Vicious Circle (36 page)

‘Sit down, please.’ He led her to the leather easy chair. She sat down and curled her legs under her. Then she tucked the skirts of the bathrobe around them when she saw him looking. They were lovely legs, he noted. ‘What have you been doing during the time I was so busy neglecting you?’

‘I had three or four hours of heavenly sleep. Then I availed myself of your gymnasium. I found a tracksuit in the gym cupboard that fitted me when I rolled up the sleeves and trouser legs. I changed all the settings on your machines, for which I apologize.’

He shook his head and laughed. ‘You are more than welcome.’

‘Then I had a sauna, and I shampooed my hair. I helped myself to all the Hermès and Chanel girlie goodies in your guest bathroom, and was pleased to note that none of them had been opened by previous visitors.’

‘You are the first.’

‘I am naïve enough to believe you. Perhaps that is because I want to.’

‘Cross my heart! But have you eaten?’

‘I wasn’t hungry. I was too busy exploring.’

‘Oh my God! You will die of starvation and I will never forgive myself. You have two options. Cynthia, my chef, is the finest cook in London, and possibly the universe. The Ivy Club runs her a close second.’

‘We both have been in this house, albeit this lovely house of yours all day. Perhaps it would be better if we went out to dine,’ she said, but at the same time she dropped her eyes demurely from his. Already he knew her well enough to divine what she was actually hinting: that it was still too soon for her to spend the evening in intimate seclusion with him.

‘The Ivy it shall be. It’s pretty relaxed with its dress code, but if you would like to change I can run you past your hotel.’

‘Thank you, Hector. I would prefer that.’

‘I will throw on something suitable while you change back in your togs, and then I will wait for you in the car outside the hotel while you put on something fresh.’

He was impressed by the fact that she kept him waiting only twenty minutes, and that when she returned she was wearing something understated but elegant.

‘Perfect!’ he said as he opened the door of the Bentley for her. ‘You look smashing.’

‘That’s an adjective that sounds odd to an ear from west of the Atlantic, but I shall take it as a compliment.’

He took her on his arm through the entrance that pretended to be a flower shop and they rode up in the grand glass elevator. The girls at the reception fussed over Hector when they took the coats and one of them led them up in another elevator to the dining room.

‘Do you own the place?’ Jo whispered to him.

‘Wherever one goes in this naughty world, a decent tip performs miracles,’ he assured her.

‘I suppose it doesn’t hurt either if you look the way you do.’

‘I hope you are not allergic to champagne,’ he said as they settled at the table.

‘Try me!’ Jo invited.

When they had tasted and approved both the wine and the first course she asked the question which had been on the tip of her tongue since they had left The Cross Roads.

‘So tell me, where did you get to in my story?’ she asked.

‘I reached the part where Henry and Bryoni are waiting to hear the jury’s verdict on that horrible little shit, Carl Peter Bannock. Forgive my language but you have made me hate him.’

‘You are totally justified in that. I think that Carl Bannock is one of those people who is truly evil from the core and without any redeeming sides to his character.’

‘So where is he now, this monstrous creature?’

‘Read what I have written, Hector. Don’t try and jump ahead of the story. If you do it my way you will understand much more of the characters involved here, and there are many of them. However, I assure you that you haven’t come to the best part yet, or should I rather say the worst part.’

‘Okay, but indulge me with one more question that is eating holes in me. Did Hazel know any of this? If she did, she never told me about it.’

‘Hazel had not appeared on the scene yet. She was still learning to play tennis is South Africa.’

‘But she must have known about it when she married Henry?’

‘I doubt Henry ever told Hazel the details. Ronnie Bunter says Henry was deeply ashamed of the dreadful scandal of it all. Henry felt terrible guilt that he had not been able to protect his daughters. On the other hand, perhaps it is possible that Hazel did know but she never told you. It is such a tragic and sordid tangle that perhaps, like Henry, Hazel just wanted to pretend it had never happened.’

‘What has become of Bryoni Lee? That little one was a heroine. I would love to meet her, if that is at all possible.’

