The Berlin Connection (21 page)

It was sealed.

"Open it..."

The document of many pages showed the letterhead of a weU-known law firm in Los Angeles. Joan had given me, effective immediately, one half of all she owned. The other half was in trust for Shirley untU she became twenty-one.

The document dropped from my hand. I stared at Joan. Her eyes were still closed; she was still smiling. Her speech was blurred. "Makes ... happy?"

"Joan! You can't do that! You musn't!"

"I. . . love . .."

My hands were damp with perspiration as I reached for the document once more. The letters were dancing before my eyes.

Joan was half asleep, "Movie . . . maybe necessary . .. money . . . you need ... I need . . . only you . . ." Her head fell to one side.

I got up, turned off the radio and placed the document which had made me a millionaire in the jewelry case. I undressed Joan who was now fast asleep. Seeing the fragile, slight body I had once desired and which no longer stirred desire gave me a moment's sense of guilt. I slipped her into my pajamas, covered her, and left her in the darkened room.

In the hall I noticed how ver\^ drunk T was. The doors and shoes outside them seemed to move: the floor rose and sank. I knocked on Shirley's door. There was no answer.

"Shirley!" _

No answer. I opened the door. It was dark. I thought that perhaps Shirley had already fallen asleep.

My head hurt. Damn champagne! I felt my way from the foyer into the bedroom. Apparently the rain had stopped. A wan moon of greenish tint faintly Ut the room. The bed had not been touched. I turned to look in the bathroom. I had moved too quickly, became dizzy, and fell into a chair. That's when I saw Shirley. Her back toward me, she was leaning against the front of the balcony.

The wmd was tossing her hair; the sheer curtains on the French windows fluttered wildly. She tottered back— Forward. Back. She leaned over the side of the balcony. Farther. I could not see her head. She straightened up and fell back against the closed part of the window. Suddenly, she moved fast. Holding onto the balcony, she

swung a leg over the low balustrade. Her tight dress tore. I froze, holding my breath. Now. Now. She was going to jump.

She did not jump.

She drew her leg from the wall and staggered against the door. Her hands to her face, she swayed.

I jumped up, took a few steps to reach the French windows, and bumped into her trunk.

Clouds were covering the moon, the eerie light changed. I reached the door. Through the curtains, I could see her pale face, her large eyes gazing fixedly. She clutched the gray jewelry case to her breast. I held my breath, knowing that I had to reach her with one jump. Shirley staggered forward. She turned her head and then she saw me.

"No!"

Her scream jarred. I leaped and seized her arm. She had already lost- her balance and her weight pulled me forward. I managed to plant my foot against the wall and pulled her back. We both feU; my head hit something. Pain flashed through me. Yet, holdmg her wrist, I rolled to one side and picked myself up. I dragged her into the room where she coUapsed on the floor. I managed to close the French doors before I too sank down. We were both exhausted,' speechless. I felt my aching head. She was staring at me; slowly she recovered.

"Oh, God," said Shirley. She sat up. I put my arm around her; she trembled and stared at the French windows. "I... I was ..."

"Don't," I said. "It's aU right now."

We were both sober again. I stroked her and held her close.

"I was so drunk. If you had come a few seconds later ..."

"It's all over now," I said. I rose and pulled her up.

"I... I would be dead now ..."

"Come away from here."

"I'm all right. You must not worry. I won't ever try it again. If I had done it right away! Now . . . Now ... I can't even bear to think of it . . ." She sat on the side of the bed, green moonlight lit her auburn hair.

"I'll stay with you."

"No."

"Yes."

"You have to go back to her."

"I'm afraid to leave you."

"I won't try it again. I swear to God I won't. Peter. Peter. I love you. I swear by my love for you. It's passed

now. Truly. Receiving the ring upset me. What what

did she give you?"

"Half of all she owns."

"What?"

"She gave half to me, the other half to you."

"No!"

"I'U never touch any of it but she has already been to her lawyers and . .."

Shirley began to laugh hysterically, her body shaking between sobs and laughter.

"Stop it, Shirley, stop it!"

"All she owns . . . she gave—" She broke off. The reaction had set in. She ran to the bathroom and vomited. I followed her.

"Please ... go away ... I don't want you to see me like this . . ." But she fell to her knees; I had to support her. She was very weak; I helped her clean up and carried her to the bed. I had seen a vial of sleeping tablets in the bathroom. I gave her two. The vial I slipped into my pocket. I held her while she drank.

"Now you'll sleep."

"The child," she moaned, "it's the child too. 1 told you I'm always sick now."

"It will be over soon."

"Yes..."

''We must not drink this much again."

"No .^ . Peter, she loves us! How can we ever tell her? I can never ..."

