The Beaufort Sisters Read online

  ‘We’d better sleep in separate wings. Just to keep Mrs Henriques appeased. She’s very Baptist.’

  He smiled broadly, happiness making him almost handsome. ‘In front of Mrs Henriques I’ll be the soul of discretion.’

  But he came to her room that night and she made a very good pretence of welcoming him into her bed. He had none of Tim’s subtlety as a lover; he was proud of his equipment and he displayed it like a salesman. But she restrained him, telling him she liked to be brought on gradually, while she made her final decision that this was what she wanted as a solution. She would forever be in love with Tim, but Frank was next best. And he loved her, which was something. She opened herself to him and when it was over he took her tears for granted.

  ‘I feel like crying myself, I’m so happy.’

  ‘Oh Frank,’ she murmured, choked with guilt and sorry for him. ‘Be good to me.’

  ‘Could I be anything else?’ he said and was all at once a very gentle and considerate lover.

  Later, after he had shown off the size and value of his equipment again (‘I’m proud of that, you know’), she said, ‘Let’s get married right away, Frank.’

  He was sated, but he was still shrewd. ‘You mean now? Elope or something? Your father would kill me.’

  She sat up in bed. Out in the night a hoot-owl challenged the moon; a mile away on the Mississippi a boat-whistle replied. She wondered if they were warning notes, her imagination expanding with the enormity of what she was contemplating. But she had committed herself and all she could do was lay the foundations for the future.

  ‘If we marry, Frank, you’ll have to stop thinking about pleasing my father. Nina’s lost Tim because Daddy tried to run his life – ’

  ‘I suspected that, but I didn’t like to say it.’ He lay still, waiting for her to go on.

  ‘I shouldn’t want to lose you that way.’ The salt of hypocrisy tinged her tongue; it was a taste she would get used to as time went by. ‘I have to come first with you, not my father.’

  He stroked her back with fingers that were surprisingly rough for a man who did no hard labour. But perhaps he did work with his hands, perhaps as a hobby. It struck her that she had no idea how he occupied his time when he was not with her.

  ‘Okay,’ he said quietly.

  ‘We shan’t elope, but we’ll tell my parents tomorrow that we’re going to be married right away.’

  ‘We’ll tell mine, too.’

  ‘Of course.’ She had never met his parents and she had not given a thought to them.

  He ran his hands over her like a blind man. ‘You’re beautiful. I just can’t believe my luck.’

  She felt him rising again and she rolled on top of him. He would never be the lover Tim had been, but he had his compensations. She loved sex and he was the sort of bull who could satisfy her.

  They went back to Kansas City next morning. Lucas and Edith welcomed Frank into the family, though Edith wanted to know why they couldn’t wait. ‘Nina gave me no chance to give her a big wedding. A mother looks forward to that – ’

  ‘It wouldn’t be appropriate, Mother. Not now, not while Nina is feeling as she is. I think the quieter our wedding, the better.’

  ‘I suppose so. But why can’t you wait? Am I never going to have a big wedding?’

  ‘From what I read in that old edition of the Independent, you had a big one, the biggest in all Missouri up till then.’

  ‘One’s own wedding is different. A mother gets more pleasure out of her daughter’s wedding – it’s a law of nature. No offence, sweetheart.’

  ‘None taken,’ said Lucas, favourable towards Frank Minett but wondering if a man bought trouble when he took on a son-in-law. He had certainly bought trouble with that English son-of-a-bitch. He had been unnaturally quiet over the past week, but no one commented on it; they took it for granted that he was grieving for Nina, his favourite, who had been dealt such a blow. What he actually felt was guilt, for he was convinced now that if he had not put Pedemont, the private investigator, on Tim’s trail, Tim might still be here. Still playing around with the mystery woman, perhaps, but still here. And, more importantly, Michael would still be here, too.

  ‘Get married as quietly as you like,’ he said. ‘The quieter the better, as you say.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Edith said reluctantly. ‘There’s already enough gossip about Tim’s disappearance.’

