Possessions (69 page)

Deliberately he turned his back and walked to his desk. Ross stood where he was, his thoughts racing.
Turning Victoria against me . . . you never had to fight for anything.
The room had stopped spinning; the red streaks of his rage were gone. His muscles loosened and he felt the lightness that came when
he cut the motor on his boat and silence descended. He looked at Derek's rigid figure: the tight, narrow face and contemptuous smile that hid a maelstrom of anger, competitiveness, and fear.

Fairy tales, he thought, hearing again the fury in his brother's voice as he had said it. But it was Derek's life, he realized, that was the fairy tale: an intricate web of wishes and fabrications to get attention, love, admiration, deference from his father and grandparents, clients, business associates, women, even—though Ross had never suspected it—his cousin and his brother.

Ross looked back through the years, as far back as he could remember. Derek had perfected his skill at manipulating people by practicing on his family, forcing Ross and Craig to feel they were competing with him—and losing. And so from the time he was a boy, Ross had feared and envied his brother, longing to have his compelling power and magnetism, even, sometimes, his single-minded ruthlessness that seemed to sweep all obstacles aside. But at the same time his fierce dislike of Derek had grown and he had tried to keep a distance between them—even refusing to consider working in the family company because that would have meant working with Derek. But there could never be enough distance, even when he moved to New York. All his life, Ross had been tied to his brother by the strongest bonds of envy and hatred.

Now, for the first time, he saw that Derek's magnetism was desperation, that the brother he had feared and envied was a chameleon furiously plotting, lying, changing colors to snare and impress others. With a shock he realized how much Derek was like Craig. No wonder they hated each other; they understood each other too well.

“Well?” Derek demanded. Usually he used silence as a weapon, making others so nervous they would say anything to break it. But Ross had outwaited him. “Well?” he repeated.

Ross picked up his briefcase. “I think we've finished for today. I have work to do.” He saw uncertainty flicker in his brother's eyes. He had never seen that before, and he knew that Derek was fighting to regain his balance: to recover from that brief moment of letting down his guard, and to recapture control of their conversation. But Ross would not let him. For once he had called Derek's bluff, and he was the one who was leaving.

Derek watched him cross the room and open the office door. “What the hell are you going to do?” he burst out.

From the doorway, Ross looked at him thoughtfully, without answering.

“You're not going to let it go to court!”

“I'm not sure. I have to make some plans. You'll hear from me.” He opened the door. “Good luck with repairing your displaced roadway. It's always best to have a straight path, isn't it?”

He strode down the corridor. As he reached the elevator, the image of his boat returned: pushing away from the dock with no constraints or ties. Whatever he needed to do, however he had to do it, he had left the bonds of competitiveness and envy behind. Derek could no longer touch him; he was free.

*  *  *

Victoria handed the portfolio of Picasso lithographs to Katherine. They sat together on the silk couch in the library; a low fire burned in the fireplace though the evening was mild. “A wonderful collection,” she said. “Hugh and I bought them in Paris so long ago I can't remember. I'll miss looking at them each day.”

“So why donate them now?” Tobias asked as he poked a log and laid a new one upon it. “Put them in your will. The museum can wait.”

“Board members are expected to make donations to set an example. Besides, I want to be able to see people enjoying them.”

Katherine looked up from a picture of a bull and a young woman that would have been called obscene if anyone but Picasso had drawn it. “Why are you doing this now?” she asked.

“Because I'm getting old and the years vanish and there's so much I still want to do. I've promised our nineteenth-century collection to the Palace of the Legion of Honor and the rest to the Museum of Modern Art and I want to space it out so I can see them all mounted, and hear experts pontificate about the Hayward collection and my generosity.”

“I mean, why do you talk about dying? It makes me think I'm about to lose you.”

“Dear Katherine, I'm shockingly healthy; I don't intend to die for years. Although worrying about you and Ross makes me feel very old.”

“That's blackmail,” Katherine said.

