Heart of Lies (21 page)

Amelia Simmons stood on the Hoffman’s doorstep and waited for someone to answer the doorbell. She did not fidget, nor exhibit any visible sign of irritation as the seconds became minutes, and still no one responded to her summons. She waited. Then she rang again, and she waited again. She did not tap her slim crocodile-clad foot, check her lipstick in the reflection provided by the decorative brass doorknocker, or readjust the hat that covered the smooth chignon into which she’d twisted her hair. Her demeanor was neither patient, nor benign. Hers was the menacing forbearance of the scavenger.

The sticky Shanghai heat sent a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her long white neck.
God, I detest this place.
She hated the heat and the noise and the stench of it. But like many of the human scavengers and parasites found in Shanghai, she stayed because the city’s decadent prosperity provided a better home for their kind than anywhere else in the world.

Now Shanghai was dying, giving her the perfect reason to leave: self-preservation.

Amelia could have left Shanghai when her husband Reggie died. She had her own hefty little nest egg, expertly skimmed from Reggie’s ill-gotten gains. But something—or rather, someone—made her decide to stay.

The possibility of seeing Leo again brought back a flood of erotic memories. Their affair had lasted only two weeks, but no one with an ounce of pride could have objected to how Leo had handled himself, and Amelia had plenty of pride. But she still remembered the feel of his hands, and the taste of his kiss. The smell that was most distinctly
him.
Most of all she remembered the distant look in his eyes, a distance she’d thought, for one small moment, she could breach.

At first she did not connect Leo with the scandal that resulted in her husband’s suicide. Reggie was not confronted by the people at his firm until a year after Leo broke off their liaison. She did not really miss her dearly departed. His money and her independence were more than sufficient consolation for the loss of his stodgy company. But it was inconvenient for his life to have ended the way it did.

Then, one sultry evening six months after Reggie’s death, Amelia saw Martha and Leo dancing together at the popular nightclub on top of the Cathay Hotel. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, but she wisely kept her distance and studied the two of them.

The expression on Leo’s face as he looked at his wife gave her the first clue. Amelia was a woman of considerable experience. She knew that his gaze was not the look of a man who searched elsewhere for entertainment.

Ever since that moment, she couldn’t shake the notion that Leo had played some role in Reggie’s demise. In her clever brain she replayed every conversation she’d had with Leo during their two-week affair. It
seemed to her that she never really told him that Reggie was stealing; however, looking back, she’d probably said enough for a suspicious, insightful mind to put two and two together.

It wasn’t until afterward that she’d learned her dear Reggie had jumped from embezzling to smuggling opium, using his tobacco shipments as a convenient cover. While a lucrative move financially, cutting into the opium market made Reggie an inconvenience for Liu Tue-Sheng. And Leo worked at the bank that many whispered was a cover for Liu’s other, more profitable businesses.

A wry smile played upon her lips as she thought again about how coolly Leo had used her. Of course, she’d exploited many people in her life, but she never expected for anyone to give her a taste of her own with such finesse.

For a while she was tempted to plan some revenge, but Amelia never acted rashly. After critically examining her situation, she realized that vengeance was not her true goal. What she wanted was Leo.

She’d felt something different when she was with him, something more than pleasant physical passion. In his arms she’d remembered the few things she actually liked about herself, and was even able, for a few tantalizing moments, to abandon all of her disciplined self-control. She’d felt free.

Yes, Amelia wanted Leo. She wanted him back in her bed. And she wanted him to look at her the way he’d looked at Martha.

With her usual pragmatism, Amelia discerned that destroying Leo’s marriage would be counterproductive. That would only make him hate her. And she had to hope that Leo didn’t know much about her past. Unlike Reggie, Leo did not seem like the type of man to take home used merchandise, no matter how alluring the packaging.

No, given her colorful track record, she couldn’t hope to break up his marriage. She would have to wait and capitalize on someone else’s mistake. Someone else would expose Leo for mixing sex and business (for she had no doubt he had done so before and would do it again), and then she, Amelia, would swoop down and snatch Leo away from Martha’s wounded little paws.