  The absence of Tim and Michael had been kept from even their closest friends, with the exception of Magnus McKea; there was still the hope that Tim would have a change of heart and would return, or anyway send back Michael. But eventually, they knew, everyone would have to be told something. For the time being their friends, and the rest of the world, had something else to talk about: Russia had just exploded its first atomic bomb. For once Lucas was grateful to the Communists.

  Margaret and Frank Minett were married a week later in the main house. The only guests were her parents and sisters, his parents and his brother and sister-in-law from Detroit, and Magnus McKea. They left that night for a honeymoon in Acapulco, a new resort where none of their friends were likely to be vacationing in summer. Lucas gave them the honeymoon as an added wedding present and Margaret noticed that Frank did not make even a token protest. She knew then that she had married a man who, unlike Tim, would take the Beaufort money for granted.

  Once committed she determined to make the best of Frank and the situation she had created. He loved her, even if he also loved her money; he was the perfect husband for a honeymoon, ready for bed every time she looked at him. He liked strutting around their suite naked, a habit he would keep up when they returned home. He had a strong muscular frame, like that of an ambitious road-worker; but he had one physical drawback in Margaret’s eyes. His chest and belly were covered in dark hair and it took her some time to get used to his hairiness. Sometimes, only half awake in the morning, she would see him standing looking at her and, in her still sleepy eyes, he would look like a mat hung out to dry.

  ‘I get it from my Sicilian grandfather,’ he told her when, one day beside the hotel swimming pool, she mentioned it as delicately as she could. ‘Our name was Minetta. Didn’t you know?’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t tell him that her father had called him a wop when she had first brought him home. It was only later that Lucas, remembering what Johnny Lazia had had done to George Biff, began to see other things in Frank besides his Italian background. ‘Who changed it?’

  ‘My father. I was born in Clay County, but Pop wanted to get into Republican politics and a Republican had no hope of getting elected in Clay County. So we moved over to Johnson County and Pop decided that though it was safe Republican territory, an Italian Republican didn’t sound right. So he changed our name to Minett and now he’s a county commissioner. By the time our son comes along no one will ever think he might have some Italian blood in him. Not even if he grows up to be like this.’ He stroked the mat on his chest. ‘Sicilians aren’t the only hairy men in America.’

  She smiled, beginning almost to love him for his simple pride in himself. ‘Let’s have some more loving before lunch.’

  He looked ready to leap on her there beside the pool. ‘You’re full of surprises. I never dreamed you’d be like this, as hungry for it as I am.’

  ‘Sicilians aren’t the only sexy ones.’

  They returned to Kansas City at the end of September, taking over the suite in the big house that Tim and Nina had occupied when they first came back from Germany. The atmosphere in the family was still depressed, with Nina silent and withdrawn, still unable to believe what had happened to her.

  It was decided that, to dampen the rumours that were now flying like autumn leaves in the country club district, a statement should be released. Roy Roberts, the editor of the Star and one of Lucas’s club acquaintances, sent out his most discreet reporter. Nina and her mother saw the reporter and next day a small item appeared saying that Mr and Mrs Timothy Davoren had separated by mutual consent. Nothing
was said about Michael. Nobody in the country club set believed the story and only scattered more rumours. Star readers in the poorer sections of town and the outer suburbs nodded their heads and said what could you expect of the rich who were always getting married and divorced. The rich, of course, didn’t give a damn what the poorer sections of town and the suburbs thought.

  The day after the return from Mexico Margaret, without telling Frank, went to see Dr Voss. He examined her and then with his usual bluntness said, ‘You’ve missed your second period, eh? How long have you been married – three weeks? Well, you’re not the first girl who jumped the gun getting into the bridal bed. Does your mother know about this?’

  ‘No. When it arrives, can you say it’s premature? I don’t want her and Daddy thinking the worst of Frank.’

  ‘I’ll need to take some tests – we’re not even sure you are pregnant yet. But if you are, he could turn out to be the only overweight premature baby I’ve delivered. There’s a first time for everything, I guess. Go home and give the father the joyous news. If he doesn’t already know.’