“The older you get, my dear, the more weapons you are willing to use to get what you want.”

“Actually,” Tobias put in. “We are most worried right now about Ross. Mournfully, he quoted, “‘ . . . the shriveled, hopping, loud and troublesome insects of the hour.' Certain injured workmen, that is, and their lawyers.”

“The ones in the Macklin Building?” Katherine asked. “What about them?”

“They are suing Ross,” said Victoria bitterly. “For five million dollars.”

Katherine drew a sharp breath. “Has he said how he'll fight it?”

Tobias gave Katherine a keen look. “If it goes to court, which it may not, he'll say the support beams were strong enough and anchored properly, and the damage was caused by the earthquake. Is there any other explanation?”

Five million dollars, Katherine thought. And no one to help him. She put the portfolio of lithographs on the table and stared into the fire.
What do I do now? Ross wants to protect Victoria . . . but I want to protect Ross. Or at least do whatever I can to help him.

Which means telling Victoria and Tobias, because they're the ones who can do something for him.

And, after all, why shouldn't they know? Victoria is a pretty tough lady. Ross told me that himself, in France.
It's not accurate to think of her as a helpless little old lady who lies like a crumpled piece of tissue paper while the busy world passes her by.
But still he thinks she needs to be shielded.

He thought I did, too, when he found Elissa.

But he underestimated us. We're stronger than he thinks. And families should be told, when one of them is threatened; they shouldn't be prevented from helping each other.

But who am I, to make that decision? Maybe Ross had other reasons for keeping quiet; how do I know what I might be starting?
For the first time in months Katherine felt uncomfortable, almost like an outsider again, involved in events she shouldn't know about, telling a story she had no right to tell, violating a confidence without any idea what train of events she might be setting in motion.

I don't know what to do!

“Well, my dear,” said Tobias mildly. “Is there a way we can help you solve whatever dilemma keeps you in silent dialogue with yourself?”

Katherine started. “I'm sorry. I was being rude.”

“No, no. Something is troubling you and you are not sure whether you should tell us. Of course we think you should, because we love you. But you must do whatever you think best for all of us. Your whole family.”

The weight of the dilemma slipped from Katherine; she began to smile.
Your whole family.
She wasn't an outsider; she hadn't been for a long time.
I'm sorry, Ross. I hope you'll understand. I love you; I want to help you; and I want Victoria and Tobias to be able to help you, too.

“There is another defense,” she said at last. “But Ross won't use it.”

“Yes?” Tobias was alert.

“And that is—?” Victoria demanded.

“The building was weak,” Katherine said, choosing her words carefully. “The support columns, or the footings under them, weren't as strong or as deep as they should have been. Ross suspected it and when he had the building checked in July he found he was right. But the repair work kept being delayed, and then the earthquake came. The problem wasn't the design of the temporary beams; it was in the building itself.”

“That's
why he bought it!” exclaimed Tobias. “He suspected—”

“Just one moment!” Victoria raised a peremptory hand. “Katherine, are you suggesting the Macklin Building is substandard? It was built by the Hayward Corporation!”

“I know. The specifications were altered to cut costs.”

“But the building inspectors . . .?” Tobias asked.

“Ross thinks they must have been bribed.”

“Rubbish,” declared Victoria. “Curt or Jason would have known about it.”

Katherine nodded.

“Curt,” Victoria said, her voice blank.

Katherine nodded again.

They were silent, locked in their own thoughts. The butler appeared in the doorway and announced dinner. Victoria roused
herself and as they moved into the dining room, she put her hand on Katherine's arm. “This has been difficult for you. Ross told you he thought he could keep it a secret?”

“He was going to have the building repaired as part of the renovation. He didn't want you to face a scandal—”

“—in my declining years,” Victoria finished, scoffing. “Of course I am not nearly as delicate as my grandson thinks; how fortunate that you knew that. But my dear Katherine, what a dilemma—keeping Ross's secret or telling me! Thank you, my dear, for choosing me. I promise you will not be sorry. But of course now that you know I will not faint upon the spot, you must tell us everything, wherever it leads. We want to know it all.”

