The Amber Eyes Read online

  “You’re telling me? So what? Audrey eats me up.”

  “Yes. But if she should find out what I know …”

  “You wouldn’t tell her, for God’s sake?” Don groaned, genuinely concerned.

  “I will certainly tell her if you start up with Rona again. Audrey doesn’t even know about Rona. She’s young, innocent, a properly reared girl.”

  Don’s laughter was low in his throat.

  His mother said, “Stop that. It took almost all I had to get you out of your messes back there in Denver and you have to make it up to me. You have to marry Audrey and provide me something to live on.”

  “Maybe Uncle William will remember you in his will,” Don said.

  “It was Uncle William’s wife who had the money, Don. I suppose he has enough to see him through but he certainly has no great fortune. You’re marrying a girl who will come into more than half a million dollars in just six weeks. Now that Lisa is dead, she’ll get six hundred thousand. If you don’t marry her at once you are an awful fool. Something might stop it. Marry her. Elope. I beg of you, Donnie. Please.”

  Don said, “Too bad Caroline isn’t the older, Sophia.”

  Aunt Sophia hissed. “Don’t be an even greater fool. Carrie wouldn’t look at you. Audrey is the rug under your feet. She only pretends to be sophisticated and smart. She’s wild about you.”

  “She’s so damn skinny,” Don complained.

  “She’s a very chic-looking woman. She has class. She’ll be the kind of wife you need. You’ve been having your fun for years, Don, and as I said, I myself will tell what we both know if you don’t do as I say and marry her at once.”

  Don lit a cigarette and said, “I wish to God there was anything decent to drink in this house. Or anything else anybody would want, for that matter. You’re all wet about Rona. She won’t bother me again.”

  “That’s what you think. She married William to spite me, she says so herself. And I think he married her to spite me, too. He’s my own brother. But he dislikes me, and it’s because I’ve stuck up for you, Don. Rona will go away now. She’ll have to. If you marry Audrey at once and go to Honolulu, say, for six weeks, we’ll both soon be solvent.”

  “And on what do we honeymoon, my dear Sophia?”

  ‘I’ll get a loan. I’ll put a second mortgage on the house. Please marry Audrey. The minute you do, I’ll leave for Denver and get the money for you. I know what—I’ll offer to take Lisa’s body back and then I’ll get money for you. Will you promise me, Don?”

  Don said, irritatingly, “It means Reno or Las Vegas …”

  “None of that. You get married in California. It takes a little longer to get a license, but I won’t stand for a Nevada wedding. Never. Go and talk to Audrey. Tomorrow first thing you two must go wherever you go here and get your marriage license and take tests if you must. Don’t wait. You might lose her.”

  Caroline came into the kitchen by the door which led from the back hall. There was a slight stir in the pantry and then I heard the swinging door to the dining room open and close. Carrie hadn’t spoken. They had heard her open and close the back-hall door.

  “Daddy is much better, but he is still awake and yakking with Martin. These doctors! More coffee?”

  “No,” I said. Then I said, “What did Don Quayle do in Denver that made him decide to leave?”

  “Oh, he forged some checks. The police told him he had to get out of town after Aunt Sophia made the checks good. That’s why she’s so broke. He’s a stinker all right. Daddy’s going to have a fit when Audrey insists on marrying Don. He’ll hit the ceiling. That’s not good for his heart. Honestly, though, since the forgery was cleared up, at Aunt Sophia’s expense, I think Daddy should give Don the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Was that the only reason he left Denver?” I asked.

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  I said, “How long have you known he was in San Francisco, Caroline?”

  “I only found it out a couple of days ago. Martin and I stepped out to a night club and there they were, Don and Audrey. I promised Audrey not to tell. She said she wanted to break the news herself, and that’s her privilege.”

  Eight

  Caroline said after a while that it might be more comfortable in the living room. That was her mistake. The chairs were softer, and the lighting was more pleasant, but there sat Donald Quayle, still, and Audrey Alby. Just sitting. It was a strange courtship, if you could call it that.

  I thought Aunt Sophia had gone to bed, another mistake, because almost at once she came downstairs, trailing in something—wouldn’t you know it?—lavender. One of those ensembles, a nightgown and robe and satin boudoir slippers in the same shade.

