The Boy Next Door (31 page)

To: [email protected]

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: Max’s aunt

Vivica, it’s kind of important that you try to remember what night, exactly, you and Max were at my building. Maybe you still have your boarding pass from when you flew down to Florida, or somebody at your agency wrote it down somewhere?

Please let me know as soon as you can.

Mel

To: Mel Fuller

From: Genevieve Randolph Trent

Subject: My grandson

Dear Miss Fuller,

We have never been formally introduced, but we have met, most recently at a benefit at Lincoln Center. I believe you will remember me: I was the elderly woman sitting beside John Trent, whom you believed at the time was Max Friedlander. The two of you spoke for some time. I, of course, was not permitted to say very much, as my grandson did not wish you to discover the truth of his identity, for reasons that I believe are clear to you now.

I cannot apologize for my grandson’s behavior…that is something he must do for himself. I trust that he has done so. It is my understanding that you have chosen not to accept his apologies, and that, of course, is your prerogative.

But before you dismiss my grandson completely from your life, Miss Fuller, I would ask that you consider the following:

John loves you. I understand that after the way he’s treated you, you might find this hard to believe. But I ask that you believe it.

I would very much like an opportunity to convince you of the truth of this in person. Would it be possible, or am I asking too much, for us to meet? I would so love to have a chance to speak to you, woman to woman. Do let me know.

Genevieve Randolph Trent

To: Nadine Wilcock

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: John

Oh, my God, now he’s got his grandmother writing to me, begging me to forgive him. I’m not kidding. How pathetic. Like anything
she
says is going to make a difference. She’s related to him!

Besides, she was probably forced to write all that. They probably threatened her. They probably said write this letter or we’ll put you in a home, Grandma. I so wouldn’t put it past them. They could do it, too, and she would be helpless to stop them. Everyone knows those Trents have every single member of the judiciary system, all the way up and down the eastern seaboard, in their pockets.

I am so lucky I escaped all that. It could have ended up being just like that Sally Field movie where she has to escape with her daughter. Only instead of fleeing Iraq or wherever that movie was set, I’d be fleeing East Hampton.

Really. Think about it.

Mel

To: Mel Fuller

From: Nadine Wilcock

Subject: John

Okay, you have officially lost it now. Put her in a home? Where do you come up with this stuff?

They aren’t the Kennedys, for God’s sake. No one in that family has ever been accused of murder. Possession, maybe, but nothing violent. And the grandmother, at least, is a well-known patroness of the arts, and a huge supporter of many of the same charities you, young lady, have been known to write about admiringly.

So, where do you get this stuff? Your imagination is working overtime. You should maybe give up journalism and go into fiction writing, because that seems to be where your real talent lies.

Nad

To: Nadine Wilcock

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: John

Oh, yeah? Well, then you probably won’t believe me when I say I think I have an idea who might have conked Mrs. Friedlander on the head.

And it wasn’t a member of the Trent family.

Meet me over by the water cooler and I’ll tell you. George keeps walking by and reading over my shoulder to make sure I’m working.

And then I said, “Are you kidding? George Sanchez is the sexiest
man alive. Any man with that much hair on his back has to be a veritable repository of testosterone….”

HA, GEORGE! CAUGHT YOU!!!

Mel

To: Stacy Trent

From: Genevieve Randolph Trent

Subject: Melissa Fuller

Well, I sent it. And she hasn’t written back.

Stubborn little thing.

I think it’s time we move on to Plan B.

Mim

To: John Trent

From: Nadine Wilcock

Subject: Mel

Dear John,

When I suggested that you do something to get Mel back, I didn’t exactly mean get your grandmother to write to her. In fact, I don’t think that was such a hot idea at all. I think it had sort of the opposite effect of what you were looking for.

When I suggested that you do something to get Mel back, I was thinking of something more along the lines of, oh, I don’t know,
stringing a massive sign out the windows of the building opposite ours with the words
MARRY ME
,
MEL
on it.

Or something along those lines.

However, you chose to take a more passive approach…and often, that can work just as well. I congratulate you for trying, I really do. A lesser man might have given up by now. Mel has a stubborn streak a mile wide, and takes the saying “once burned, twice shy” to new heights.

