The House That Jack Built (33 page)

    'I didn't say Gaby. I said Pepper.'

    'You distinctly said Gaby.'

    'Well, for Christ's sake, Effie. Pepper, Gaby, whatever. But it wasn't me. I didn't know anything about it till Pepper got up. She said, "Effie's here - she's seen us", and then I was back to being me.'

    Effie drained her glass. 'Then you were back to being you?' she mimicked. 'You must think that I'm sceptically challenged.'

    'I swear it. It's true. I really believe that I was Jack Belias.'

    'You mean that your hippie mistress has invented some hotch-potch story about psychic disturbances to get you off the hook? Listen to me, Craig, I'm talking to my lawyer, and that's all I have to say to you, except that you'd better find someplace else to stay. There's probably an empty bed at the Hungry Moon.'

    'Effie!' Craig bellowed, unexpectedly. 'Effie, it's true! I was jack Belias! I am Jack Belias!'

    Then there was silence, punctuated only by Craig's over-exerted breathing.

    Effie stood very still for a moment. She should have known that she was making a mistake by supporting his obsession for Valhalla. He hadn't been rehabilitated, after his 'accident.' He wasn't cured at all. He was still so vulnerable that he had embraced anything that might restore his virility. A big house for a big man; or a loose, pretty, devil-may-care woman who believed in spells and mirror-magic and hocus-pocus. She thought about the night that they had stayed at Valhalla. Maybe Pepper had been hiding somewhere, in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and Craig had left the futon to go and make love to her. After all, Pepper had known where they were. And maybe, when Craig had called her, Pepper had adopted an aggressive attitude to hide the fact that they were already lovers.

    Effie felt grievously wounded; but at the same time she had been expecting a crisis like this, sooner or later. It was almost a relief that Craig had given her an excuse for turning her back on him; and on Valhalla, too.

    'I'll call you,' she said, pressing against the door, to close it. 'Let me talk to my lawyer, then I'll call you.'

    'Effie... please, listen to me. I was Jack Belias. I am Jack Belias. I can prove it.'

    'Go away, Craig.'

    'Effie, he's inside of my head, just as much as I am! I can't help it!'

    'Craig, if you don't go away, I'll have Ms. O'Brien call for the police.'

    'You want me to tell you how to cheat at baccarat? Did I ever know how to do it before? Do you want me to tell you about poussettes, or how to sandwich the shoe? Do you seriously think that I would know anything about baccarat, if I hadn't been him, if I wasn't him?'

    'Craig, go away. I don't want to talk to you. It's over.'

    'What more do you want, for Christ's sake? Do you want me to tell you about the night that I won
f
60,000 against Nico Zographos and the Greek Syndicate? Listen... listen... I was sitting at table two at Deauville and my table won 26 out of 29 coups against the bank. I won 12 coups myself. I went for a drink but Nico Zographos wanted me back at the table so that he could win his money back. I sat down and prompdy won five more coups. I won so much damn money that Zographos asked me if I wanted to join the syndicate.'

    'Craig-'

    'I can tell you how I ruined Bert Ambrose at the Winter Casino at Monte Carlo? That was October of 1934. I can tell you coup by coup; every card that was turned.'

    'Craig, this is madness. I want to talk to my lawyer. I want to think.'

    'Effie, I need you.'

    'What for? Because you're short of people to laugh at?'

    'I really mean it, Effie. I'll do anything.'

    For one long moment Effie didn't speak. She thought of all the happy times they had spent together, from the moment he had quoted Mallarme to their long sunlit vacations on Key West and Hilton Head Island. She thought of hamburgers at P. J. Clarke's and walks in the park. Then she thought about those interminable business meetings with Koreans and Japanese. My name is Mrs. Bellman. How are you?

    She closed the door, and double-locked it. Craig didn't call out, didn't knock. She stayed where she was until she heard him walk away.

    

    

    She had to walk past the Hungry Moon to get to Walter Van Buren's office. As she did so, Pepper called, 'Effie, wait!' and came running out of the store after her. She was wearing a black bandanna and a black T-shirt and there were plum-coloured circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept.

