Master of the Game

Six months from the day Tony and Marianne were married, the Hoffman company was absorbed into Kruger-Brent, Ltd. The formal signing of the contracts took place in Munich as a gesture to Frederick Hoffman, who would run the subsidiary from Germany. Tony had been surprised by the meekness with which his mother accepted his marriage. It was not like her to lose gracefully, yet she had been cordial to Marianne when Tony and his bride returned from their honeymoon in the Bahamas, and had told Tony how pleased she was with the marriage. What puzzled Tony was that her sentiments seemed genuine. It was too quick a turnaround, out of character for her. Perhaps, Tony decided, he did not understand his mother as well as he thought he did.

The marriage was a brilliant success from the beginning. Marianne filled a long-felt need in Tony, and everyone around him noticed the change in him—especially Kate.

When Tony took business trips, Marianne accompanied him. They played together, they laughed together, they truly enjoyed each other. Watching them, Kate thought happily, I have done well for my son.

It was Marianne who succeeded in healing the breach between Tony and his mother. When they returned from their honeymoon, Marianne said, “I want to invite your mother to dinner.”

“No. You don’t know her, Marianne. She—”

“I want to get to know her. Please, Tony.”

He hated the idea, but in the end he gave in. Tony had been prepared for a grim evening, but he had been surprised. Kate had been touchingly happy to be with them. The following week Kate invited them to the house for dinner, and after that it became a weekly ritual.

Kate and Marianne became friends. They spoke to each other over the telephone several times a week, and lunched together at least once a week.

They were meeting for lunch at Lutèce, and the moment Marianne walked in, Kate knew something was wrong.

“I’d like a double whiskey, please,” Marianne told the captain. “Over ice.”

As a rule, Marianne drank only wine.

“What’s happened, Marianne?”

“I’ve been to see Dr. Harley.”

Kate felt a sudden stab of alarm. “You’re not ill, are you?”

“No. I’m just fine. Only…” The whole story came tumbling out.

It had begun a few days earlier. Marianne had not been feeling well, and she had made an appointment with John Harley…

“You look healthy enough,” Dr. Harley smiled. “How old are you, Mrs. Blackwell?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Any history of heart disease in your family?”

“No.”

He was making notes. “Cancer?”

“No.”

“Are your parents alive?”

“My father is. My mother died in an accident.”

“Have you ever had mumps?”

“No.”

“Measles?”

“Yes. When I was ten.”

“Whooping cough?”

“No.”

“Any surgery?”

“Tonsils. I was nine.”

“Other than that, you’ve never been hospitalized for anything?”

“No. Well, yes—that is, once. Briefly.”

“What was that for?”

“I was on the girls’ hockey team at school and during a game I blacked out. I woke up in a hospital. I was only there two days. It was really nothing.”

“Did you suffer an injury during the game?”

“No. I—I just blacked out.”

“How old were you then?”

“Sixteen. The doctor said it was probably some kind of adolescent glandular upset.”

John Harley sat forward in his chair. “When you woke up, do you remember if you felt any weakness on either side of your body?”

Marianne thought a moment. “As a matter of fact, yes. My right side. But it went away in a few days. I haven’t had anything like it since.”

“Did you have headaches? Blurred vision?”

“Yes. But they went away, too.” She was beginning to be alarmed. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me, Dr. Harley?”

“I’m not sure. I’d like to make a few tests—just to be on the safe side.”

“What kind of tests?”

“I’d like to do a cerebral angiogram. Nothing to be concerned about. We can have it done right away.”

Three days later, Marianne received a call from Dr. Harley’s nurse asking her to come in. John Harley was waiting for her in his office. “Well, we’ve solved the mystery.”

“Is it something bad?”

“Not really. The angiogram showed that what you had, Mrs. Blackwell, was a small stroke. Medically, it’s called a berry aneurysm, and it’s very common in women—particularly in teen-age girls. A small blood vessel in the brain broke and leaked small amounts of blood. The pressure is what caused the headaches and blurred vision. Fortunately, those things are self-healing.”

Marianne sat there listening, her mind fighting panic. “What—what does all this mean, exactly? Could it happen again?”

“It’s very unlikely.” He smiled. “Unless you’re planning to go out for the hockey team again, you can live an absolutely normal life.”

