Forever (26 page)

Stephanie pulled away from him. 'But Pham
didn't!' she cried wretchedly.

'No,' he said quietly, 'that he did
not.'

Stephanie's eyes became flat round mirrors.
'I want the bastards who killed Grandpa and Pham!' she whispered.
'I want those murderers!'

'Darling, darling Stephanie.' Head tilted,
Sammy looked at her sorrowfully. 'Why do you insist it had to have
been a bomb? It could very well have been an accident. Yes, an
accident . . . '

She shook her head. 'I'm telling you, it
wasn't! Her earnest young face was haunted, stubborn.

'But how can you be so sure?'

She drew a deep breath. 'Because Grandpa
told me why he was murdered!'

'He - what? Sammy stared at her.

She nodded. 'He told me the motive,' she
insisted. When he remained silent, she said: 'His notes? When I
went through them?'

'Yes?' he asked. 'And what did you
find?'

'Well, they . . . they explained a lot,
Uncle Sammy. You see, he'd already finished researching the
Schneider biography, and was nearly done with the second draft of
the manuscript when he discovered he'd only told half the
story.'

He frowned thoughtfully. 'You know, Girlie .
. . ' he said slowly. 'Come to think of it, the last time he and I
spoke he . . . he did say he'd uncovered something. He didn't
disagree when I said that it was no doubt earth-shaking.'

'And it is, too,' she said softly. 'Because
you see, Uncle Sammy, he discovered that Lili Schneider isn't
dead.'

'You can't possibly mean -'

'I do, Uncle Sammy!' Her voice was excited.
'That's exactly what I'm saying! Lili Schneider is very much alive
and breathing!'

'But... the funeral! The body! If Lili isn't
buried in that crypt, then who is?'

'That,' said Stephanie with quiet
conviction, 'is just one mystery among many that I intend to clear
up.'

'And where will your investigation take
you?'

'Wherever it dictates. I'm going to start at
the beginning and work my way forward through time.' Her voice
suddenly took on a steely resolve. 'And no one had better try and
stop me,' she added, setting her determined chin firmly. 'And when
I say no one, I mean no one.''

Near West Cornwall, Connecticut

They were still at it long after dark.
Stephanie had Spagoed-up two frozen plain Mama Celeste pizzas with
olive oil, sliced red onion, smoked salmon, sour cream, fresh dill,
and caviar - all of which Sammy had stocked the refrigerator with
earlier in the week, and which she whipped up in the kitchenette.
She'd also rustled up a bottle of '82 Belair Lussac which went down
like liquid velvet.

'Uncle Sammy, would you believe at this
point in time I know more about Lili Schneider than I know about
you?' she asked, cutting a bite-sized portion of pizza by
candlelight. 'I know it sounds strange, but it's the truth.'

'In that case, why don't you fill me in on
what you've learned? Hm?'

'All right.' Stephanie took a sip of wine.
'Lili Theresa Bielfeld was born May 22, 1910 in Neunkirchen, a
small Austro- Hungarian town which is now part of Austria. She was
the second of three sisters. The eldest, Louisette Erzebeth
Bielfeld was born ten months earlier; the third, Liselotte
Elizabeth Bielfeld, was born a year later. Their father, Gerhard
Franz Bielfeld, was a railroad engineer; their mother, Valerie, nee
Szoke, was from Budapest, and was an amateur pianist and
hausfrau
.'

She paused a moment, not knowing whether to
continue.

Sammy said, 'Go on.'

'Well, apparently the three births brought
with them both a tragedy and a blessing. The tragedy came in the
form of Liselotte's illness, which manifested itself early on.'

'Which was?'

'Geromorphism. It's a horrible condition
which results in premature decrepitude and senility. As a child of
five, she already must have looked middle-aged. At fifteen, she
probably looked like a wizened old woman - with the mind and body
to match.' Stephanie stared at Sammy. 'Do you have any idea of what
it must have been like to see a younger sister wasting away and
turning into an old woman?'

'No, I don't. But about the blessing you
mentioned?'

'Lili's talent, which also surfaced at an
early age. When she was five, her mother arranged for her to start
taking singing lessons - not that Neunkirchen had anything more to
offer than a smalltown music teacher. Anyway, the lessons continued
for two years, as did Liselotte's frequent trips to specialists in
Vienna and Budapest and stays at various spas - not that any of it
helped. There's still no cure for geromorphism today. Then, when
the sisters were five, six, and seven, their father died from
complications arising from an ulcer operation. To make ends meet,
the piano had to be sold and the singing lessons stopped - along
with Liselotte's visits to the specialists and spas.'

