I've Got You Under My Skin (28 page)

87

A
lison and Rod lay side by side, their hands clutched under the light covers.

“I did do it,” Alison said. “I know I was in Betsy’s room, and I was in the closet watching.”

“Watching what?” Rod asked quickly.

“Someone holding the pillow over Betsy’s face. But Rod, it wasn’t someone, it was me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I know it’s true, Rod. I know it’s true.”

“You don’t know it’s true. Stop saying that.”

“Rod, I’m going to go to prison.”

“No, you’re not. And for one reason: I couldn’t live without you.”

Alison stared into the darkness and came to realize the truth that anger had hidden from her. She said, “Rod, I know that you have always felt that I married you so that you could send me to medical school. I may have believed that myself. But you weren’t the only one who fell in love the first day of kindergarten. I did, too. It’s a terrible thing, but I know I have wasted twenty years hating Betsy Powell.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “If only I had had the satisfaction of knowing what I was doing when I killed her.”

88

C
laire sat on the couch in her bedroom, making no attempt to sleep.

So he actually did love my mother, she thought. From the time he started coming into my room less than a month after we moved in here, I allowed it for her sake. I could see that she was so happy, and I wanted to keep her that way. I was sure that if I told her, she’d move out of here, and then where would we be?

Back in a tiny apartment. She dated men along the way, looking for what Robert Powell could give her. We were so close when I was little. I felt I owed it to her. It was my big secret, making that sacrifice for my mother. Counting every night he didn’t come near me as a blessing. Then I overheard them talking. He was telling her about the night before, and she was pleased I was so responsive.

Damn her, damn her, damn her.

I smothered her in my mind from the time I was thirteen. If I was the one who did it that final night and somebody saw me and is saying so now, so be it, so be it.

89

N
ina did not attempt to go to bed. Instead she sat, legs crossed, replaying in her mind the events of the day. Was it possible that her mother had carried out her threat? She’s a good actress, Nina thought, and who wouldn’t believe her?

I didn’t know that Robert Powell was so bulldozed by Betsy that he didn’t see her for what she was. Or maybe he
did
see her for what she was and found it thrilling.

If Rob has been playing up to my mother these couple of days, she’s obviously been fool enough to fall for it. If she’s said I confessed to killing Betsy, it’s impossible for me. And when Rob shows her the door tomorrow, she can go straight to the police chief to claim the reward. What, if anything, can I do about it?

90

A
s the last light went out in the house, Bruno got out of the car. He had given Timmy a sleeping pill and now had him slung over his shoulder. Carefully he climbed over the fence, moving slowly to be sure not to disturb him. He carried him into the pool house and opened the door of the utility room. He laid him on the pile of blankets he had prepared for him and loosely tied his hands and feet.

Timmy stirred and murmured a protest when Bruno tied a relaxed gag around his mouth, then fell back into a deep sleep.

Bruno knew he had to be picked up tomorrow morning by the landscaper’s truck. There would be no explanation for him not being there. But the kid should be okay until I get back, he thought. Even if he wakes up, he can’t get out and he can’t pull the gag off. His hands are tied behind him.

Now that the end was near, he knew that he was not only deadly calm, but would
stay
deadly calm. He looked down at Timmy’s sleeping face. There was enough light from the full moon that he could see it clearly. “You would’ve looked just like your daddy someday,” he said, “and your mommy is right in that house and doesn’t know you’re here. Wait till she finds out you’re missing.”

He knew he should leave but could not resist reaching into his pocket and taking out a tiny case. He opened it and took out shiny bright blue lenses and put them in his eyes. He had worn them
that day because they would stand out just in case anyone got close enough to describe him. He remembered how he had heard Timmy’s wail five years ago:
“Blue Eyes shot my daddy.”

Yes, I did, he thought. Yes, I did.

He took out the lenses, saving them for tomorrow.

91

L
eo Farley could not sleep. The cop in him was sending him a warning. He tried to brush it off.

Laurie is okay, he reminded himself. I’m glad Alex Buckley is in that house. It’s obvious that he likes Laurie, but more important, he knows she’s facing a potentially explosive situation tonight with that bunch in the same house.