“Tony and I like to ride and play tennis. Is that—?”

“As long as you don’t overdo, everything goes. From tennis to sex. No problem.”

She smiled in relief. “Thank God.”

As Marianne rose, John Harley said, “There is one thing, Mrs. Blackwell. If you and Tony are planning to have children, I would advise adopting them.”

Marianne froze. “You said I was perfectly normal.”

“You are. Unfortunately, pregnancy increases the vascular volume enormously. And during the last six to eight weeks of pregnancy, there’s an additional increase in blood pressure. With the history of that aneurysm, the risk factor would be un-acceptably high. It would not only be dangerous—it could be fatal. Adoptions are really quite easy these days. I can arrange—”

But Marianne was no longer listening. She was hearing Tony’s voice: I want us to have a baby. A little girl who looks exactly like you.

“…I couldn’t bear to hear any more,” Marianne told Kate. “I ran out of his office and came straight here.”

Kate made a tremendous effort not to let her feelings show. It was a stunning blow. But there had to be a way. There was always a way.

She managed a smile and said, “Well! I was afraid it was going to be something much worse.”

“But, Kate, Tony and I want so much to have a baby.”

“Marianne, Dr. Harley is an alarmist. You had a minor problem years ago, and Harley’s trying to turn it into something important. You know how doctors are.” She took Marianne’s hand. “You feel well, don’t you, darling?”

“I felt wonderful until—”

“Well, there you are. You aren’t going around having any fainting spells?”

“No.”

“Because it’s all over. He said himself that those things are self-healing.”

“He said the risks—”

Kate sighed. “Marianne, every time a woman gets pregnant, there’s always a risk. Life is full of risks. The important thing in life is to decide which risks are the ones worth taking, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” Marianne sat there thinking. She made her decision. “You’re right. Let’s not say anything to Tony. It would only worry him. We’ll keep it our secret.”

Kate thought, I could bloody well kill John Harley for scaring her to death. “It will be our secret,” Kate agreed.

Three months later, Marianne became pregnant. Tony was thrilled. Kate was quietly triumphant. Dr. John Harley was horrified.

“I’ll arrange for an immediate abortion,” he told Marianne.

“No, Dr. Harley. I feel fine. I’m going to have the baby.”

When Marianne told Kate about her visit, Kate stormed into John Harley’s office. “How dare you suggest my daughter-in-law have an abortion?”

“Kate, I told her that if she carries that baby to term, there’s a chance it might kill her.”

“You don’t know that. She’s going to be fine. Stop alarming her.”

Eight months later, at four A.M. in early February, Marianne’s labor pains began prematurely. Her moans awakened Tony.

He began hurriedly dressing. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”

The pains were agonizing. “Please hurry.”

She wondered whether she should have told Tony about her conversations with Dr. Harley. No, Kate had been right. It was her decision to make. Life was so wonderful that God would not let anything bad happen to her.

When Marianne and Tony arrived at the hospital, everything was in readiness. Tony was escorted to a waiting room. Marianne was taken into an examining room. The obstetrician, Dr. Mattson, took Marianne’s blood pressure. He frowned and took it again. He looked up and said to his nurse, “Get her into the operating room—fast!”

Tony was at the cigarette machine in the hospital corridor when a voice behind him said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Rembrandt.” Tony turned. He recognized the man who had been with Dominique in front of her apartment building. What had she called him? Ben. The man was staring at Tony, an antagonistic expression on his face. Jealousy? What had Dominique told him? At that moment, Dominique appeared. She said to Ben, “The nurse said Michelline is in intensive care. We’ll come—” She saw Tony, and stopped.

“Tony! What are you doing here?”

“My wife is having a baby.”

“Did your mother arrange it?” Ben asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dominique told me your mother arranges everything for you, sonny.”

“Ben! Stop it!”

“Why? It’s the truth, isn’t it, baby? Isn’t that what you said?”

Tony turned to Dominique. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Ben, let’s get out of here.”

But Ben was enjoying himself. “I wish I had a mother like yours, buddy boy. You want a beautiful model to sleep with, she buys you one. You want to have an art exhibition in Paris, she arranges it for you. You—”

“You’re crazy.”

