had India rubber fire escape cords. Only the tower windows were fake, so there were no fire escapes attached to them. Had it been any other window, we could all have gone safely down the cord.”

BOOK: Galveston
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