Timmy sounds great, and I’ll see him Sunday. Then why in hell am I so sure that something is seriously wrong? Maybe it’s just all these heart monitors on me. They’d drive anyone crazy.

The nurse had left a sleeping pill on his night table. “It’s not strong, Commissioner,” she had told him, “but it will take the edge off and let you get some sleep.”

Leo reached for it, then threw it back on the table. I don’t want to wake up half-groggy, he thought angrily.

And anyhow, I know it won’t help me go to sleep.

92

A
t three o’clock in the morning, Jane got quietly out of bed, opened the door of her room, and padded along until she reached the room where Muriel Craig was sleeping.

Her noisy snoring was sufficient proof that she was under the influence of excess liquid refreshment. Jane tiptoed over to the bed, bent over, and raised the pillow she was holding. Then, with a sudden quick movement, she jammed it over Muriel’s face and clasped it down.

The snoring stopped with an abrupt gagging sound. The strong hands of her attacker held the pillow like a vise. Muriel began to gasp for breath.

Her hands flew up and she tried to push the pillow away. “Don’t bother,” someone whispered.

Any remnant of the fog in her brain disappeared.

I don’t want to die, Muriel thought. I don’t want to die.

Her long fingernails dug deep into the back of her assailant’s hands, and for a moment their grip loosened. Muriel pushed away the pillow and screamed. But then the pillow came back even more forcefully over her face. “You didn’t think I’d let you have him,” Jane hissed, her voice ragged and her tone vicious as she again clasped the pillow tightly over Muriel’s face. “Maybe they know I killed Betsy, but you won’t get a chance at him.
He’s mine. He’s mine.
”

Throughout the second floor, everyone heard the scream and felt utter disbelief.

Alex arrived first, wrestling with Jane and throwing her to the floor. As he turned on the light, he saw that Muriel’s face was blue. She was not breathing. He pulled her out of the bed, laid her on the floor, and began CPR.

As Robert Powell ran down the hall, Rod and the four graduates came rushing from the other direction. Wild-eyed Jane looked from one to the other of them and began to flee, still clutching the pillow.

“You?” Powell shouted and began to follow her. “It was
you
?”

Stumbling and gasping, Jane ran down the stairs and through the kitchen. Shoving the patio door aside, she ran into the darkness, not knowing where to go. She was beside the pool when Robert Powell grabbed her.

“It was you,” he said. “All this time it was
you
? For twenty years I have seen you every day and never suspected for one minute that you killed my Betsy.”

“I love you, Rob,” she moaned. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You can’t swim, can you? You’re afraid of water, aren’t you?” With a sudden motion, he shoved her into the pool, then buried her frantic pleas for help by shouting: “Jane, Jane, don’t be afraid, we’ll help you, Jane, we’ll help you. Where are you?”

When he was sure that she was sinking, he continued running past the pool house and down the driveway until, exhausted, he sank onto the ground. That was where he was found when a squad car came roaring around the driveway. A policeman knelt beside him. “It’s all right, Mr. Powell, it’s all right. Do you know which way she went?”

“No.” Robert Powell’s breathing was labored, his complexion ghastly white. Just then the outdoor lights burst on, and every cor
ner of the grounds became visible. “Maybe the pool house,” he breathed. “Maybe she’s hiding in there.”

Sirens screaming, other squad cars began racing down the driveway. Ed Penn was in one of them.

“Look in the pool house,” the policeman with Powell shouted.

One of the officers raced to the door of the pool house and was pushing it open when another cop shouted, “She’s down here.”

He was standing by the pool looking down. Jane, faceup, was lying at the bottom. Her eyes were open and her fists were closed as if she were still grasping the pillow. The officer dove into the pool and struggled to bring her to the surface. The other officers helped him drag her out of the pool and they positioned her on the ground. They pumped her chest and applied CPR. After several minutes they stopped their futile attempt to revive her.

•   •   •

Inside, Alex had managed to get Muriel’s heart beating. The graduates and Rod were standing motionless in the room. As Muriel fought her way back to consciousness, she moaned, “Rob, Rob.”

Nina’s hysterical laughter could be heard through the house.