  From where I sat I could see the full length of the stairs.

  Seeing me she said, “Oh? I thought only the family would be here at this hour.”

  She meant hoped, not thought.

  “You look decent enough, Sophia,” Audrey drawled. “Come on down and take a pew, sweetie. What’s new?” She didn’t expect an answer.

  Aunt Sophia said, “I thought I might as well get into something comfortable.”

  She had intended to come on down, regardless. She floated down the remaining steps, if float can be used for such a small gray cat-faced female. At any rate her chiffons floated. I kept an eye on Don Quayle. He had risen, and there he was, that finished product, bowing Sophia to a seat as if they were dancing a minuet. His glance was attentive, perfectly mannered, his voice expertly modulated, his clothes without a sign of having been worn and sat in for hours. Only momentarily his eyes were out of focus when they rested, too long, on Caroline. She paid him not the least attention.

  Audrey noted this, gave a little twist of her head, stroked her stylish hairdo, and took out a cigarette. Quayle dived to light it, offered his gold case around again, got only headshakes, and, the women all being disposed of in this chair or that, resumed his place on the sofa between Audrey and Aunt Sophia.

  Sophia said, “I’m happy to tell you that your father is much better, Caroline.”

  “Yes. I’m so glad.”

  “But you must tell your Martin Kent to leave. Where have you been?”

  “We’ve had coffee. In the kitchen.”

  “I thought Mrs. Abbott went home. Where is her husband?” She wasn’t asking me, so nobody answered. I was pretty sure he was at the Hall of Justice, as they call police headquarters in San Francisco.

  Sophia’s voice had superb modulations. When she became vocal if she wished to impress, she was like a sparrow suddenly making like a nightingale.

  “Sophia,” Audrey said. “I’ve hung around this dump as long as I can take it.” She didn’t bother to cover a yawn, which must have hurt Sophia to the quick. “Don, do we cut out or don’t we?” Aunt Sophia lifted a plump hand. Audrey said, “Do we scram by the front door or do we have to sneak out back?”

  Sophia said, “I know how you children feel. You may go, of course. Caroline, as I said, there’s no sense in that young man of yours staying on. He excites William with all that medical talk. Please tell him to leave. If we need a real doctor, we will call one.”

  “In other words,” Audrey said, unfolding herself like a praying mantis as she prepared to stand up, “Sophia wants you to tell your weedy lover to get the hell out, Carrie.”

  “Oh, shut up!” Caroline said.

  Audrey said, to Quayle, “Prop me up, darling. I creak.” Don was already up. He took Audrey’s arm. She leaned against him. Sophia gave them a contented look. Sophia Quayle was oozing success, but I foresaw her going to work, in vain, on Audrey’s manners after she married Don.

  Lean, hungry-looking Audrey was a good five feet ten and Don was tall enough for her. That figured, too. Caroline snuggled in her chair, ignored Don Quayle, but he was supremely aware of her. A succulent beauty, Caroline.

  There was a slight thump somewhere on the stairs. Rona, on her way down, had sat down hard. She pulled herself up, and hanging onto the raili
ng, made her way on slowly.

  She looked ghastly. She was still wearing that tom silk dress. It was black with cabbage roses all over it. She was in her stocking feet.

  People talk about eyes like holes in a blanket. I’ve never seen holes in blankets that resembled eyes, and neither did hers. They were black as night without even a trace of the amber iris. Her face, aside from smeared lipstick, was dead-white. She looked raving mad.

  Aunt Sophia jumped up and moved behind the sofa. She needn’t have bothered. Audrey was Rona’s current target. Audrey didn’t stir. Don Quayle pushed her gently out of the way, also back of the sofa.

  “What can I do for you, Rona?” Quayle asked, coolly arrogant.

  The woman’s voice chilled my own spine. It was much hoarser than before.

  “You can get rid of that lousy woman.” Rona pointed at Audrey. “This is my house. I’m Mrs. Doctor Alby. You get out, Audrey. You, too, Sophy. Get out.”

  “This is shocking,” Sophia said. She kept the sofa as a barricade. “You’ve been drinking. Help Rona back to her room, Caroline.”

