“That’s El in Palm Springs. He has a little bungalow there. He’s done very well for himself. He was nominated for an Oscar once; did you know that? Frank was always so proud of him. I would have been jealous had I a sibling who had so much talent. But not Frank. He would talk about his brother’s achievements to anyone who would listen.”
As Eva replaced the last photograph, she noticed there were no baby photos in the room, no portraits of tots in rompers or school photos of adolescents.
“Did you and Mr. Blankenship have children?” Eva ventured, shyly. Hesitantly.
A soft sigh escaped the woman on the couch. “We wanted to but after trying for a while we found out the wounds Frank sustained in the war messed with something essential. To fathering children, I mean.”
Eva wished she hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry.”
June shrugged. “Frank and I found other ways to be happy.”
At that moment from above them came a soft thud. It sounded like a shoe dropping to the floor, perhaps. Or a small ashtray getting knocked off a bedside table onto a rug.
Or maybe a cat jumping down from the top of a highboy.
Eva looked toward the ceiling and the second floor. So did June.
June cleared her throat. “Elwood must be awake.”
Eva turned back to the frames, noticing how in the wedding photo a young, smiling June had her head tilted to the side, toward her brother-in-law, and she sensed great affection among the three of them.
Eva didn’t know what to make of the sound she’d just heard. She took her time straightening the frames to see if there would be another thumping sound, followed by another, which could perhaps be taken as a cry for help.
But the upstairs was quiet.
When Eva stepped out of June’s house a couple of hours later, Melanie dashed out to meet her, looking over at the Blankenship house to make sure June wasn’t at her own picture window, watching.
“Well?” she said when she reached Eva.
Eva shrugged. “June didn’t want me to go upstairs today. But I did hear Mr. Blankenship moving about up there. And I don’t think…I don’t know. June seems genuinely nice.”
Melanie frowned as though she wished June had seemed like a lunatic.
“She said Mr. Blankenship is having a bad spell and doesn’t want to see anyone right now,” Eva continued.
“I know what she’s saying about him,” Melanie replied quickly. “But tomorrow I want you to try again. And the next day and the next until we know for sure. I just want you to see him, Eva. I don’t care what you heard or how June seems. I’m telling you, something doesn’t feel right.”
5
Melanie didn’t hear from Carson that day until well after midnight New York time.
She’d assumed he’d want to hear right away how her phone conversation had gone that morning and that he’d call before heading to the theater for wardrobe and makeup. When her West Coast afternoon passed without the telephone ringing—the quick calls from her lawyer Walt and then Irving had taken place just minutes after she’d hung up with the government man—she’d then expected Carson to phone her from inside his dressing room immediately after curtain call.
But he’d gone back to his rented Chelsea apartment before picking up the phone to call her. Melanie didn’t know if that was because he really did trust her not to spill names or because he’d called Walt much earlier that day to see how it had gone.
This latter notion annoyed her. She wanted Carson to want to hear from her what that man had asked her and what she’d said in response, not from Walt who wasn’t even on the call. She spent theearly part of the evening before Carson called telling herself it was because he trusted her, even though she didn’t quite believe it.
Melanie was in bed sipping a martini, worrying about Elwood, and watchingThe $64,000 Questionon the little TV set in the bedroom when the phone finally rang.
“Hey, doll.” Carson’s voice was smooth, deep, and sensual, as if in character and reading from a script.
“Hey.” She’d wanted to sound nonchalant but then quickly realized she’d answered on the first ring. Damn.
“So. You doing all right?” he asked.
“Sure. Are you? It’s a little late back there, isn’t it?”
“I’m always keyed up after a show; you know that.” He laughed as though she’d forgotten something everybody knew about Carson Edwards.