For three years she waited. Then an errant bomb suddenly eliminated Martha from the equation. No matter. Once again, Amelia’s perseverance had paid off. This was her moment. She intended to seize it.

He can’t love a dead woman forever,
she thought, as the manservant, Duo Win, finally answered the door in response to her persistent ringing. The fact that Martha had been dead less than forty-eight hours did not give Amelia a moment’s hesitation. She did not see herself as callous; she was merely practical. She wanted to leave Shanghai. In light of the dangers posed by the Japanese invasion, it made good sense to leave immediately. She wanted Leo to go with her. To accomplish this, she had something to offer him, something she thought Leo would be unable to refuse: an American passport.

Duo Win looked at her in annoyance. He did not recognize the woman on the step, and he did not wait for an introduction before dismissing her.

“No come in, Missy. Mista Leo no see. No talk. Missy Martha die. No come in.”

Amelia came prepared for such a rebuff. As Duo Win closed the door, she swiftly pushed an American twenty-dollar bill into the crack between the door and its frame, just above the door knob. When the door slammed shut, it trapped the bill so that a few inches stuck out on either side.

It was a staggering amount of money, probably more than the poor servant had ever seen so close to his own nose. Amelia clutched her end tightly. After a moment she felt a tug. She tightened her grip.

“No, my dear. Wantchee money, open door.”

There was silence, then another tug. Amelia waited. The door creaked open. Duo Win’s guilty face peeked out.

Amelia pressed into the room, skillfully tucking the twenty into Duo Win’s hand as she slipped by him.

“Let’s say I pushed my way in, why don’t we? Go ahead and make a fuss.” She moved quickly to the center of the foyer.

Duo Win, grateful to have an alibi, started to yell. “I say no come in. Bad lady. Mista Leo too sad. No see no one.”

After a moment of this ranting Leo appeared on the first floor landing. Maddy was right behind him. Amelia looked up at them. She scarcely noticed Maddy, whose pinched and tear-stained face peered over the railing with a pathetic stare that would have melted anyone’s heart—anyone but Amelia’s.

Leo looked wretched. His face was gray, his skin unshaven, and two deep lines were now visible on his broad, square forehead. Amelia was not deterred. She was relying on the fact that, in time, his grief would pass. He would recover, and be deeply grateful that she had saved them.

“Leo, I came as soon as I heard. I can’t tell you how badly I feel for you. For both of you. I know how you loved her.”

Leo looked at her with consternation, not conveying any indication that he understood what she’d said. He made no move to come downstairs. After a moment he cleared his throat. Ragged words emerged. “Amelia, I appreciate your coming, but we are not up to receiving visitors. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Amelia knew that additional pleasantries would serve no purpose. She came directly to the point. “Leo, I need to speak to you. Immediately. About your future. And Madeleine’s,” she added, baiting her hook. Leo did not say a word. She walked to the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him with all the sweetness she could muster.

“Amelia, this is really not the time—”

“Leo,” she implored, “how much time do any of us have left here? I know you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Leo sighed, conveying the impression that he would agree to listen because he did not have the energy to argue. He said to Duo Win, who was still hovering furtively near the front door, “Please take Miss Maddy down to the kitchen, and see if Wei Lin can tempt her into eating something.”

Duo Win scampered up to collect his small charge. Maddy allowed herself to be led away. She cast one panicked look at her father before exiting the foyer.

Leo showed Amelia into the front parlor. He waited for her to take a seat on the sofa, then positioned himself on a chair near the fireplace, politely communicating that he intended to remain as far away from her as possible. Amelia decided not to be insulted.

She was nervous. It was an unfamiliar sensation. She thought about lighting a cigarette, then decided not to. Better to plunge ahead.

“Leo,” she began, “please believe that I’m here only as a concerned friend. Have you thought about what you and Maddy are going to do?”