  “Drinking?” Rona said. Her voice was a rasping whisper. “You said it!” She coughed. “I’m stoned blind. How else could I get up the nerve to come down here and tell you off? You were not invited to this house, Sophy. You go pack your things and get out.”

  Audrey watched Quayle with something like amusement as he disdainfully took Rona by one arm and turned her toward the stairs.

  “Stop that!” Sophia commanded.

  “Somebody must take her upstairs, Sophia,” Quayle said, in just the right tone, one would think, but it wasn’t right for Rona. She swung on him and gave him a wallop on his left cheek. He took his hand from her arm and stroked his reddening face. Audrey laughed. Caroline squirmed unhappily and Sophia bravely marched around to Rona and said, “Go to your room or … or I’ll call the police.”

  Rona glared down at Sophia. “Oh, no, you won’t. If the police come around here again I have things to tell about you, Sophy. And don’t think I won’t. I’ve tried to be nice to you on account of Doctor but I’ve reached my limit. Don will not marry Audrey. I’ll kill them both first. Things are pretty nice for you, aren’t they, Audrey? With Lisa dead you’re worth twice as much in one fell swoop.”

  Audrey sat down, lighted her own cigarette, and said, “Just what is a fell swoop?”

  “Don’t lower yourself to speak to her, Audrey,” Sophia said. “Rona, go to your room!”

  Caroline stepped forward. “Rona, you don’t look well. I’ll go up with you.”

  “Don will go up with me.” Rona’s voice was almost gone. Her face was a curious red. “Don and me were just like that,” she announced, her whisper ghastly. “Till that … that snake Sophy broke us up.”

  Quayle’s nostrils quivered with irritation, and seeing it, Sophia said, “I’m Don’s mother. I’ve always tried to do my best for him, Audrey. This woman pursued and pursued him. The poor boy came to me for advice. I did my best.”

  “Ha, ha,” Rona croaked. “Even murder, Sophy? You did that? That’s what you came out here for, isn’t it? Why don’t you call in the police again? I’ll talk next time, no matter if it does kill Doctor. You spoiled my life. Now it’s my turn.”

  “Stop her!” Sophia gasped.

  “Don’t stop her,” Audrey drawled. “This is the best show I’ve seen in ages. It’s sensational.”

  Quayle said, “I’ll help you back upstairs, Rona.” He reached for her arm with obvious distaste.

  “Don’t do it,” Sophia cried frantically. “Don’t touch her, darling. Caroline, get that intern. Go at once. This person must be taken away. Out of this house.”

  “Really, Sophia,” Audrey said, with cold scorn. “Why don’t you grow up? You’re way far out. Rona wants Don to take her upstairs. There’s no law against that. If I don’t mind, why should you?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Honestly, Aunt Sophia,” Caroline put in. “Audrey’s right. Come on, Don. Between us we can manage. Oh, oh,” she finished, for as they took Rona’s arms she sagged in a heap to the floor.

  Rona started laughing hysterically. She talked in snatches.

  “Stoned … Smothered herself? Ha, ha! … That poor little thing … murdered … money.”

  “How disgusting!” Sophia said.

  “It could be worse,” Audrey said. “At least she didn’t barf. What do we do now?”

  “You get a doctor,” I said, as if they didn’t know. I was watching the woman on the floor. She needed to barf, as Audrey put it. The amazing eyes were closed. She was breathing in a snatchy way. Caroline was running upstairs saying she would bring Martin. Aunt Sophia wrung her plump hands, her diamonds blinking and winking like the brilliants in her spectacles frames.

  The elevator ran almost without a sound. Its door slid back and Dr. Alby stepped out as Martin came leaping down the stairs. The doctor was in pajamas and a robe. He didn’t seem surprised when he lifted Rona’s eyelids, and he said to Martin, “It’s what I told you. Take her up in the elevator. Better hurry. Take her into one of the second-floor bathrooms. You know what to do.” Quayle helped Martin move Rona into the elevator. Now he appeared solicitous. As the elevator moved up he ran upstairs.

  “See if there is any mustard in the kitchen here,” Dr. Alby said, bringing the elevator back down after it reached the second floor and Martin had helped Rona out.

  “What’s wrong with her, William?” Sophia asked. The doctor closed the elevator door without answering.