"rUteUher."

"You can't either. She trusts us. We're all she cares for. What if she killed herself—"

"She won't."

"How can we be happy if she..."

"She won't hurt herself."

Shirley's eyes filled with tears. She repeated some of the things Joan had said. "Now I have a husband again ... a daughter ..."

"Shirley! Stop it!"

"Your father gave me this ring..."

"Where is it?"

"What? Where is what?"

"The ring! Where is the ring?"

"In the case. I held it in my hand when—" She fell silent, closed her eyes, and remained quiet.

I got to my feet.

"It's late. There can't be many people on the street now. Perhaps it's on the street. Perhaps I can still find it."

I did not find it.

I searched the street and both sidewalks. Nothing. I looked up. The hotel had many balconies. The case could have fallen on one of them. I had to speak to the desk clerk. Suppose it could not be found on one of the balconies? What would we tell Joan?

Suddenly I felt very weak. Across from the hotel along the bank of the Alster was a bench. I sank upon it. The futility of it all overwhelmed me.

Someone was coming. I heard the muffled pad, pad of rubber-soled shoes on the stone pavement. I lowered my head. I did not want to see anyone. I did not want to be seen. Someone .was standing before me. I looked up.

"Here is the case," said Natasha Petrovna.

I rose.

I took the case, opened it, saw the ring, closed it.

"This is a surprise to find you here."

"I'm taking a walk."

"This time of night?"

"I can't sleep. I live right around the comer. Fm always taking walks.".

"Every night?"

"Every night."

In the moonlight her eyes shone large and luminous behind her glasses.

"And you always walk along the river?"

"Usually." She did not take her eyes off me. "Only tonieht I walked past the hotel."

"Why?"

"You were on my mind tonight." She seemed most matter-of-fact.

I stared at her. "How long have you been walking here?"

"About an hour. Is your wife asleep, Mr. Jordan?"

"How did vou know the case belonged to me?"

"I saw it fall." She looked up to Shiriey's balcony. "I heard a scream and saw you and vour daughter when I looked up. She is your daughter, isn't she?"

"My stepdaughter. What else did you see?"

"For a moment I thought your stepdaughter was going to jump and you pulled her back just in time."

"Why should my stepdaughter want to do that?"

"Possibly the scream had confused me."

"She screamed when she dropped the jewelry case."

"That is what I thought. That is why I picked it up and waited. You were bound to come and search for it."

We looked at each other in silence.

"Thank you very much," I said finally. "Now may I see you home?"

"No, thank you. I'm going to walk a little more. Good night, Mr. Jordan."

"Good night. Doctor Petrovna."

She took two steps, then halted. "I've lied to you, Mr. Jordan. I did not only see you and your daughter on the balcony."

"What else did you see?"

"I saw your stepdaughter alone too. I was afraid to call out, to cross the street, for fear she would then jump. I waited here behind this tree."

"I must explain..."

"You don't have to explain anything."

"Yes, I do. You see, my stepdaughter—"

"Good night." Her voice for the first time sounded severe. Then she did a strange thing. She stretched out one hand; made the sign of the cross before my face, said something in Russian, wheeled and walked away.

"S'bogom."

Today I know the meaning of those words.

S'bogom.

God be with you.

I looked in on Shirley curled up and sleeping peacefully. I placed the gray case on her bedside table and went to my suite. Joan was asleep too. Very quietly, I took my black bag from the bedroom and went to the suite's second bedroom. I had a drink while I undressed, got into bed, and called the desk to wake me at six. I turned off the light, drank some more whisky, but sleep did not come easily.

"My dear Mr. Jordan, I don't like the look of you at all."

"Well, don't take it so seriously, after all you're not going to marry me."

"Don't be funny. What's the matter with you?" Schau-berg looked searchingly at me. He had just given me an injection after examining my heart. We were in my car parked behind the old bam.

"I've only had four hours sleep."

"Had much to drink?"

"Quite a bit."

Schauberg took off his stethoscope and shook his head. "Your heart never beat as fast as this before. Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, what happened? I told you in the beginning that you have to be completely frank with me. I must know what is happening to you."

"I.. . I'm afraid."

"That's the booze, dear Mr. Jordan."

201

"It's not that. It's something else!"

"What?"

I felt a dim misgiving about telling him. So I started again, "You'll have to give me something strong. I can't work like this."

"I have given you something strong. I can't start with the most effective drugs. What would we do in fourteen days?"

"It'll probably be all over by then."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of heeding my premonition, I told him of the conversation I had overheard in the studio. Finally he said, "Do you feel you played badly?"

"Now I do."