But I think you ought to know that now Mel is convinced that your family is filled with women who will do anything you tell them to, because they are afraid that, otherwise, you will put them in a home.

Just thought you might be interested.

Nad

To: Genevieve Randolph Trent

From: John Trent

Subject: What is wrong with

you? Did you write to Mel? What did you say to her?

Whatever it was, it didn’t work. She’s madder at me than ever, according to her friend.

Look, Mim, I do not need your help, all right? Kindly stay out of my love life—or lack thereof. And that goes for Stacy, too, in case the two of you are in cahoots, which I am beginning to suspect.

I mean it, Mim.

John

To: Stacy Trent

From: Genevieve Randolph Trent

Subject: John

Oh, dear. I just got a very angry e-mail from John. It appears that he’s found out about the letter I wrote. He was quite put out about it, and warned me on no uncertain terms to stay out of his love life. He added that I should tell you the same.

I suggest we move on to Plan B at once.

Mim

To: Sebastian Leandro

From: Max Friedlander

Subject: I know there’s probably

no point in asking, but you haven’t found any work for me lately, have you?

Max

To: Max Friedlander

From: Sebastian Leandro

Subject: Look

I could live without this attitude of yours. I have presented you with plenty of assignments, none of which you have chosen to
take. I can’t help it if you won’t take less than two thousand a day, have a prejudice against unnatural fibers, or even refuse to consider shooting fashions for teens.

My job is to find you work, and I have found you work. YOU are the one who’s turning it down.

Max, you are just going to have to face the fact that you must lower your rates. Your work is good, but you’re no Annie Leibovitz. Photographers who are every bit as talented as you are are charging way less. That’s just the way it goes. Things change…either move with the times or get left behind.

When you drop out and spend untold months in Florida with last year’s It Girl, you get left behind. I hate to say I told you so, but, well, I told you so.

Sebastian

To: Sebastian Leandro

From: Max Friedlander

Subject: Yeah, well,

you know what? I don’t need you, or your cheesy Sears portrait studio assignments. I am an artist, and as such, am taking my services elsewhere. You can consider my contract with your agency terminated as of this moment.

Max Friedlander

To: Mel Fuller

From: Max Friedlander

Subject: My aunt

I know you’ve visited my aunt since she’s been in the hospital. What are the visiting hours there?

Max Friedlander

To: Nadine Wilcock

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: Max Friedlander

Nadine! Remember when I told you that I thought I knew who attacked Mrs. Friedlander? Well, I sort of started thinking it might have been Max. I mean, Vivica says he was at his aunt’s apartment one night right before they left for Key West, and that had to be close to when Mrs. Friedlander was struck, although of course I can’t get her to pin down the exact date.

And now Max wants to know the visiting hours at his aunt’s hospital. The visiting hours, Nadine. He’s never visited her before now….

And that’s because he could never figure out how he was going to finish her off before. But he knows now, because I told him! Remember? I told him about Sunny von Bülow and how Claus injected her with an insulin overdose, and how he should have done it between the toes where no one would notice a needle-mark….

Yes! I actually said that! I mean, you know how I read mysteries, and I was just talking, you know. I didn’t think he was actually going to take one of Tweedledum’s syringes and some insulin and
go visit his poor comatose aunt in her hospital room and KILL HER!!!

Nadine, what should I do??? Do you think I should call the police? I never actually believed Max would do something as heinous as try to kill his own aunt—I mean, I was going to write a story about it and give it to George, to show him I can do hard news, but I never actually thought, I mean, I didn’t really believe…

But Nadine, I do now, I really believe he’s going to try to kill her!!! What should I do???

Mel

To: Mel Fuller

From: Nadine Wilcock

Subject: Max Friedlander

Mel. Honey. Calm down.

Max Friedlander is not going to kill his aunt. All right?

You are letting the stress of your breakup with John and the whole suspension thing get the better of you. Max Friedlander is not going to inject his aunt with her cat’s insulin. Okay? People don’t do things like that. Well, they do in the movies, and in books and things, but not in real life. I think you’ve seen
Shadow of a Doubt
one too many times.