  ‘That’s another thing.’ She knew there was never a perfect secret: someone always had to be told. ‘I’m not sure it’s Frank’s baby.’

  Dr Voss was a small thin man with no hair and almost no eyebrows; he had a bland egg-like face that never showed any surprise, the perfect bedside manner. ‘Well, so long as it’s not black or yellow, we’ll try and keep that information from him. But you Beaufort sisters get yourselves in a fix, don’t you? Do you love Frank Minett?’

  ‘Yes.’ She tried hard to be truthful.

  He studied her for a moment, but it was impossible to read his face. ‘What about the baby? Are you going to love it, too?’

  ‘Of course.’ Even in her own ears she sounded more sincere than in the earlier reply.

  ‘Then that’s all we have to worry about, isn’t it? The poor little bastard – just a figure of speech – isn’t going to starve. Give my regards to your husband.’

  Everyone was delighted with the news, though Edith privately confessed she was surprised at how soon Margaret had become pregnant. ‘You’re sure you weren’t pregnant beforehand, darling? I’d hate to think all my daughters were going to arrive at the altar in the family way.’

  ‘Mother, I’ve never asked you if you and Daddy went to bed before you were married – ’

  ‘I’d slap your face if you did.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Mother. So don’t ask.’

  ‘Well – ’ Edith kissed her daughter. ‘I’m happy for you. And for Frank, he’s such a nice man. But how will you get on at college, being taught by your husband? You won’t go to Vassar now, will you, and leave Frank here?’

  ‘I’m giving up college. I don’t fancy being a pregnant senior.’

  ‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have waited …’

  Margaret changed the subject. ‘Do you think it’s wise to let Nina go off to England on her own?’

  ‘I offered to go with her, but she said she’d rather go alone. One can understand it, I suppose. She wants to go looking for Tim and Michael herself. She’s taking a maid with her – Rosemary, I think. And George is going, too. Your father insisted that she needed a man along to take care of things.’

  All the time she had been in Acapulco Margaret had kept in touch with the situation at home. She had called Kansas City every day, each time fearful that Tim might have returned. How would she react, coming back from her honeymoon with Frank and finding him, her one true love, back living with Nina? But there had been no word of him or Michael, except that the new investigators had traced them to Canada. When she had returned home she had not really been surprised when Nina had told her she was going to England to look for them.

  ‘I can’t just sit here waiting,’ Nina had said. ‘If nothing else, I’ll get away from all the silent pity everyone’s giving me. God, it’s been awful, Meg!’

  ‘Don’t cry, darling – ’

  ‘I’m not going to. I’m past all that now – I couldn’t wring another tear out of myself.’

  ‘You’ll cry your eyes out when you find them.’

  ‘Do you think I’ll find them? No, that sounds too pessimistic. I’ve got to believe I’ll find them.’

  ‘How long will you be away?’

  ‘I don’t know. Who knows, Tim might even have gone back to where we used to live, Stoke Bayard, and is just waiting for me to turn up. Maybe all he wanted to do was to get away from Daddy again.’

  ‘Good luck.’ But she knew in her heart that Nina would never find Tim in Stoke Bayard or anywhere else where they might have shared memories. She knew him well enough to know that he was not sentimental.

  ‘Take over my house,’ Nina said. ‘I’ll be away for at least six months, though I haven’t told Mother and Daddy that.’

  ‘I can’t move into your house – ’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’ll be standing empty. And you need to get Frank away from Mother and Daddy. It just won’t work out, living in the same house as them.’

  ‘Daddy’s offered to build us a house here in the park. But I’m not sure – ’ What Margaret meant was that she was not sure whether her marriage to Frank would last; but she couldn’t say that. ‘All right. We’ll take your house and think about building our own when you come back. Would you mind if I changed some of your furnishings?’

  ‘Of course not. Just take care of my paintings, that’s all. The ones by Steve Hamill. They have a sentimental value.’