Stephanie looked at Sammy for
confirmation.

'Um,' he said noncommittally. 1

'Finally, when things got really bad, their
mother decided to move back to her native Budapest, where she and
the girls shared a five-room cold-water flat with her brother and
his family of six. An astute move, it turned out, since Budapest
had more than its share of spas and doctors - and even more so
because it was the brother who truly recognised Lili's voice for
the exceptional instrument that it was. In fact, he took it upon
himself to find a second job so that Lili could be provided with
the best vocal coach Budapest had to offer.

'The city being one of Austria-Hungary's two
great cultural centres, it's not surprising that Lili's tutor
turned out to be none other than the internationally renowned and
very, very expensive Madame Milena Szekely. Between Liselotte's
medical bills and Lili's lessons, it must have cost the poor uncle
everything he could lay his hands on - and more. The doctors
weren't known for their charity, nor was Madame Szekely. "If you
want the lessons badly enough, you will somehow scrape up the
money" was her motto. Apparently, Lili's uncle did, and thus Madame
Szekely, a human monster of a perfectionist, became the single
biggest influence in young Lili's life.'

Sammy nodded slowly, signifying both
agreement and encouragement that Stephanie continue.

'As time passed,' she went on, 'Liselotte
became older and more shrivelled-looking while, ironically, Lili
and Louisette turned into great beauties. Everywhere the two of
them went, heads turned. Louisette was the more classically
beautiful, but only Lili was blessed - or cursed, depending upon
which way you want to look at it - with The Voice, the consensus
being that Louisette was absolutely tone-deaf.' Stephanie looked at
Sammy. She asked, 'Still want me to continue?'

'By all means.' He motioned with his fork,
on which he had speared another bite of pizza.

'Iin that case,' she said, pushing back her
chair and getting to her feet, 'I'll need to wet my whistle with
something other than wine. It's dehydrating me. And after the
solitude of the last week, my vocal cords aren't quite up to
snuff.' She looked down at him. 'Can I get you something else while
I'm up?'

'Well, maybe a hair more of that excellent
Chateau Belair Lussac?'

'I'll go fetch another one.' She smiled and
went off, quickly returning with a bottle and a corkscrew for him
and a glass of club soda with ice for herself. Then she sat back
down and there was a plop as Sammy pulled the cork.

'Ah,' he said, swirling his replenished
glass under his nose and inhaling ostentatiously. 'Ambrosia.' He
took a sip. 'Now then,' he said, putting the glass down and
smacking his lips. 'Why don't you go on with Lili.'

'Yes, well, sometime in 1925, Madame Szekely
came to the conclusion that her star pupil really did have the
stuff of which world-class divas were made. She decided that Lili
should devote - "sacrifice", I believe the old dragon liked to call
it - her life to music. Ergo, Madame Szekely pulled the appropriate
strings and our Lili was accepted by Budapest's Franz Liszt
Academy, one of the finest, and, at the time, probably most
prestigious music schools in the world.'

'And?' Sammy prompted her.

'And . . . ' Stephanie took another quick
sip of soda. ' . . . She studied there under various teachers for
several years - and naturally with Madame S, who wasn't about to
relinquish her best paying student, on the side. Then, in 1927, it
seems our Lili finally got fed up with having dragon breath
constantly puffed down her neck. Going behind her teacher's back,
she auditioned for, and was accepted by, the chorus of the Budapest
State Opera.

'Not surprisingly, Madame S was apoplectic.
She kept screaming at Lili that it was too soon, that she wasn't
ready yet. Things like that. But Lili was stage-struck - and
intractable. Having tasted freedom, she was determined never to be
shackled again. Teacher and pupil parted acrimoniously, and within
the year, besides singing supporting roles, Lili became the leading
understudy for resident sopranos. Hers was definitely a star on the
rise.'

Stephanie paused and frowned deeply.

'Here things get rather vague. I've been
over both drafts of the manuscript and all the research material
time and again, but dammit! Try as I might, I still haven't managed
to piece together exactly what happened!'

'Then tell me what you do know,' Sammy
suggested.

'All right. But it's just bits and pieces,'
she warned, 'and I'm whistling in the dark. I was thinking that
Lili perhaps showed too much talent, or maybe was a touch too
aggressive and ambitious. She could have upstaged a diva. Who
knows?' Stephanie shrugged and brooded. 'The possibilities are
endless when you start thinking about it. I mean, there's a reason
prima donnas are called prima donnas - right?'

