The Witch and the Borscht Pearl (35 page)

We sat dejectedly marooned in the swamp of idling engines until finally the Mercedes’, BMW’s, and miscellaneous vans and cars shifted enough to let us reach the hustling bellboys. Moving rather stiffly we climbed out of the car.

Charlie handed his keys to the bell captain. As we passed through the heavy glass doors, Zoë appeared, looking distracted and walking rapidly across the broad expanse of lobby from our right. She spotted us and stopped short.

From across the room she extended an arm, pointed at Mrs. Risk, and shouted, “You can’t be here!”

She broke into a trot—crossing our path where we stood glued, appalled, to the plush pale mauve carpet. Pushing roughly to the head of the long waiting line at the check-in desk, she demanded to see the manager. Her fist pounded the polished mahogany. The clerk, a young uniformed girl, fled through a door behind the desk.

Zoë turned to us. “I’ll have you thrown out!” The other guests stared at us, wondering what dire crime we’d committed.

“You’ll be gone before Pearl finds out you came!”

She pounded again on the desk.

M
RS. RISK CHARGED ACROSS
the lobby, her black garb and forbidding expression scattering those in her path. Charlie and I sprinted to keep up, intimidating nobody, frankly. At the desk she seized Zoë’s fist to stop the pounding, then stooped and whispered rapidly into her ear.

Just then a slender man in his thirties, obviously the manager, emerged from the inner door. The young female clerk skittered out from behind him, pointing out the combatants. She eyed us apprehensively. At sight of the whispered discussion, he waited without saying a word. Like any good hotelier, he had no desire to intrude if a private dispute could be solved privately. Suddenly the two heads parted. Zoë peered up at Mrs. Risk, scowled, and nodded shortly.

“Never mind,” she snapped at the manager, although she did wave a hand at him in a gesture which could have been interpreted as an apology for disturbing him. Maybe. He nodded, his brown eyes crinkled in an understanding smile, showing, I thought, admirable forbearance.

Mrs. Risk turned to Charlie, said, “Check in for us, would you dear? Zoë and I are going to the coffee shop. Join us there when you’ve stowed the luggage in our rooms. Rachel, stay with me.”

I smirked at Charlie. “Now you know why you were invited. Be careful with the unpacking. Some of my clothes are borrowed.”

I swung off to follow Mrs. Risk, who Zoë was leading across the lobby. The room soon metamorphosed from a lobby into a broad passageway that edged partitioned-off side areas. I found out later that lectures, card games, aerobics, dance lessons, and other activities were held in these alcoves.

We angled to the left and entered a long glassed-in walkway, one side of which overlooked a duck pond ringed with trees still clinging to the last of their scarlet and gold leaves. Another veer to the left brought us to the coffee shop door. The decor of the large room seemed to be ‘sci-fi diner,’ with everything in red or battle-ship grey. Inflated rocket ships swung from the low, star-speckled ceiling.

Zoë plopped herself down into one of the red molded plastic chairs. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it faster than I could settle in next to her. As she breathed a long stream of smoke at me I turned my face aside and coughed ostentatiously. “Didn’t realize you smoked, Zoë.”

“I don’t. It’s a bad habit I’m thinking of taking up.”

“Good idea. I hear in jail a cigarette’s as good as a dollar.” I smiled sweetly at her.

She ground out the smoldering tube and growled at me, “Don’t go telling your cop friends that I’ve done anything.”

Mrs. Risk’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about believing me?”

“My mind isn’t made up to do anything but listen. Say what you came to say. I’ll decide what I believe.”

Mrs. Risk said, “I won’t bother to correct you again about my relationship with the Suffolk police. Believe it or don’t, that’s your problem. My real concern is that what’s been happening to Pearl, to Solly, to everyone, is the result of a network of lies. Years of lying among all of you who call each other friends. Pearl—”

“If you’re going to accuse Pearl, I’m leaving,” Zoë said, placing both palms on the table as if to rise.

“Tchah. Go.” Mrs. Risk leaned back and signaled a waiter. “Then you’ll never know what I had to say.”

Zoë’s eyes narrowed and she paused, reptilian tongue flicking over dry lips. “Well. Well, forewarned is forearmed, that’s true.” She, too, leaned back in her chair. A waiter arrived and we all ordered coffee.

We sat in silence until it came. Mrs. Risk took her time stirring milk and sugar into hers. By the time she neatly placed the spoon on her paper napkin, Zoë’s fingers impatiently drummed the table.

