The Divided Child (62 page)

expensive-looking pair of
binoculars.

           
"You
do come prepared, don't you?" I said.

           
He
flashed me a brief glance before lifting the binoculars to his eyes and
surveying the area. "I find it pays to do so."

           
I
saw Demetra eyeing the loosely held gun.
 
Perhaps if I threw myself against him, she could wrestle it away without
getting one of us shot?
 
It wasn't
much of a chance, but what else did we have?
 
I readied myself to make a charge, but before I could begin,
he lowered the binoculars and moved away.

           
"I
want you to return down there and wait near the bottom of the drive.
 
When Geoffrey arrives with the boy lead
them both up here for the exchange."

           
Demetra
replied bitterly, "Do I have a choice?"

           
"No.
 
And lest you get any ideas about trying
to warn Geoffrey or ring the police, I'll be watching you the entire time.
 
If you take one false step or go within
a hundred feet of the house, I'll be forced to toss our friend here off the
edge of this very high rock and leave you to make the requisite explanations to
Geoffrey and the authorities."

           
“Enough
of your threats,” she snapped.
 
“I
understand."

           
"Then
you’d better get going."

           
She
disappeared down the path, amidst the sound of crunching dirt and cascading
pebbles, like a lifeline slipping just out of reach.

           
"Well,
what now?" I said.

           
"Now?"
 
He crossed to me and suddenly, without
warning, knocked my feet out from under me so that I fell face down into the
dirt.

           
"Now,"
he said grimly, "we wait."

Chapter Thirty-Two

           
The
next hour seemed interminable.
 
Minutes crept by with the agonizing intensity of slow motion, and
imagined scenarios of what was to come kept running through my mind like
replays of a nightmare.
 
Finally,
as Robert glanced impatiently down at his Rolex for the hundredth time, I broke
the silence of our tense vigil.

           
"Look,
I can't stand this any more!
 
My
mouth is full of dirt, my arms and legs have gone to sleep, and any moment
Geoffrey and Michael are going to come down that driveway and be lured up here
so you can kill them.
 
Why
shouldn't I just roll myself over the edge now and be done with it?"

           
He
heaved me up into a sitting position and said impatiently, "There!
 
Stop your complaining!"

           
"You
haven't answered my question.
 
You're going to kill me anyway, so presumably I have nothing to lose;
why shouldn't I just go out with a bang now?
 
At least then you can't use me as bait."

           
"You'll
behave yourself, because while you live there's still the slim chance you may
be able to save your friends."

           
He
was right, of course.
 
While there
was life, there was hope, and I couldn't give up until all hope was gone.
 
I bent down and rubbed my mouth against
the side of my pants in an attempt to wipe some of the dirt away.
 
Then I said, "It must have been
hard growing up with him right next door."

           
Robert’s
hazel eyes narrowed warily.
 
"Who?"

           
"William,
of course.
 
The golden boy who went
on to rule his own financial empire.
 
He must have been a tough act to follow."

           
For
a moment, Robert was silent.
 
Then
he said in a low, thick voice, "To the contrary.
 
He was nothing but a bourgeois upstart, a nouveau riche
jackanapes with neither breeding nor culture, only the uncanny knack of making
money grow."

           
"And
I suppose it galled you to see him grow so rich,” I said.
 
“To have him throw his patronage to you
like a bone.
 
To be at his beck and
call like any other employee."

           
His
hands -- the one still gloved, the other not -- clenched and unclenched at his
sides.
 
"I was his best
friend, and he treated me like a servant, like an errand boy subject to his
slightest whim.
 
Me!
 
The son of an earl whose family traces
its line back to the Conqueror himself!"
 
His voice shook.
 
"I didn’t envy him -- I hated him, and I dreamed of someday
stripping him of his riches.
 
Then
one day the means fell right into my lap."

           
"Elizabeth?"

           
He
nodded slowly.
 
"I was
vacationing in Monte Carlo and met her at a party.
 
At first I was simply flabbergasted to learn she was alive,
then I started thinking: if anything happened to William, Michael would inherit
most of his fortune, but if anything then happened to Michael, this woman, this
beautiful and desirable woman, would inherit all the money I wanted to be
mine.
 
And if I were her husband,
half of it
would
be mine."

           
"So
you planned to murder William even then?"

           
His
eyebrows lifted a fraction.
 
"It wasn't as definite as that.
 
I merely played with the notion that he might encounter some
unfortunate accident.
 
But then
Elizabeth responded favorably to my wooing and we married, and I began to
imagine ways of hurrying William's bad fortune along."

           
"And
Michael?"

           
"There
was little hurry where he was concerned.
 
Once he inherited from William, there was time to let nature take its
course.
 
After all, teenage boys
are notoriously accident-prone, and there was no danger of Michael drawing up a
will of his own until he turned eighteen."

           
"Then
what changed your plan?" I asked.

           
His
mouth tightened bitterly.
 