‘Contain yourself. I am not going to tell you. You will just have to read to the end of the story.’

‘I warn you, madam. Patience is not one of my numerous virtues. When I want something I want it now.’

‘There are some situations in which the ultimate pleasure is multiplied many times over by the anticipation,’ she told him. ‘And storytelling is only one of those.’ Her expression was enigmatic, and only remotely touched with prurience.

‘I am certain that advice is the best available.’ He scarcely could forbear to smile, but he managed to match her restraint. ‘How did you meet Ronnie Bunter?’ He changed the subject.

‘He was at law school with my father. I come from a long line of lawyers.’

She took his lead and they talked at large throughout the excellent meal, getting to know each other. Afterwards he took her on to a private nightclub named Annabel’s. She had never been there before but Hector was joyously received by the staff. When they danced they discovered that they moved very well together. Then the music changed and became soft and sentimental. It seemed perfectly natural that he held her closer and that she laid her head against his chest. He drove her back to her hotel and he escorted her as far as the entrance, where she told him, ‘Goodnight, Hector. I enjoyed the evening immensely. Will you call me in the morning, please? We still have so much to talk about.’ Then she offered him her cheek to kiss, and was gone in a swirl of skirts.

*

He woke at sunrise the next morning feeling rested and cheerful, with an expectation of something good about to happen to him. He lay for a few moments wondering at the source of this ebullient mood. Then it all came back to him with a rush. He chuckled gleefully and swung his legs out of the bed.

While he hurried through his ablutions he phoned down to the kitchen and told Stephen to lay out his breakfast on the desk in his study, rather than in the dining room. When he ran down the stairs showered and fully dressed, he met Stephen just leaving the study.

‘Morning, Stephen,’ he greeted him. ‘There is one other favour you can do for me.’ Stephen followed him back into the room and listened with an expression of disbelief as Hector gave him his instructions.

‘Are you certain that is what you want, Mr Cross?’ he asked when Hector had finished.

‘Tell me, Stephen, when last did I ask you to do something that I did not want you to do?’

‘I don’t think that has ever happened, sir.’

‘And it’s not happening now,’ Hector assured him.

‘I shall see to it at once, Mr Cross.’

‘I can always rely on you, Stephen.’

Hector settled himself at the desk and woke up his computer. When the screen was aglow, he picked up the telephone and dialled the number of Jo’s mobile, which she had given him the previous evening. While he waited for her to answer he speared a slice of ripe mango and slipped it into his mouth.

Jo answered on the fourth ring. ‘Good morning, Hector. How did you sleep?’

‘I fell into a deep dark hole and woke up half an hour ago, ready to slay dragons.’

‘There are enough of those out there,’ she agreed. ‘Slay one for me. I am still in bed with a cup of coffee.’

‘Lazy girl!’ he chided her. ‘Life is for living.’

‘All your fault, keeping me up into the small hours. But it was fun, wasn’t it? We should try that again sometime.’

‘Soon!’ he agreed. ‘Like this very evening, if not earlier.’

‘I have to see some people in the city this morning. I promised Ronnie Bunter. It’s nothing to do with “The Poisoned Seed”. It’s a totally different matter. However, I shall be free after lunch.’

‘Come. I shall be waiting for you.’

‘You get on with your reading. I warn you, there will be questions.’

‘And I’ll have a few for you.’

He hung up the receiver, and turned his full attention to the computer screen.

*

Henry Bannock, with Ronnie Bunter on one side of him and Bryoni on the other, had only just taken their seats in the courtroom when Judge Chamberlain came through the door from his chambers and the bailiff called the court to order.

The twelve members of the jury, led by the foreman, filed from their room and took their places in the jury box. None of them looked to where Carl Bannock was seated at the defence table.

‘Good sign!’ Ronnie whispered to Henry. ‘They seldom look at a man they have condemned.’

‘Have the members of the jury considered their verdict?’ asked Judge Chamberlain.

‘We have, Your Honour,’ replied the foreman of the jury.

‘What is your verdict?’

‘On the charge of common rape we find the accused guilty as charged.