    Effie didn't break her stride; and Pepper almost had to run to keep up with her.

    'Effie, will you please wait? I have to talk to you.'

    'Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it.'

    'Effie, what happened yesterday evening - it was like a nightmare.'

    'I never thought that Craig was that bad in bed.'

    She crossed the street, but Pepper continued to walk beside her. 'When Craig said it wasn't us, he was telling you the truth. It wasn't us. And it wasn't yesterday evening, either. It was another time altogether.'

    Effie stopped outside the Country Goose. 'Oh, really,' she said. 'How naive do you think I am?'

    'I don't think you're naive at all. In fact I think you're sophisticated enough to understand what I'm trying to say to you, and to believe it.'

    'All I know, Ms. Moriarty, is that I saw you with my own eyes lying on your back with your legs in the air and my husband on top of you.'

    'Wrong. What you saw was Gaby - Gaby Deslys, a dancer. She was Jack Belias' mistress.'

    'Well, well,' said Effie. 'You two have really cooked up an excuse between you, haven't you?'

    'God help me, it's true. The same way that you were dancing in another time, and cut your feet.'

    'Norman put that down to spontaneous bleeding.'

    'Norman's a builder, not a psychic sensitive. You were in another time, the same as Craig and I were.'

    Effie started walking again. 'I'm sorry, Pepper. I talked to my lawyer last night and he's already taking steps to freeze our joint assets and register my interest in the marital home.'

    'Oh, come on! You're not thinking of divorce?'

    'I don't know yet. I'm just protecting myself.'

    Pepper said, 'You have to believe me, Effie, please. There is absolutely nothing between Craig and me. For God's sake, I called him Mr. Bellman until yesterday evening.'

    'At least the affair was polite.'

    'It wasn't an affair, and it wasn't us! There's something happening at Valhalla which even I don't understand.'

    'It's called two-timing. Now do you understand?'

    'Effie, please. Valhalla was always a disturbed place… I always sensed that there was something unbalanced about it. But it's just as if Craig has triggered off a huge psychic upheaval. Yesterday evening, when we went up to that room where you found us together, that room was fully restored, fully furnished, with gilt mirrors and velvet curtains, everything. The room looked like new. In fact I think it was new. Effie - that's a psychic disturbance of incredible proportions. I've experienced sounds before; and distinctive smells; and the feeling that there's somebody there. I've even experienced emotions which were nothing to do with the way I was really feeling… like terrible sadness, in a room where a woman had to sit and nurse her dying child. But I saw this room. I experienced it. I felt it. And I talked and behaved like Gaby Deslys, not like me at all.'

    Effie looked at Pepper steadily. Her expression was entirely serious; and sympathetic, too. The cool breeze from the river rustled the lime tree under which they were standing, and the shadows dappled her face.

    'I don't know,' she said. 'I think you'd agree that it's pretty damn hard to believe.'

    'You danced in that ballroom, Effie. You saw people who weren't there and cut your feet on glass that didn't exist. Yet it must have existed, at some time, and you have the scars on your feet to prove it.'

    'So what proof do you have that you were Gaby Deslys?'

    'The very fact that I know her name, and almost everything about her. I know where she was born, I know what her mother looked like. I know that she set off the riots that deposed King Manoel of Portugal, by saying that he had given her three fantastic pearl necklaces, even though he hadn't. I know something else, too; that she had roses tattooed on her breasts, just to please Jack Belias.'

    With that, she unbuttoned her blouse and bared her breasts, right out there on the street. Several passers-by stopped and stared, and one elderly man nearly walked into a tree.

    Effie said, 'Pepper- not here-'

    But Pepper said, 'You want proof? Here's proof.'

    Very, very faintly, Effie could see pinkish smudges on each of Pepper's breasts. They were so faint that they were almost invisible, and yet she could distinctly see that they were meant to be roses.

    She nodded, and said, 'Yes. I see them,' and Pepper fastened up her blouse.