"A
damn test showing the little bastard wasn't William's son after all."

           
My
breath caught.
 
"Of
course!
 
William called your office
that afternoon wanting to change his will.
 
You claimed you never called him back, but you did, didn't
you?"

           
 
“He was enraged and impossible to reason
with.
 
He insisted I come at once
to his house to draw up a new will disinheriting Michael and Geoffrey
both."

           
"But
you couldn't let him do that, could you?” I said.
 
“If he disinherited Michael, you'd lose your chance to get
your hands on his money.
 
So you
went to his house and bashed his head in."

           
"I
didn't go there planning to kill him, but he wouldn't hear reason, so I grabbed
what was nearest to hand and did what had to be done."

           
His
matter-of-fact tone set my stomach churning.
 
"I suppose you meant for Spiro to be blamed for his
murder?"

           
He
nodded.
 
“I knew William had
summoned him to discuss funds that had been embezzled from one of the Greek
operations.
 
I thought the police
would find that an interesting motive."

           
"But
Spiro threw you a loop, didn't he?” I said.
 
“You must have been quite shaken to learn the man you'd left
dead in his study had driven off a cliff."

           
Robert
shrugged.
 
"It worked out for
the best in the end.
 
There was
still the problem of Michael to be dealt with.
 
I had to get him away from Geoffrey, and quickly, before the
fool made it known Michael was his son, not William's."

           
"Do
you mean to say you're the one who convinced Demetra to bring Michael to
Corfu?" I said.

           
"It
wasn't difficult.
 
I had only to
point out how much she would lose financially if Geoffrey wrested custody from
her and encourage her already strong belief that William would have wanted her,
not Geoffrey, to raise the boy.
 
Then I suggested it would be harder for Geoffrey to gain custody of
Michael if she and the boy left England for a while.
 
I suspected she would opt for Greece.
 
I had to arrange an accident for
Michael, and I thought this an excellent venue in which to accomplish the task
undetected."

           
He
was like a general detailing a military campaign.
 
"I suppose Helen was your source of information at the
villa?"

           
He
frowned.
 
"Yes, she was useful
for a time, but then she found out you'd seen us together at the church and
panicked.
 
I tried to buy her off
cheaply, but she was a greedy woman, and when I mistakenly indicated an
interest in an appointment card she'd found in one of Demetra's purses, she
tried to blackmail an outrageous sum of money out of me for it."

           
"So
that's what she came back to
Ithaki
for.
 
Only you never intended to pay her, did you?"

           
"Do
you take me for a fool?"

           
"You're
certainly acting like one," I replied.

           
Barely-leashed
anger roiled beneath the surface of his bland aristocratic face.
 
He said through clenched teeth,
"Would you care to explain that statement?"

           
"You've
committed these murders, taken all these risks, yet you seem to have forgotten
the most important element of your plan:
 
Elizabeth.
 
Without her,
what have you got?
 
Nothing.
 
Even if you kill Michael, she'll
inherit the money, not you.
 
And I
don’t think she plans to stick around long enough to share it with you.
 
She told me herself that as soon as
this business with Michael is over, she plans to divorce you and marry
Geoffrey."

           
For
a moment he went very still, then suddenly he began to laugh.
  
"That's really very funny,
you know."

           
"Is
it?" I said.
 
"Personally, I don't see the humor."

           
"No,
I suppose you wouldn't.
 
Well, let
me see if I can explain it to you.
 
First, I don't plan for Geoffrey to live out the day, let alone long
enough to steal my wife from me.
 
And second, Elizabeth is going to have little time to enjoy her

new-found wealth before a tragic
boating accident off the coast of France leaves me a grieving but extremely
wealthy widower."

           
"You'll
never get away with it!
 
Do you
think so many unexplained deaths are going to go unnoticed, especially when
they result in your becoming a very wealthy man?"

           
"What
unexplained deaths?” he asked with a faint smile.
 
“Spiro's already been arrested for William's murder.
 
It can only be a matter of time before
he's charged with Helen's as well.
 
And Demetra, holding you and Geoffrey responsible for her brother's
misfortune, will be blamed for killing you both, as well as the stepson she's
already tried to kill several times before."

           
"The
police will never buy it!
  
Demetra will tell them what really happened!"

           
"No,
sadly, she'll be overcome by guilt and will drown herself on that beach
below."

           
"What
about Elizabeth?" I said desperately.
 
"I told her my suspicions of you!
 
She's sure to suspect the truth!"

           
A
muscle twitched along his temple.
 
"Elizabeth will believe what I wish her to believe."

           
"Then
Mrs. Baxter --"

           
He
shook his head.
 
"Mrs. Baxter
was a danger only as long as she was in contact with you.
 
Once I dispose of you, she ceases to be
a threat."

           
I
stared at him in mute despair.
 
I
was out of arguments and out of reasons to think he wasn't going to get away
with it.
 
All of it.
 
There was nothing left to do but wait.