‘On the charge of statutory rape of a minor we find the accused guilty as charged.

‘On the charge of aggravated sexual assault we find the accused guilty as charged.

‘On the charge of common assault and grievous bodily harm we find the accused guilty as charged.

‘On the charge of a commission of incest we find the accused guilty as charged.

‘On the charge of corrupting the morals of a minor we find the accused guilty as charged.’

‘Six out of six,’ breathed Ronnie Bunter. ‘Full marks to Melody Strauss.’

Judge Chamberlain thanked and dismissed the members of the jury and then conferred with the counsels for the defence and the prosecution. Finally, he addressed the court. ‘We will adjourn until tomorrow at ten o’clock, when I will pass sentence on the prisoner.’

That evening Henry hosted a celebratory dinner party at Forest Drive for twenty close friends and relatives. Cookie served a baron of prime Texan beef, comprising two full tenderloins left uncut and joined at the backbone, rare and oozing juices.

Henry opened a dozen bottles of Château Lafite Rothschild 1955, to complement the beef.

Ronnie leaned across the table to bet Melody Strauss that Carl would only get ten years in the state pen. Joshua Chamberlain was a notorious liberal, Ronnie claimed. Melody put ten dollars on a sentence of at least fifteen years. However, they both agreed that the Château Lafite was the best wine they had ever tasted.

Bryoni could not make it through to the dessert course before her eyes closed and she slumped head down onto the table. Henry carried her up to her room and tucked her into bed. He sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair until she had fallen asleep for the second time before he went back to rejoin his dinner guests. As soon as he was gone Cookie smuggled a large bowl of chocolate ice cream up to Bryoni’s bedroom by the back stairs. Bryoni found sufficient reserves of strength to wake up and polish off the bowl.

The following morning at eight o’clock Bonzo Barnes drove Bryoni to school. Henry wanted her to return to her normal routine as soon as possible. He had arranged long-term counselling for her and he had spoken at length to the school principal and Bryoni’s class teacher. Henry was satisfied that he had done everything in his power to help her weather the hurricane and get her life back on an even keel. He had been warned that it might be a long process, but Henry had faith in his daughter’s strength of character and her maturity.

Henry left for the courthouse in an angry and vengeful mood. At ten o’clock precisely the bailiff called the court to order.

Henry Bannock sat with Ronnie Bunter in his usual place in the front row of the visitors’ gallery.

Carl Peter Bannock was led up the staircase from the holding section by two uniformed guards. He was manacled and restrained by leg irons. He was pale, unshaven and unkempt. There were dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes. He looked pleadingly across the courtroom at Henry.

Henry’s expression was cold and angry. He held Carl’s eyes for a long moment. Carl smiled uncertainly and his lips quivered. Deliberately, Henry turned his face away from him in total and final rejection.

Carl’s shoulders slumped and he shuffled across the floor to stand in the dock facing Judge Chamberlain.

‘Prisoner at the bar, you have heard the verdict of the jury. Do you have anything to say in mitigation of the sentence which will be passed upon you?’

Carl looked down at the irons locked to his ankles. ‘I am truly sorry for the anguish I have caused to my father and the other members of my family. I will try to make it up to them all in any way I can.’

‘Is that all you have to say?’

‘Yes, Judge, I am very sorry.’

‘This court takes cognizance of your contrition in mitigation of sentence,’ Judge Chamberlain said, and looked down to rearrange the papers on the desk in front of him. He looked up again.

‘The sentence of this court is as follows:

‘On the charge of corrupting the morals of a minor I sentence you to five years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘On the charge of incest I sentence you to six years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘On the charge of common assault and grievous bodily harm I sentence you to six years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘On the charge of aggravated sexual assault on a minor I sentence you to twenty years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘On the charge of common rape I sentence you to fifteen years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘On the charge of statutory rape of a minor I sentence you to fifteen years’ detention in a federal penitentiary.

‘I direct that the sentences shall run concurrently, and that you shall be incarcerated for a minimum period of fifteen years.’

Judge Chamberlain looked across at John Martius expectantly. Martius rose to his feet.