Silent Night (17 page)

•
When did you start your writing career?

“After I got married, I signed up for a writing course at New York University. There, I got advice from a professor which has always served me well. He said, ‘Write about
what you know. Take a dramatic incident with which you are familiar and go with it.' I thought of my experience on the last flight to Czechoslovakia and gave my imagination free rein. ‘Suppose,' I reflected, ‘the stewardess finds an eighteen-year-old member of the Czech underground hiding on the plane as it is about to leave.' The story was called ‘Stowaway.' It took six years and forty rejection slips before I sold it to
Extension
magazine in 1956 for a hundred dollars. I framed that first letter of acceptance.”

•
You were widowed at an early age, with five young children. Did that discourage you from pursuing
your goal?

“No, on the contrary. To help fill the gap, I decided to concentrate on writing. My children ranged in age from thirteen down to five. Because of his heart condition, Warren Clark wasn't insurable, so I had to work. Just a few hours before he died of a heart attack, I had called a friend who did radio script writing. She had often asked me to join her company in writing for radio and I began writing radio shows. For fourteen years, I supported my family writing these programs. The series consisted of five four-minute programs a week, syndicated on five hundred stations and hosted by celebrities such as Betsy Palmer, Hugh Downs, Bill Cullen, Lee Meriwether and Betty White. But I knew that writing radio scripts wasn't enough. I wanted to write books.”

•
What was your first book?

“A biographical novel about George Washington,
Aspire to the Heavens
, based on a radio series I was then writing called ‘Portrait of a Patriot,' vignettes about presidents. It was a commercial disaster and remaindered as it came off the press. But it showed that I could write a book and get it published.”

•
How did you find time to write books while raising
five children and holding a job?

“When my children were young, I used to get up at five and write at the kitchen table until seven, when I had to get them ready for school. For me, writing is a need. It's the degree of yearning that separates the real writer from the ‘would-be's.' Those who say ‘I'll write when I have time, when the kids are grown up or when I have a quiet place to work' will probably never do it.”

•
When do you write now?

“I still love to work early in the morning, but get up a little later, at 6 A.M. I don't seek seclusion. Having an active, lively family around keeps my ears sharpened.”

•
What are your children doing at present?

“My daughter Carol is the author of three suspense novels,
Decked, Snagged
and
Iced
, published by Warner Books. My daughter Marilyn is a superior court judge and my daughter Patty is an executive assistant at the Mercantile Exchange. My son Warren, a lawyer, is a municipal court judge; my son David is president of
Celebrity Radio
, producing syndicated programs. I have six grandchildren.”

•
What made you turn to the field of mystery and
suspense?

“I decided to write a book that would, hopefully, outsell
Aspire to the Heavens
. One of the best clues about what to write is what one likes to read. I decided to see if I could write a suspense novel. It was like a prospector stumbling on a vein of gold. I wrote
Where
Are the Children?
—my first bestseller and a turning point in my life and career.”

•
Your background is Irish. How did that influence
your writing?

“The Irish are, by nature, storytellers. All my grandparents were born in Ireland, as was my father. At family gatherings, my mother, aunts and great-aunts and cousins would sit around the table and stories flowed. Nothing was ever said simply. When one cousin was dating a fellow the family didn't approve of, one of the old girls sighed, ‘Many a man was lost at sea the night that one was born.' There were sad stories and glad stories, and I sat at the table, drinking them all in. Many of that clan have been prototypes for characters in my books.”

•
Which of your novels have been made into films?

“Two of my novels were feature films:
A Stranger
Is Watching
, produced by MGM, and
Where Are the Children?
, released by Rastar Films through Columbia Pictures. I was a local extra in
Where Are the Children?
Blink, and you'll miss me. Three others were CBS television films:
The Cradle Will Fall, Stillwatch
and
Remember Me
, in which I make a brief appearance playing myself. The television film based on my novel,
A Cry in the Night
, released by Rysher Distribution, starred my daughter Carol Higgins Clark and Perry King. It was produced by Telescene in Canada and I went to the set in Montreal and ended up with a one-line part. I'm the lady coming out of church and greeting the priest; my friends tell me that's type-casting!”

•
How do you feel about film adaptations of your
work?

“When you sell a book for television or for a feature film, you are in essence giving up your child for adoption. You wish it well, but lose control. It's a different medium, and there is no way anyone can take your book and reproduce it exactly as you wrote it. It's always fun to watch something you have written turned into a film. I can't spend much time
on the sets, but I love to go at least for a few days and be part of it. Now that I am establishing myself as a walk-on like Alfred Hitchcock, it's even more fun.”

•
How do you feel about having your stories on audio cassette?

“The first time I heard one of my own books on audio, I was listening to it on the tape player in my car and I was so absorbed that I went through a stop sign. I enjoy hearing books—not only my own but other authors'—on audio. On my almost-daily drive to and from New Jersey and the five-hour drive to my summer house in Cape Cod, it is wonderful to be able to hear a book I didn't have a chance to read. Listening to books on audio brings back early memories of listening to the radio. When I was a child, I was asthmatic and would lose as many as forty days a year from school. On those long days, I listened to radio dramas and felt fascinated by the people in them. I am very happy that my work is available on audio, giving people the choice of reading or hearing my books.”

•
You introduce us to widely differing worlds in your writings. How do you achieve the sense of authenticity that characterizes your novels?

“New settings provide a springboard for fresh and different characters. Backgrounds for my novels include social trends, such as the personal ads phenomenon in
Loves Music, Loves to Dance
, in-vitro fertilization in
I'll Be Seeing You
, multiple personality in
All Around the Town
, plastic surgery in
Let Me Call
You Sweetheart
, financial exploitation of the elderly in
Moonlight Becomes You
. People leading hidden lives under the government security program will be the subject of my next novel,
Pretend You Don't See Her
. For each of my novels, I do extensive research.”