  Nina went abroad at the end of October 1949. Margaret and Frank moved into the Davoren house two days after Nina’s departure; but not before Margaret had been in touch with Lucy Drage, the interior decorator, and had had Nina’s canopied bed replaced with one of the new emperor-sized beds. She told Frank it was to give them more room for experimental love-making, but the real reason was that she could not bear the thought of going to bed with Frank in a bed where Tim had made love to Nina.

  And then Dave Pedemont called her.

  2

  ‘No, I’d rather not come see you at your house, Mrs Minett.’

  ‘Who did you say you were?’

  ‘I’m a private investigator. I was employed by your father, but I think it would be better if you didn’t mention my name to him till after you’ve seen me.’

  ‘Is it about my brother-in-law Mr Davoren?’

  ‘In a way, yes it is.’

  All at once she didn’t want to know anything about Tim. She felt a wave of nausea, but it had nothing to do with morning sickness. She was afraid; she could not bear to face Tim again. Yet she heard herself say. ‘I’ll see you, Mr Pedemont. Where?’

  ‘If you go south on Route 71, just past Belton there’s a side road – ’

  ‘No.’ She was afraid now for another reason, remembering the kidnapping of Nina; she wasn’t going to be foolish enough to meet some stranger out on a country road. ‘No, you’d better come here to my house … I’m sorry, Mr Pedemont. You come here or I don’t see you.’

  ‘Okay.’ He sounded as if he had sighed. ‘You’re asking for it.’

  He arrived at the house within the hour, in mid-morning. There was no one except the servants to witness his arrival. Lucas was at his office, Frank at the university, Edith at a board meeting of the Nelson Gallery, Sally and Prue at school. Pedemont was shown into the living-room and one of the maids came upstairs to tell Margaret that Mr Phillips was waiting to see her downstairs.

  ‘Mr Phillips? Oh yes.’

  She went downstairs wondering why Pedemont was going to such lengths to hide his identity. He stood in the middle of the living-room, feet firmly planted yet at the same time he looked uneasy and ready to run. He was younger than he had sounded on the phone, spare, bony, with a flat face behind horn-rimmed glasses. He looked more like an unsuccessful book-keeper than a private investigator. Humphrey Bogart had made it difficult for private eyes to live up to their image.

  Pedemont licked his lips and came straight to
the point. ‘It’s about Mr Davoren, sure. You see, your father hired me to tail you and Mr Davoren when the two of you – You all right, Mrs Minett?’

  She sat down, feeling she was about to throw up. The room wavered in her gaze, as if the earth had trembled beneath the house. She wanted a glass of water, anything at all to drink, but she couldn’t ring for a servant. She had one clear thought in her stunned mind: she had to keep everyone away from this man Pedemont.

  ‘I’ll be all right. Just give me a moment.’

  He stood watching her anxiously, his feet apart and still firmly planted, as if he were afraid that if he moved he would fall over. Then, when she at last nodded, he went on: ‘It was last July and August. I had you under surveillance every time you met Mr Davoren.’

  ‘When did my father ask you to – to tail me, as you call it?’

  ‘Oh, he didn’t ask me to keep an eye on you.’ He moved his feet at last, looked around for a chair and sat down. But he looked no more at ease. ‘I was tailing Mr Davoren. Believe me, when I found out he was spending his time in those motels with you – I mean when I found out who you were – I mean you could have pushed me over, just like that.’

  ‘What did my father say when you told him I’d been – I’d been with Mr Davoren?’

  ‘Ah well – well, that’s it, you see. I didn’t tell him. I dunno why, maybe I thought it would be too much for him. All he was really interested in was whether Mr Davoren was playing around. He didn’t care who the woman was.’

  ‘So nobody knows but you?’

  ‘That’s correct.’ He began to sound a little more formal, giving even more the impression of being a book-keeper. ‘You and me and Mr Davoren. And I gather Mr Davoren isn’t around any more.’

  ‘So why have you come to see me?’ But she had already guessed, felt nausea coming on again and fought it.

  ‘Ah well – well – ’ He licked his thin lips; he had no experience in blackmail. He had investigated cases of it for clients; but that was far different from what he had in mind now. ‘I don’t think you’d like your father or your husband to know about that affair, would you?’