  Audrey sat back and laughed.

  “Really,” Aunt Sophia said, petulantly. “What’s funny?”

  “You,” Audrey said. “You are certainly way far out. You’re positively eerie. You’re a way far back, too, Aunt Sophia. I could die laughing at you.”

  Carrie ran past with a box of dry mustard. She passed Quayle coming down the stairs. Rona was being sick, he said. He was mopping his brow. He couldn’t stand unpleasantness. For heaven’s sake, Sophia cried, was she being sick in a bathroom she, Sophia, had to use? Disgusting.

  “Oh, dry up,” Quayle said. “They took her into the doctor’s bath. If you could take a real look at yourself just once in your life, if you realized how horrible you are, Sophia …”

  “Don, darling,” Sophia cooed. “Please. You’re upset. I realize that, darling.”

  “You’ve never realized anything in your life,” Don shouted. On the sofa, Audrey laughed.

  Nine

  Dr. Alby came down again in a few minutes. He said Rona would be all right and asked Caroline if she would help Martin take her to her own room on the third floor. Carrie asked if she shouldn’t open that third-floor bathroom for Rona to use. The doctor said he didn’t see why not, but to keep Lisa’s room locked, since he had told the police this would be done. It seemed stretching a point but he said then, “I should like you and Caroline to spend the night here, Audrey, and that means Rona’s using her own room and bath so that you two can have the other guest room. There are twin beds.”

  “No, thank you, Dad,” Audrey said. “I’d brood, in this house. Don will take me home.”

  “I’m asking you specially, Audrey.”

  “No,” Audrey said.

  The doctor had taken the straight chair near the fireless fireplace. He lifted his brows and said, “I had a special reason for asking you to stay, Audrey.” He went on. “Martin was in my room with me when Rona came down from the third floor. We overheard the whole thing. I spoke to Martin about her case. He is already a fine doctor. He is staying the night. We may need him.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t need me,” Audrey said. “I’d be way out if anybody was sick. Carrie’s different. Anyway, if Martin’s here she’ll want to stay, Dad. I don’t.”

  The doctor said to Quayle, “I don’t suppose you’ve had any experience with illness?”

  “No, no, sir. None at all.”

  “Then you don’t know what ailed Rona just now?”

 
“No. She said she’d had too much to drink. I thought it might be true.”

  “It’s a great relief to us all to have her in her own room,” Sophia said. “You’re looking better this evening, William. I mean, the passing of that poor child …”

  “Is a blessing?” Dr. Alby asked drily.

  Sophia missed the irony. “Oh, I’m so glad you realize that, William. You seemed so fond of her!”

  The doctor said, “If I may say so without hurting any feelings, I was fonder of her than of my other daughters. Perhaps because she was absolutely dependent on me, you see, specially after her mother died. I was her whole family when you girls were away. That doesn’t mean that her death is not a blessing, for her and for all of us. In no time at all she would have been a grown woman with an infantile brain. We all know that. There was no hope for her. There never was. And I’ve seen death a great many times and I daresay this death was not easy, I’m sure none is, but I think this was as painless for Lisa as any.”

  Caroline had come down again. Tears stood in her eyes. Audrey kept her eyes downcast and stopped smoking. Quayle was standing now, near the entrance from the hall, quietly attentive.

  Aunt Sophia dabbed behind her sparkling specs and said, “William, dear, you know you have all our sympathy.”

  Dr. Alby let that pass. He said, “She was lucky. She never knew she was different from other little girls. But that would have come. She was a sweet, loving child. Even her sweetness would have been against her later, because it would have been tiresome. She was saved pain, confusion, and the anguish of living in that lost world which is always eventually the world of the mentally retarded.” He paused. “There’s a curious thing about accidents. You take precautions. I had special stops put on the third-floor windows for fear she would open one too wide and fall out. I was frightened of those third-floor stairs, but Lisa was always sure-footed. She was ten years old. She had exceptional physical agility, good vision and hearing. We were very careful not to leave anything dangerous about. I kept my medicines locked up. But she knew where the keys were. I daresay she knew the cough medicine tasted good. She had seen me take it. It is a pretty color. I am to blame, in any case. I am to blame.”