•
You are known as “The Queen of Suspense.” What
do you consider the essence of your talent?

“Being a storyteller. Isaac Bashevis Singer, who was a dedicated suspense reader, made a simple but profound observation on receiving the Mystery Writers of America award as Mystery Reader of the Year. He said that a writer must think of himself or herself primarily as a storyteller. Every book or story should figuratively begin with the words ‘once upon a time.' It is true now as it was in the long-ago days of wandering minstrels, that when these words are uttered, the room becomes quiet, everyone draws closer to the fire, and the magic begins.”

•
Do you enjoy terrifying people?

“Absolutely. I consider it a compliment when I'm told that someone stopped reading my book because he or she was alone in the house.”

•
Could you visualize a life of leisure?

“No—never. Somebody once said, If you want to be happy for a year, win the lottery; if you want to be happy for a lifetime, love what you do. That's the way it is for me—I love to spin yarns.”

Pocket Books Proudly Presents

AMERICA'S QUEEN
OF SUSPENSE

MARY HIGGINS CLARK

You Belong to Me

He had played this same game before and had anticipated this time out it would be something of a letdown. It came as a pleasant surprise then to find that it gave him even more of a thrill.

He had boarded the ship in Perth, Australia, only yesterday, planning to sail as far as Kobe, but he had found her immediately, so the extra ports would not be necessary. She had been seated at a window table in the liner's paneled dining room, a discreetly elegant space typical of the
Gabrielle
. The luxury cruise ship was the perfect size for his purposes, and in fact he always traveled on smaller ships, always chose a segment of a deluxe world tour.

He was cautious by nature, although in truth there was little likelihood of his being recognized by previous shipmates. He had become a master at altering his appearance, a talent he had discovered during his college drama club fling at acting.

As he studied Regina Clausen, he decided that she could use a makeover. She was one of those fortyish women who could have been quite attractive if she only knew how to dress, how to present herself. She was wearing an expensive-looking ice-blue dinner suit that would have been stunning
on a blonde, but it did nothing for her very pale complexion, making her look washed out and wan. And her light brown hair, her natural and not unflattering color, was so stiffly set that even from across the wide room it seemed to age her, and even to date her, as though she were a suburban matron from the fifties.

Of course he knew who she was. He had seen Clausen in action at a stockholders' meeting only a few months ago, and he had also watched her on CNBC in her capacity as a stock research analyst. Certainly in those venues she had come across as forceful and very sure of herself.

That was why, when he had spotted her sitting wistfully and alone at the table, and later had witnessed her tremulous, almost girlish pleasure when one of the male hosts asked her to dance, he knew right away how easy it was going to be.

He raised his glass, and with the faintest movement in her direction, offered a silent toast.

Your prayers have been answered, Regina
, he promised.
From now on, you belong to me
.

Barring a blizzard or something bordering on a hurricane, Dr. Susan Chandler walked to work from her brownstone apartment in Greenwich Village to her office in the turn-of-the-century building in SoHo. A clinical psychologist, she had a thriving private practice and at the same time had established something of a public persona as host of a popular radio program,
Ask Dr. Susan
, that aired each weekday.

The early morning air on this October day was crisp and breezy, and she was glad she had opted for a long-sleeved, turtleneck sweater under her suit jacket.

Her shoulder-length dark blond hair, still damp from the shower, was windblown, causing her to regret not wearing a scarf. She remembered her grandmother's long-ago admonishment, “Don't ever go out with a wet head; you'll catch your death of cold,” then realized that she seemed to think about Gran Susie a lot these days. But then, her grandmother had been raised in Greenwich Village, and Susan sometimes wondered if her spirit wasn't hovering nearby.

She stopped for a light at the corner of Mercer and Houston. It was only seven-thirty, and the streets weren't
crowded yet. In another hour they would be teeming with Monday morning, back-to-work New Yorkers.

Thank God the weekend's over, Susan said to herself fervently. She had spent most of Saturday and Sunday in Rye with her mother, who had been in low spirits—understandably so, Susan thought, since Sunday would have been her fortieth wedding anniversary. Then, not helping the general situation, Susan had had an unfortunate encounter with her older sister, Dee, who was visiting from California.

Sunday afternoon, before coming back to the city, she had made a courtesy call to her father's palatial home in nearby Bedford Hills, where he and his second wife, Binky, were throwing a cocktail party. Susan suspected that the timing of the party was Binky's doing. “We had our first date four years ago today,” she had gushed.

I dearly love both my parents, Susan thought as she reached her office building, but there are times when I want to tell them to please, grow up.

Susan was usually the first to arrive on the top floor, but as she passed the law offices of her old friend and mentor, Nedda Harding, she was startled to see that the lights in the reception area and hallway were already on. She knew Nedda had to be the early bird.

She shook her head ruefully as she opened the outer door—which should have been locked—walked down the hallway past the still-dark offices of Nedda's junior partners and clerks, then stopped at the open door leading to Nedda's office, and smiled. As usual, Nedda was concentrating so intensely that she was not even aware that Susan was standing there.

Nedda was frozen in her usual work pose, her left elbow on the desk, forehead resting on her palm, and her right hand poised to turn the pages of the thick file that was
spread out before her. Nedda's short-clipped silver hair was already rumpled, her half glasses were slipping down her nose, and her solid body gave the impression of being ready to leap up and run. One of the most respected defense attorneys in New York, her somewhat grandmotherly appearance offered little indication of the cleverness and aggressive energy she brought to her work, never more apparent than when she cross-examined a witness in court.