Do? What was there left to do? What did it matter, now that Martha was gone?
He’d thought about nothing but the explosion for the last forty-eight hours. He saw the buildings collapse, and heard Maddy’s screams. His life had stopped at that moment.

“Look,” he said, after a significant pause, “this is pointless. Whatever you have to tell me—”

“Marry me and come to America.”

He stared at her, shocked beyond words. She rushed into the void, explaining and cajoling.

“Leo, I know it’s ridiculous, my coming to you this way. You and Maddy are safe here for the moment, but for how long? No one knows if the Japanese will respect the International Concessions, and the Chinese army is going to abandon Shanghai any day now. The rest of the world has given up on us. No one is willing to rescue Shanghai this time, because this time the war between Japan and China will destroy the city’s ability to keep making money. And where can you go? Back to Vienna? If you’d been comfortable there, you wouldn’t have come to Shanghai.”

She paused, allowing the truth of her words to sink in. “Maybe you don’t care about what happens to you, but I do. And Madeleine deserves a chance at happiness, in a place where the death of her mother won’t haunt her. I know it may seem cruel, even obscene for me to come here, today, with an offer like this, but we’ve no time for proper etiquette. I’ve booked a first-class cabin on the
President Jefferson
. It leaves in five days. Once its berths are full, no more American ships will be leaving Shanghai until God knows when. Everyone who could get out already has.”

Leo still stared at her. She looked down at her own slim ankles, neatly crossed in front of her, and finished her speech.

“I know you don’t love me, and I know our marriage will exist only on paper. We can get a divorce as soon as you like, or as soon as the law will allow without jeopardizing your American residency. But at least
you can get out. I don’t want to leave you and your daughter here, not knowing if the next bomb will fall on you and Madeleine. Or to find out one day that you were killed, and that she was left alone in one of those ghastly orphanages—” She stopped short as real tears filled her eyes. The idea of Leo’s dying really did upset her.

Leo sat back heavily in his chair as the pain of his loss once again overwhelmed him. A question hissed out of his lungs, like stale air from a balloon.

“Why are you doing this?”

But he knew why, even as he asked. Women like Amelia always found a way into his life. They were like cockroaches, crawling in and out of the cracks of human weakness, surviving no matter what the cost; women like Amelia and his first lover, Countess Podmaniczky.

In his life there had been only two women he’d loved and wanted to protect: Erzsebet and Martha. He’d failed them both. He covered his face with his hands.

Then he was aware of Amelia’s presence next to him. She put her hand lightly on his shoulder. “I won’t lie and say that I grieved over Reggie the way you’re grieving over Martha. But I do know what it’s like to be alone. And I know this isn’t the right time, but I’ve never had the chance to tell you that during the time we were…that is…the time we spent together, it really meant something to me. More than you ever knew.”

She leaned in closer. “I know that I’ll never replace Martha. I’m not trying to. But I do care about you, and at the very least I can help you escape from this hell hole. And maybe, at some point in the future, you and I can help each other overcome our loneliness.”

Leo’s self-hatred responded instantly to her words, raging inside him
like a caged animal in search of violent release. His entire body flexed with tension as he fought his urge to hurt this woman. Instinctively he clutched the arms of his chair to keep himself from striking her.

Amelia could see the outline of his erection through the linen of his trousers. Encouraged, she did not guess he was inspired by fury and not desire. She took off her hat and knelt on the floor next to his chair, ready to service him then and there.

As she started to bring her head to his lap Leo grabbed Amelia by the hair. She looked up at him, her light brown eyes glazed with lust and anticipation, excited by what she mistook for passion.

Leo returned her stare with cold malice. For the second time in his life he felt overcome by a thirst for revenge; but this time, there was no one to blame for his pain but himself.
He
had killed Martha, by keeping her in Shanghai. Why bother to go on living?

For Maddy.

If he threw away this chance to elude Liu’s grasp, he might not get another. And to go to America? Under different circumstances, it would be a dream come true. Leo forced himself to relax his grip. He had no reason to be angry at this woman. On the contrary, he had used her. As far as he knew, Amelia’s sins were no worse than his own.