    'Effie, this is a psychic disturbance that's powerful enough to make actual physical changes. Look at me! Not only do I have Gaby Deslys' memories but I have her tattoos, too. What's going to happen to me next? I don't want to be Gaby Deslys! I want to be me! Gaby Deslys lived in the 1920's and I don't want to live in the 1920's.'

    'Craig kept saying he was Jack Belias.'

    'I know how he feels. I'm sure, for a while, he was Jack Belias. And himself, too. But I swear to you, Effie, I wasn't me when Craig and I had sex yesterday evening, and he wasn't him. I did things with him that I never did with any man before - things that I never want to do again.'

    'I don't want to hear about it,' Effie interrupted her.

    'But you must; and you have to believe me. If Valhalla isn't cleansed, then Craig is going to become more and more like Jack Belias until he is Jack Belias, not just mentally, but physically. Jack Belias was a very strong personality, very dominant; whereas Craig is much weaker. Gaby Deslys was obviously stronger than me, and that's why I wound up with her tattoos, instead of her winding up with my bust size. Like I said, this disturbance makes actual physical changes to people.'

    Effie suddenly thought of the way in which Craig's skin and colouring had been gradually altering in the past two weeks. She also thought of the impression that he had given her, the last time they had made love, that he had two testicles instead of one.

    And then she thought of something else. His fingerprints. If his skin could be smooth like Jack Belias, and his hair darker, why couldn't his fingerprints have subtly altered, too?

    

    

    Walter Van Buren was wearing his Saturday-morning clothes, a sports coat and a turtle-neck sweater, both in the same beige as his weekday clothes. Effie was sure that if they started to produce automobiles the colour of bracken he would have been first in line. He was stoking his pipe, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration, when she was shown into his office.

    'Ah… Mrs. Bellman. Good of you to visit.'

    'You got my message?'

    'I surely did, and I have to say that I'm very distressed about it. Effectively the sale has gone through. All the contracts have been signed and the vendors have your banker's draft. I don't know what the position is going to be when Fulloni & Jahn find out that your accounts have been frozen. They'll probably sue. In fact, I have to say that they're certain to sue.'

    Effie said, 'I think I may have changed my mind. My husband and I had a... well, we had a misunderstanding yesterday. I haven't spoken to him today, but I don't see why we shouldn't be able to work something out.'

    'I'm very relieved to hear that, Mrs. Bellman. You know, house-buying is the single most stressful human activity after armed combat.'

    'In this case, I think it beats armed combat hands down.'

    'Well, yes, you're right. But you should try the Feldenkrais method… wonderful for getting rid of strain. You have to think of your rear end as a clock, you know.'

    'Pardon?'

    'You have to rotate it, you see. Your rear end. It's very relaxing.'

    Effie ignored his advice. 'I'll talk things over with my husband. Then I'll talk to my lawyer again and get back to you.'

    'I'm pleased. Valhalla needs somebody like your husband to get it back into shape.' He sat back in his chair, and there was a faraway, unfocused look in his eyes. 'Somebody with passion. Somebody big. It would be a hell of a pity to see it deteriorate any further.'

    'You sound almost emotional about it,' Effie smiled. She was aware that it was the first time she had smiled since yesterday evening.

    Walter Van Buren blinked his eyes back into focus and sat up straight. 'Let's just say that I have a personal interest in the old place.'

    Effie waited, but it became obvious that he wasn't going to tell her what this personal interest was, and so she stood up to leave.

    He showed her to the door. As she left, he gently put his hand on her elbow and said, 'I like you, Mrs. Bellman. You kind of remind me of somebody I used to know, a very long time ago. So please take care. We wouldn't want anything happening to you, would we?'

    'I'm not sure what you mean.'

    'Old buildings can be very dangerous places sometimes. Don't forget your hard hat.'

    'I won't,' said Effie, baffled.

    She left the office and walked back up Main Street. As she crossed the road, however, she glimpsed him watching her from Van Buren Realty's front window, his face as pale as liverwurst. She couldn't think why, but the way he was watching her seemed deeply sinister.