“Am I?” Ben turned to Dominique. “Doesn’t he know?”

“Don’t I know what?” Tony demanded.

“Nothing, Tony.”

“He said my mother arranged the exhibition in Paris. That’s a lie, isn’t it?” He saw the expression on Dominique’s face. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” Dominique said reluctantly.

“You mean she had to pay Goerg to—to show my paintings?”

“Tony, he really liked your paintings.”

“Tell him about the art critic,” Ben urged.

“That’s enough, Ben!” Dominique turned to go. Tony grabbed her arm. “Wait! What about him? Did my mother arrange for him to be at the exhibit?”

“Yes.” Dominique’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

“But he hated my paintings.”

She could hear the pain in his voice. “No, Tony. He didn’t. Andre d’Usseau told your mother you could have become a great artist.”

And he was face to face with the unbelievable. “My mother paid d’Usseau to destroy me?”

“Not to destroy you. She believed she was doing it for your own good.”

The enormity of what his mother had done was staggering. Everything she had told him was a lie. She had never intended to let him live his own life. And Andre d’Usseau! How could a man like that be bought? But of course Kate would know the price of any man. Wilde could have been referring to Kate when he talked of someone who knew the price of everything, the value of nothing. Everything had always been for the company. And the company was Kate Blackwell. Tony turned and walked blindly down the corridor.

In the operating room, the doctors were fighting desperately to save Marianne’s life. Her blood pressure was alarmingly low, and her heartbeat was erratic. She was given oxygen and a blood transfusion, but it was useless. Marianne was unconscious from a cerebral hemorrhage when the first baby was delivered, and dead three minutes later when the second twin was taken.

Tony heard a voice calling, “Mr. Blackwell.” He turned. Dr. Mattson was at his side.

“You have two beautiful, healthy twin daughters, Mr. Black-well.”

Tony saw the look in his eyes. “Marianne—she’s all right, isn’t she?”

Dr. Mattson took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could. She died on the—”

“She what?” It was a scream. Tony grabbed Dr. Mattson’s lapels and shook him. “You’re lying! She’s not dead.”

“Mr. Blackwell—”

“Where is she? I want to see her.”

“You can’t go in just now. They’re preparing her—”

Tony cried out, “You killed her, you bastard! You killed her.” He began attacking the doctor. Two interns hurried in and grabbed Tony’s arms.

“Now take it easy, Mr. Blackwell.”

Tony fought like a madman. “I want to see my wife!”

Dr. John Harley hurried up to the group. “Let him go,” he commanded. “Leave us alone.”

Dr. Mattson and the interns left. Tony was weeping brokenly. “John, they k-killed Marianne. They m-murdered her.”

“She’s dead, Tony, and I’m sorry. But no one murdered her. I told her months ago if she went ahead with this pregnancy it could kill her.”

It took a long moment for the words to sink in. “What are you talking about?”

“Marianne didn’t tell you? Your mother didn’t say anything?”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes uncomprehending. “My mother?”

“She thought I was being an alarmist. She advised Marianne to go ahead with it. I’m so sorry, Tony. I’ve seen the twins. They’re beautiful. Wouldn’t you like to—?”

Tony was gone.

Kate’s butler opened the door for Tony.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Good morning, Lester.”

The butler took in Tony’s disheveled appearance. “Is everything all right, sir?”

“Everything is fine. Would you make me a cup of coffee, Lester?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Tony watched the butler move toward the kitchen. Now, Tony, the voice in his head commanded.

Yes. Now. Tony turned and walked into the trophy room. He went to the cabinet that held the gun collection, and he stared at the gleaming array of instruments of death.

Open the cabinet, Tony.

He opened it. He selected a revolver from the gun rack and checked the barrel to make sure it was loaded.

She’ll be upstairs, Tony.

Tony turned and started up the stairs. He knew now that it was not his mother’s fault that she was evil. She was possessed, and he was going to cure her. The company had taken her soul, and Kate was not responsible for what she did. His mother and the company had become one, and when he killed her, the company would die.

He was outside Kate’s bedroom door.

Open the door, the voice commanded.

Tony opened the door. Kate was dressing in front of a mirror when she heard the door open.

“Tony! What on earth—”

He carefully aimed the gun at her and began squeezing the trigger.