“I’ll say it again,” said Mrs. Risk calmly. “You’ve all been lying to each other for years. For instance, Pearl allowed everyone to believe that she first saw Bella on the day of her birthday. But in truth, Bella had been with Pearl for nearly a month already.”

“More talk about Pearl,” muttered Zoë. She glared at Mrs. Risk. “Can the buildup. You said you knew who killed Solly. So, who?”

That’s what she’d said at the front desk to stop Zoë from getting us tossed? She was going to try to flim-flam Zoë with a giant flopping lie? Thank God Michael hadn’t heard her.

Mrs. Risk resumed coolly, “Maybe you missed the significance of what I said just now. Bella had already been in Wyndham a month, Zoë. And her presence wasn’t even her idea. Pearl hired a detective to find her. She called Bella on the phone. Whatever was said resulted in Pearl sending her a plane ticket.”

Zoë exclaimed, but Mrs. Risk held up a silencing palm. “She proceeded with caution, but wanted a reconciliation. Which, she assures me, happened.”

Zoë scowled. “Okay, okay. But I don’t get what you’re aiming at. So Pearlie wanted to check her sister out without any of us poking our two cents in. I can see why. We wouldn’t’ve exactly been supportive.”

“True. But realize this: Bella had been keeping herself alive all these years in France by working con games and pulling scams on men, and generally flouting the law, which I don’t think Pearl knew until recently from an outside source.”

That source being us, which led to our being unwelcome today, I thought to myself wryly. Lot of good it did, spreading that knowledge around.

Zoë shrugged. “She couldn’t have been too good at it—look how poor she was when she hit town.”

“Look how fast she got Solly to do whatever she wanted,” I said.

Zoë gave that a grudging nod.

I continued. “She had plenty of time to check into Solly’s finances, discover how wealthy he was, before she ever met him. Time enough to plan out a scam against him. She was an old hand at manipulating men. She admitted it herself.”

Zoë said, “So you mean it’s Bella? But why would Bella kill him?”

Mrs. Risk opened her mouth but I interrupted. “Could be a few reasons,” I said. Now that I’d gotten started in this direction, I was warming to it. “One, she never married again after Stanley. Maybe she hates men. Or maybe she has no use for them in a permanent arrangement, which is understandable. You said yourself she didn’t love Solly. She’d become his heir. Why not collect?”

Zoë interrupted, “She didn’t know what was in the will until after the funeral.”

“Another lie,” put in Mrs. Risk.

Zoë made a noise like a guttural exhale.

I added, “Or, maybe she killed him out of anger at what Solly did to Pearl.”

Mrs. Risk began a violent coughing spell, which did nothing to distract Zoë. “What he did to Pearl? What?”

Mrs. Risk rolled her eyes, but said nothing, so I plunged on. “He’d been stealing money from her for years, and deliberately put her into bad financial situations to strip her of the rest of her money. Pearl’s not here tonight to revive her career for old time’s sake. Thanks to Solly, she’s broke!”

Zoë, who’d leaned closer and closer to me with every word I’d spoken, flopped back again in her chair, mouth open, eyes stricken.

One corner of Mrs. Risk’s mouth lifted in a grimace as she watched Zoë, which told me that it was possible she wouldn’t rip me to shreds later, even though I’d obviously exceeded her ‘program’. Well, I thought to myself crossly, that’s what she gets for not telling me what she has in mind.

“He wouldn’t. He—he couldn’t do that to Pearl. I know he’s done some things in his life, but of all people. To hurt Pearlie.” Tears welled in her hooded eyes.

Zoë tried to pull herself together with the aid of a few gulps of coffee. “Are you sure about this? Why would he do something so terrible to the only woman he really loved?”

Mrs. Risk’s passive attitude seemed to give me permission, so I told her about the effect on Solly of Pearl’s marriage to Bernie.

Zoë thought that over. She shook her head.

Resignedly she said, “So Pearl and Bella really got back together after all those years. I guess Pearlie really has changed. She tried to tell me, but I wasn’t listening. To hunt for Bella like that, and then forgive her? And she said Bella changed, too, huh?”

I nodded. Zoë digested this for a few minutes.

“All the times Pearlie told me she’d learned some painful lessons the last few years,” Zoë continued humbly, “I should’ve believed her. But wait. How come Bella’s been treating Pearl like she’s got a social disease, if they’ve really gotten back together? Is it something to do with the theft of the necklace? Wait a minute. What about that necklace, huh? Did Bella not steal it?”

