Страница 52 из 61
"I… held… her… over… the… railing… before… I… dropped… her…" Ted picked up a vase from the table and threw it across the room at the marble fireplace. It smashed, and sprays of delicate crystal cascaded across the carpet. "No! It's not possible!" He turned and ran blindly for the door. He slammed it behind him with a force that shattered the window panel.
They watched as he ran across the lawn to the trees that separated the Spa grounds from the Crocker Woodland.
"He's guilty," Bartlett said. "There's no way I can get him off now. Give me a clean-cut liar and I can work with him. If I put him on the stand, the jury will find Teddy arrogant. If I don't we'll have Elizabeth describing how he shouted at Leila, and two eyewitnesses to tell how he killed her. And I'm supposed to work with that?" He closed his eyes. "By the way, he's just proved to us that he has a violent temper."
"There was a special reason for that outburst," Craig said quietly. "When Ted was eight years old, he saw his father in a drunken rage hold his mother over the terrace of their penthouse."
He paused to catch his breath. "The difference is his father decided not to drop her."
Four
At two o'clock, Elizabeth phoned Syd and asked him to meet her at the Olympic pool. When she got there, a mixed water-aerobics class was starting. Men and women holding beach balls were studiously following the directions of the instructor. "Hold the ball between your palms; swing from side to side… no, keep it underwater… that's where we get the pull." Music was turned on.
She chose to sit at a table at the far end of the patio. There was no one nearby. Ten minutes later, she heard a scraping sound behind her and gasped. It was Syd. He had cut through the bushes and pushed aside a chair to get onto the patio. He nodded in the direction of the pool. "We had the janitor's apartment in Brooklyn when I was growing up. It's amazing how much muscle tone my mother got swinging a broom."
His tone was pleasant enough, but his ma
The scraping sound. Had she heard a chair being moved last night when she was leaving the pool? And Monday night, she thought she had seen something or someone moving. Was it possible she'd been watched while she was swimming? It was a fleeting but upsetting thought.
"For a place that costs so much to relax in, there are quite a few uptight people around here," Syd said. He sat down across from her.
"And I'm the most uptight, I suppose. Syd, you had your own money in Merry-Go-Round. You brought the script to Leila. You handled some of the script revisions. I have to talk to the playwright, Clayton Anderson. Where can I get in touch with him?"
"I have no idea. I never met him. The contract was negotiated through his lawyer."
"Tell me the lawyer's name."
"No."
"That's because there is no lawyer, right, Syd? Helmut wrote that play, didn't he? He brought it to you, and you brought it to Leila. Helmut knew Min would throw a fit if she found out about it. That play was written by a man obsessed-by Leila. That's why for Leila the play would have worked."
His face turned a dull red. "You don't know what you're talking about."
She handed him the note Ted had written to her. "Don't I? Tell me about meeting Ted the night Leila died. Why didn't you come forward with that information months ago."
Syd sca
Elizabeth leaned forward. "According to this, the Baron heard Ted struggling with Leila, and Ted told you that Leila was dead. Did it ever occur to either of you to see what had happened, if there was any chance to help her?"
Syd shoved his chair back. "I've listened to you long enough."
"No, you haven't. Syd, why did you go to Leila's apartment that night? Why did the Baron go there? She didn't expect either one of you."
Syd stood up. Anger made his face ugly. "Listen, Elizabeth, your sister wiped me out when she quit that play. I went to ask her to reconsider. I never got inside that apartment building. Ted ran past me on the street. I chased him. He told me she was dead. Who lives after a fall like that? I stayed out of it. I never saw the Baron that night." He threw Ted's letter back at her. "Aren't you satisfied? Ted's going to jail. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Don't leave, Syd. I've still got lots of questions. The letter Cheryl stole. Why did you destroy it? It might have helped Ted. I thought you were so anxious to help him."
Syd sat down heavily. "Look, Elizabeth, I'll make a deal with you. Tearing up that letter was my mistake. Cheryl swears she didn't write that one or any like it. I believe her."
Elizabeth waited. She was not going to concede that Scott believed Cheryl as well.
"You're right about the Baron," Syd continued. "He wrote the play. You know how Leila put him down. He wanted to have power over her, make her indebted to him. Another guy would want to drag her into bed." He waited. " Elizabeth, if Cheryl can't leave tomorrow and be at her press reception, she'll lose this series. The studio will drop her if they find out she's being detained. You've got Scott's ear. Persuade him to leave Cheryl out of this, and I'll give you a hint about those letters."
Elizabeth stared at him. Syd seemed to take her silence for assent. As he spoke, he tapped the table with his fingertips. "The Baron wrote Merry-Go-Round. I've got his handwritten changes on the early scripts. Let's play 'Suppose,' Elizabeth. Suppose the play is a hit. The Baron doesn't need Min anymore. He's tired of the Spa game. Now he's a Broadway playwright, and constantly with Leila. How could Min prevent that from happening? By making sure the play is a flop. How does she do that? By destroying Leila. And she was just the one who knew how. Ted and Leila were together for three years. If Cheryl wanted to get on their case, why would she have waited that long?"
He did not wait for her response. The chair made the same grating sound as it had when he'd arrived. Elizabeth stared after him. It was possible. It made sense. She could hear Leila say, "God, Sparrow, Min's really got the hots for the Toy Soldier, hasn't she? I'd hate to be the one who got cozy with him. Min would be on the warpath with a hatchet."
Or with scissors and paste?
Syd disappeared through the hedges. Watching him, Elizabeth could not see the grim smile he allowed himself as he passed from her vision.
It might work, Syd thought. He'd been wondering how to play this card, and she had made it easy for him. If she fell for it, Cheryl might be in the clear. The smile disappeared. Might be.
But what about himself?