He looked at me in silence.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking of South America." He sished and prepared another injection. "Very well then, I'll give you something to free you of fear but it will make you a little dizzy. Under no circumstances can you have a drink. Do you understand me? Under no circumstances. If you should have just a little drink, you would collapse and even Ijcan't help you then. Will you be able to do it?"

"I must. I'll leave my bag with you." I felt truly heroic when I said that.

"You can buy all the whiskv vou want in the commissary," said Schauberg and gave me the shot.

"I won't."

"You know what will happen."

"Schauberg..." *

"Yes?"

"There is something else I must tell you." "Something else?" Nervouslv, he pulled at his beret. He was obviously worried. I was his last chance, just as the movie was my last chance. I realized that as I watched him try to control his twitching mouth. I had no idea then that what I had told him was to have so deep an effect.

Soon I was to find out how right I had been in hesitating to talk about the reaction of Kostasch and Seaton.

"Go on, then!" He barked impatiently. Then, with a distorted smile, "Sorry, didn't mean it like that. What else do you have to tell me?"

"There is a young girl. Could you help her?"

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen."

"How far gone, dear Mr. Jordan?"

"Two months, dear I>r. Schauberg."

"Do you know the girl well?"

"Yes."

"How well? It could not be a trap?"

"No."

"I have to be very cautious. I must see her identification. I must know who she is. Where from."

"She is my stepdaughter."

His mouth stopped twitching. He began to grin.

"Father knows best, eh? As long as it remains in the family," he said placatingly.

"You can help her?"

"I'll have to find someone to assist me."

"Another doctor?"

"Do you think I'm mad? A student! Give me until to-

morrow."

"You'll be able to find one by tomorrow?"

"Easy. Boy! Now I need one. You don't mind?" He opened my black bag. I felt sick when I smelled the whisky. "Did you give me a fright!"

"I did?"

"Now look! First you teU me you are going to be fired from your movie. You look as if your dear Httle mother had just died and then you announce another disaster." He sipped his drink. "I thought it was something serious. And then it turns out a trifle." He laughed. "You are a peculiar fellow, dear Mr. Jordan!"

The secretary's transcript: PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: Plcasc—a brief interruption—I came to see if the taping is not too strenuous for you. SIGNORE JORDAN: Not at all.

PROFESSOR PONTEVIVO: Well, I don't think so either. Your blood pressure is normal. I'll leave you to your work. Just one question: You did not know what kind of drug Dr. Schauberg gave you on that morning?

SIGNORE JORDAN: No.

PROFESSOR PONTEvrvo: Did you have a taste of salt after

the injection?

SIGNORE JORDAN: That's right,

PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: I see. And it calmed you?

SIGNORE JORDAN: I felt a little dizzy; Schauberg had said

I would, but I felt no apprehension before the camera. I

made no mistakes. I thought I acted the scenes very weU.

PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: Did you still receive much praise?

SIGNORE JORDAN: YeS.

PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: But it did not make you suspicious?

SIGNORE JORDAN: No. Kostasch and Seaton appeared to be genuinely relieved—I even found the courage to ask Kostasch to hire Shirley as an assistant cutter. He said, "I'll be happy to, my dear Peter." PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: It was a good day then. SIGNORE JORDAN: A wonderful day. I was so absorbed in my work I did not even think of whisky. PROFESSOR PONTEVIVO: At night you viewed the rushes again and listened to Kostasch's and Seaton's conversation? SIGNORE JORDAN: They agreed that the rushes were even

204 '

worse than those of the preceding days. But Seaton insisted that Kostasch keep his promise to give me another two days. He would agree to only one more day. He then said he would have to inform the Wilson Brothers and the distributor. You can imagine my despair when I left the studio. I drove to see Schauberg but controlled myself so he would not again become upset. He returned my black bag replenished, and told me I could drink again but cautioned me to go to bed early. PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: Did you drink then? siGNORE JORDAN: As soou as I got into my car. All the way back to the hotel. My wife and Shirley were waiting for me. I told them I felt tired and we had dinner in my suite.

PROFESSOR PONTEVIVO: How Were the ladies? SIGNORE JORDAN: Considerate and solicitous. They recounted their sightseeing and shopping. Joan whispered how well Shirley and she got along. They had had a busy day too and at ten we were all in bed. PROFESSOR PONTEVivo: Did you share a bedroom with your wife?

SIGNORE JORDAN: No. My wife was very considerate. It was her suggestion we have separate rooms. She said she was afraid of disturbing me.

PROFESSOR PONTEVIVO: Did you have another drink when you went to bed?

SIGNORE JORDAN: Yes, as usual. I fell asleep quickly. That night, for the first time, I had a dream which was going to recur again and again. The dream frightened me to such an extent that many times I tried desperately to stay awake. In my dream...