As Katherine smiled gratefully, Tobias asked, “How long has he known, or suspected?”

There was a pause before Katherine replied, “He's suspected, for sixteen years.”

“Sixteen—!” Victoria exclaimed. “And told none of us! He should be ashamed of himself!”

“No, that's not fair. He couldn't tell you then, because—”

“The sailing accident,” Tobias broke in. “That's when he began to suspect? You told me Craig and Derek quarreled about the Macklin Building.”

“Good God in Heaven!” Victoria burst out. She whipped open her napkin and laid it across her lap. “Was I the only one who knew nothing?”

“I know no more than that,” soothed Tobias. “Katherine. Please.”

“Craig accused Derek of altering the specifications on the footings in the Macklin Building; Derek came back and said
Craig
had done it, and bribed an inspector to approve the work.”

“But more likely it was Derek.” Spearing a wedge of mango, Tobias had a gleam of discovery in his eye. “Always was impatient—and thinks he's above the law.”

Victoria toyed with her food. “And of course Curt knew about it. He and Derek always worked closely in those days; I remember how confident I felt; Hugh was dead but my son and my grandson were there . . . My son and my grandson!” she repeated contemptuously.

Her face was drawn, her eyes looking to the distance. “Hugh
always insisted on safety. Our reputation, he said; the lives of the people who trusted our buildings . . . He never violated that trust. He was scrupulous in following city regulations, earthquake safety codes—he even helped write some of them! And now . . . my son and my grandson . . . cutting corners . . . bribery . . . Dishonorable! Despicable! Playing on the desperation or greed of others . . . Damnation!” she burst out. “An old woman should be able to relax; she should be able to trust her heirs to protect her name and the company she and her husband built from nothing and made famous and respected . . .!”

“This old woman,” Tobias said pointedly, “insists on being chairman of the board of the Hayward Corporation.”

She looked at him imperiously. “I am the majority stockholder in the corporation.”

“Then perhaps you are not ready to relax.”

“Ah.” She gave a small laugh. “You have a point.” The butler offered a silver platter of veal and tiny potato puffs to each of them. Serving herself, Victoria frowned thoughtfully, then said, “Of course the suit against Ross cannot go to trial. It is intolerable to contemplate others poking through our affairs. So we must settle it out of court, which will require . . . Tobias, Ross said the workmen were injured but not crippled. What is a realistic sum their lawyer would be likely to accept?”

“Perhaps a quarter of a million.”

“And it is Derek's responsibility. Do we agree on that? Katherine? Didn't you bring us this information so we could bring pressure to bear on Derek?”

“Not only to settle the suit,” said Tobias quickly, “but also to pay for the repair of the building.”

Uncomfortably, Katherine said, “I'm not sure what I expected. I just thought you should know, so Ross wouldn't be alone.”

“Ah.” Victoria sighed with satisfaction. “Then we must decide what to do. Obviously Derek must assume the responsibility for various expenditures. Can he be blackmailed?”

“Good heavens!” Tobias exclaimed. “After seventy-five years, to find I still do not know my own sister . . .”

“Surprise keeps us young,” Victoria said. “It's the glue that holds people together.” She smiled at him with such tenderness
that Katherine felt a spurt of envy. After years of separate lives, how lucky they were, she thought, to find companionship and love.

“‘He is as deaf to angels as an oak,'” Tobias quoted. “How do you reach a man who loves no one, who has more money than anyone needs, and who finds morality boring? His only enduring passion is power. Might we threaten that?”

“Derek runs the Hayward Corporation admirably,” Victoria said. “He makes a great deal of money for all of us.”

“Yes, yes, very practical. But—”

“In fact,” she declared suddenly, “if I'd paid more attention to what he and Curt were doing, all along, none of this might have happened. I've been complacent; quite satisfied to let them run the company—”