I glanced at Mrs. Risk out of the corner of my eye. Would we tell her about their trick on Solly? About the necklace theft being faked? Or at least, until it was discovered to be a real theft. But Mrs. Risk smoothly twisted Zoë back to Solly’s murder.

“Bella isn’t the one I suspect, dear.”

Wait. Hadn’t we just made a good case against Bella?

“Did you know about Ilene’s rape years ago, when she was sixteen?” Mrs. Risk asked.

Zoë nodded. “I’m one of the few who do. Pearlie didn’t want it to blight the poor thing’s life and singing career so we hushed it up. In spite of all Pearl’s efforts, though, I don’t think Ilene’s ever gotten over it. Did you know, Pearl’s the only person Ilene’s ever allowed herself to get close to all these years? Even before it happened, Ilene was immature for her age, pathetically dependent on Pearl. She’s still dependent on Pearl. She was lucky it was somebody like Pearl who took her in off the streets back then.”

“Lucky? If she’d been somewhere else, she wouldn’t have gotten raped. We figure it was one of Pearl’s wonderful friends,” I said tartly.

Zoë looked at me oddly, as if working something out in her mind.

Mrs. Risk watched her. After a long silence, Mrs. Risk said softly, “I think what you’re considering telling us will not be the surprise you might assume, Zoë.”

Puzzled, I looked from one woman to the other, and back again.

Her face reddening, Zoë reached deep into her skirt pocket and brought out something totally unexpected—by me. “I don’t think I want this any more.” In front of Mrs. Risk’s cup she dropped a little gold box as if it burned her fingers. The top was decorated with tiny engraved starflowers.

“The box!” I said with a gasp. I stared with horror at Mrs. Risk, wondering when she’d lost possession of the box and how Zoë got it, and what Michael would do when he found out about us concealing evidence. Visions of jail sentences made me dizzy.

Mrs. Risk turned it over and pushed it towards me with a long finger. Inscribed on the back in letters so worn with age that they were barely decipherable was, ‘To my Zoë, my Life. Love forever, Solly.’ I read the words aloud.

“A box, dear. Not
the
box,” said Mrs. Risk.

“Zoë means ‘life’ in English,” said Zoë, with contempt in her voice. “He was always the ultimate romantic. The ultimate prick.”

A thought seeped into my mind, edging into consciousness until I acknowledged it. “You’re saying Solly raped Ilene?” Zoë’s sickened expression confirmed it. “But. But how could Pearl keep him around after that?”

Mrs. Risk said, “My guess is that Pearl never knew who did it. Ilene was completely devoted to her, and overwhelmed with gratitude for her loving care. After all, Ilene figured that to Pearl she was only a stray kid off the streets. She wouldn’t let herself be the reason for Pearl to lose her precious Solly.” Mrs. Risk gazed searchingly at Zoë while she spoke as if seeking confirmation. Zoë nodded.

“Remember how much Pearl said she owed Solly? At the time of the rape, by all accounts, Pearl’s career was just beginning to blossom. Ilene knew Pearl’d been traumatically wounded by her sister and fiancé. They’d left her not a very brave person. Pearl would be terrified to pursue her career without Solly’s expertise at that point. Besides that, she’d wrapped herself in an imagined world of ‘perfect’ people. She needed to believe in the loyalty of everyone around her.

“You see, Zoë, that’s what, during the last few years, I’ve been slowly helping Pearl free herself of. This tissue of lies she’d woven in her own mind, about how perfectly good, kind, upright, and unselfish her friends were. That’s a terrible burden to place on people. No one could live up to that image, and therefore you’ve all had to conceal the human side of yourselves from her. You’ve all lied to her, and she, in effect, demanded it.”

She turned to me for a second. “Remember how Vivian snapped that Pearl was no judge of character?” I nodded. Vivian had been referring to Pearl’s affection for Bella at the time, I remembered.

“Well, now Pearl is beginning to realize you must see a person as he or she really is, in order to truly love that person. You can’t love someone you don’t know. And if someone must lie to you to remain a friend, that friendship’s fake and too fragile to survive the stress of time and the demands of living.”

I started at these words, but she only sighed, not noticing. “Bless Pearl’s well-meaning heart, but it’s as if she’s finally waking up.”

“So out of misguided love, Ilene protected Pearl from knowing that Solly was a rapist,” I said slowly. Then Ilene killed Solly, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes as if that would shut out Ilene’s pain. But why kill him now? After all those years?