Sammy made noises of agreement.

'All I do know is that I've been through
everything with a fine-tooth comb, and there's nothing, absolutely
nothing, to suggest what might have happened. But it must have been
a real doozie. Why else would a promising young starlet of the
Budapest State Opera suddenly be booted out, finding herself
persona non grata? Hmm?'

'And that's all you've got?' Sammy asked
neutrally.

'That's all.' She nodded in the flicking
candlelight. 'Why?' she asked slowly, cocking her head to one side.
'Do you know something I don't know?'

He said, 'I'll tell you what I know later.
Just continue, Girlie. You're doing splendidly.' He smiled. 'Really
you are.'

'If you say so.' She gave him an oblique
look and broke off a little piece of pizza crust and popped it into
her mouth. She chewed it reflectively and patted her lips
fastidiously with her napkin. 'Anyway,' she said, once she'd
swallowed, 'the next events are well documented, and occurred a
scant week later. That was when Lili's mother, her ill sister,
Lisolette, her uncle, and his entire family died in a train
derailment when the coach they were riding in jumped the tracks and
plunged into the Danube.'

'Tragic,' Sammy said, nodding his head. 'But
at least there was one small mercy. For poor Liselotte, the
suffering was over.'

'Yes. Luckily for Lili and Louisette,
though, neither of them was on that train. Louisette had come down
with the flu, and Lili'd insisted upon staying at home with her.
Lucky on the one hand, but unlucky on the other. They escaped
almost certain death, but their safety net - the uncle - was dead.
Suddenly on their own, they found themselves unemployed - and
without a living relative or friend in the world.'

'They did have it rough, those two,' Sammy
said.

She cut another tiny bite of pizza and
nibbled it off the fork. 'You know,' she said, 'Lili must have
known her chances of being rehired by the opera were slim. That's
probably why she and Louisette lost no time packing their bags,
leaving Budapest, and popping up in Vienna.'

'Where, unfortunately, Lili's reputation
must have preceded her, since the Wiener Staatsoper had extremely
close ties to Budapest's,' Sammy said, nodding.

Stephanie drank some more soda. 'Anyway, the
Bielfeld sisters continued on to Berlin, where times proved tough.
Without a sponsor or references, Lili wasn't even able to get an
audition for the Berliner Staatsoper. So, until an opportunity
presented itself, and so she could continue the expensive vocal
coaching her voice required, both girls moved in with, and worked
for, an "aunt".'

'An aunt?' said Sammy. 'Didn't you just get
through telling me they didn't have any living relatives?'

'Yes, Uncle Sammy. But for "aunt", read
"madam". And for "work", read "prostitution".'

'Prostitution!' Sammy exclaimed. 'Lili? Let
me get this straight, Girlie.' He looked at Stephanie with
inquisitive narrowed eyes. 'You're sure? What I mean is, there's a
difference between mistresses and prostitutes -'

'For God's sake. Uncle Sammy! I know the
difference, and so did Grandpa. Trust me, we're talking bordello -
cat house - whorehouse - house of ill repute here.'

'Can you back that up with concrete
evidence?'

'Oh, most definitely yes.' Stephanie nodded
again. 'I've got a Xerox copy of an old group photo of the
brothel's girls. The original was destroyed in the explosion, but
even in the photocopy there's no mistaking Lili and Louisette. It's
in one of those stacks over by the bed. Want to see it?'

'I'll look at it later. Now do continue,
Girlie! Quite frankly, some of this is news to me. I find it
fascinating!'

Stephanie smiled. 'So do I. Anyway, let me
see. Where was I?' She picked at a piece of pizza crust.

'Berlin,' Sammy prompted.

'Right. Berlin.' She nibbled on the bit of
crust. 'It took a while, but sacrificing their bodies to pay for
Lili's vocal coach finally paid off. Her new teacher helped her
arrange an audition with the Berliner Staatsoper, and she was hired
on the spot. From then on, things happened in quick succession.
Barely a few months went by before - bingo! She got her Big Break.
The year was 1932 and the operetta was - what else - that
ever-popular pastiche, Der Rosenkavalier. What happened is your
typical corny success story. On opening night, the leading soprano
had an accident on her way to the theatre, and her understudy, in
this case Lili, had to go on in her stead. Needless to say, she
wowed 'em with a drop-dead performance, got a thirty-minute
standing ovation, and a star was born. Hollywood couldn't have
plotted it better.'