Murder For Revenge

“What’s the matter, Ross?” I said in the same hushed tone. “Didn’t you think I’d make it?”

“After the way you put VanDam to sleep, I had no doubt,” Ross Yates whispered. “But last night I dreamt you didn’t come. Christ Almighty, this was the toughest month of my life. The longer I stayed away from you, the more I wanted you.”

He was tall and rangy, like a cowboy, with windblown hair the colour of flax. His face reminded me of a soldier’s: tough, vigilant, competent. Seemingly not the kind of man to make such an admission. I very much liked that he had. That bastard Willie never would have opened up like that.

“You certainly know how to make a woman’s head spin.”

He laughed. “That isn’t all I can make spin.” His gray eyes appeared screwed into the bone of their sockets. They sparked with licentious memory. When I say I’ll do something, they seemed to say, it’s as good as done. “Those early mornings when VanDam was upstairs…” He chuckled. “I bet your kitchen table never saw that kind of action before or since. VanDam may have been a genius at business, but he sure was short on imagination. No way he ever made you sing like I do.”

God, how right he was! And he laughed, seeing it in my eyes.

“It was my lucky day when I showed you the report on Eddie.”

“And even luckier for both of us I made you sit on it until the wedding reception.”

“You really do have a deliciously evil mind.”

“Hush,” I whispered. “Caro’s coming back.” I was flushed and excited and terrified all at once.

As he turned his most brilliant smile on Caroline, Ross said to me out of the corner of his mouth, “What a quick study you were, practicing with the gun you had me steal from Eddie. I told you everything would come out fine as long as you didn’t jerk the trigger. You did just like I taught you: exhale and slowly squeeze it.”

I was so pleased I put my hand on his thigh underneath the table.

Lunch at the Locanda was just as I had imagined it would be. Ross was gentle and fu

Still, Caro insisted on going out alone in the small hours of the night. I asked Ross to watch over her from a distance when she went, and prayed that time would heal her wounds.

Gradually, she grew calmer. Truth to tell, Ross was a good and comforting companion to us both.

“All my life,” he told me one day in Venice, “I’ve settled for things. I was an Army brat, so I had to settle for making new friends almost every year. I didn’t really want to be a PI, but I could never get my detective’s shield in the NYPD; written tests were never my thing. The girl I fell in love with didn’t love me, so I settled for someone I liked but didn’t love. That lasted a half-dozen miserable years. Then, my luck changed.” He smiled at me and my heart lifted. “I was hired by VanDam.”

By the time we arrived in London it appeared that Caroline had returned to her old, su

My agent had booked a two-night engagement at the Royal Albert Hall. I was to play with the Royal Philharmonic, so there was a full week of rehearsals at the hall, more than was necessary for a solo recital. Also, there were egos other than mine to contend with. The conductor, a man whom I had always admired but had never before met, turned out to be a prima do

“Careful,” he mouthed to me during a break late in the gruelling rehearsals. “This man is a maximum boor, but he has the power to ruin you.” Ross, a quick study if ever there was one, had already seen just how small and incestuous the world of classical music was. I appreciated his candour-and his concern, which was about 180 degrees from what Willie’s reaction would have been. My late husband no doubt would have belted the maestro in the face, if he’d bothered to show up at all.

“I’ll remember to love him as if he were my own brother.” I looked up at the tiers of seats. “They don’t look like holes, do they?” I drank from a bottle of Evian water Ross handed me. “The first time I came here, I couldn’t help thinking of the Beatles’ ‘A Day in the Life.’ I wonder if Le

“’I’d love to turn you ooon,’” Ross sang softly in a surprisingly good tenor voice.

I laughed and, draining the water, kissed him warmly on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

I watched him climb down from the high stage and disappear into the darkness of the theatre, where he took his seat beside Caro. The rehearsal carried on. But, gradually, I found that I was playing by memory alone. My mind seemed to be oddly detached from my body, elastic as gum, as distorted as if I was in a house of mirrors. Tripping like Le

My stomach turned abruptly queasy, and I stopped playing. My hands, arched and ready, hung suspended above the keyboard. They looked like spiders spi

The bench upended behind me with a great clatter, and the orchestra ceased to play.

“I… I…”

Somehow I became aware of Ross ru

“I… I…”

Ross mounted the steep steps three at a time, and I tottered toward him on legs I could no longer feel. He seemed to be standing at the edge, waiting for me. I was almost to his strong, welcoming arms when I lost all control of my body. I knew I was going over the edge, and my arms began to flail. I made a desperate lunge for Ross’s powerful shoulder, but it was too late. My fingers grasped only air.

I fell, past all the thousand holes in Albert Hall.

I saw a quick flash of the maestro’s face, distorted by shock. Then I struck the floor with a numbing blow. A great roaring filled my ears, drowning out even the thunder of the screams and shouts of those all around me. It was the first chord of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. It was the rush of my own blood.

I remembered that toccata came from the feminine past participle of the Italian toccare, which meant “to touch.” Bach’s majestic chord touched me in the stu

In an instant, even that was gone.

“Welcome back.” Ross, smiling faintly, stood over my hospital bed. “We thought we’d lost you.”

“Mom!” On his left I could see Caro, her face a sea of worry. “You’re tougher than anyone believed. You came through.”

I had a sudden urge to grab her and hold her tight, but I couldn’t move.

“You’re paralyzed, Perse.” Ross took a deep breath. “You broke your neck and your spine in four places.”

Terror gripped me and, looking into Caro’s sorrowful face, I was overcome by a desire to tell her how much I loved her. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

“I’m afraid your speech was affected too,” Ross said. “Temporarily or permanently, the doctors don’t know.”