Just take a deep breath and think about it. Why would Max do something like that? I mean, really, Mel. He is a big loser, it’s true. He treated Vivica—not to mention you—very badly. But that doesn’t make him a murderer. A big stupid jerk, but not a murderer.

All right? Now if you want to take a little walk with me outside the building, get a little fresh air to clear your head, I’d be happy to
go with you. I heard there’s a sale over at Banana Republic. We could go look at some nice silk sweater sets, if you want.

But please do not call the police to report that Max Friedlander is contemplating killing his aunt. You will only be wasting their time and your own.

Nad

To: [email protected]

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: Max

Vivica, please. I am begging you. Can you remember anything, anything at all, that might help pinpoint what night it was you and Max were at my building? It could be a matter of life and death.

Mel

To: Mel Fuller

From: [email protected]

Subject: WOW

IT SURE IS IMPORTANT TO YOU TO KNOW WHAT NIGHT MAX AND I WERE AT HIS AUNT’S, HUH? DID YOUR DRY CLEANER LOSE A SWEATER OF YOURS THAT DAY OR SOMETHING? I HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS.

I REALLY WISH I COULD REMEMBER WHEN IT WAS EXACTLY, SO I COULD HELP YOU.

OH, WAIT. I KNOW THERE WAS SOME KIND OF PLAYOFF
GAME, BECAUSE ALL THE CARS THAT WENT BY WHILE I WAS WAITING IN THE CAR, THEY HAD THE GAME ON. AND WE WERE LOSING, SO EVERYBODY WAS REALLY MAD.

OH, AND THERE WAS NO DOORMAN. IT WAS WEIRD, BECAUSE MAX JUST WALKED RIGHT IN, AND NOBODY STOPPED HIM. BUT WHILE HE WAS GONE THIS CHINESE FOOD DELIVERY MAN CAME, AND HE LOOKED ALL AROUND THE LOBBY FOR THE DOORMAN, SO HE COULD CALL UP TO THE PEOPLE HE WAS DELIVERING TO AND TELL THEM HE WAS COMING.

THE REASON I NOTICED WAS BECAUSE THE CHINESE FOOD DELIVERY MAN WAS WEARING ACID-WASHED JEANS, WHICH ARE SO TOTALLY EIGHTIES, BUT I GUESS IF YOU ARE AN IMMIGRANT YOU WOULDN’T KNOW THAT. AND I WAS THINKING WE SHOULD REALLY START SOME KIND OF EDUCATION PROGRAM FOR THE IMMIGRANTS SO THEY WOULD KNOW WHAT TO WEAR, SO AS NOT TO STAND OUT SO MUCH. KNOW WHAT I MEAN? LIKE, YOU KNOW HOW CHRISTIE AND NAOMI AND CINDY STARTED THE FASHION CAFÉ? I WAS THINKING I COULD START, LIKE, A FASHION SCHOOL, FOR PEOPLE WHO COME TO NEW YORK FROM CHINA AND HAITI AND THE MIDWEST AND STUFF.

ANYWAY, FINALLY MR. ACID-WASHED JEANS FOUND HIM—THE DOORMAN, I MEAN—AND GOT BUZZED UP. THEN THE DOORMAN WENT AWAY AGAIN, AND RIGHT THEN MAX CAME DOWN, AND THE TWO OF US LEFT.

DOES THAT HELP?

VIVICA

To: Max Friedlander

From: Mel Fuller

Subject: Your aunt

Dear Mr. Friedlander,

Your aunt is in the intensive care unit, which means she can’t have visitors. Ever. In fact, they get mad if you even ask if you can visit people who are in the ICU. Because people who are in the ICU are in very, very unstable condition, and the slightest germ from the outside world might make them worse. So not only are there no visitors allowed, but the room is constantly monitored for movement with motion detectors, so even if you tried to sneak in there, you would get caught right away.

So, I wouldn’t even try to go visit your aunt. Sorry. But I bet if you sent a card, they’d show it to her when she wakes up.

Mel Fuller