The Scarlatti Inheritance
“I congratulate you.”
“It’s simply incredible,” the banker said quietly. “Securities worth over two hundred and seventy million dollars. Missin’, unaccounted for. Just floatin’ around somewhere. Who knows where? Even the largest bankin’ syndicates have trouble raisin’ such capital. Oh, it’s a crisis, ma’am! Especially in a highly speculative market. I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“It’s possible that by keeping your own counsel you’ll spend many years drawing a remarkable salary for very little effort. Conversely, it’s also possible—”
“I think I know what the other possibility is,” interrupted Jefferson Cartwright. “As I see it, you’re lookin’ for information connected with the disappearance of your child. You may find it, if it exists. You may not. In either case, there’re twelve months remainin’ before the first of the bonds will be missed. Twelve months. Some of us might not be on God’s good earth then. Others of us could be facin’ ruin.”
“Are you forecasting my demise?”
“I certainly hope not. But my own position is most delicate. I’ve violated the policies of my firm and the basic ethics of the bankin’ business. As your son’s financial adviser, the aspect of collusion will be raised—”
“And you’d feel more comfortable with a settlement, is that it?” Elizabeth put down the letters, angry with this ungrateful Southerner. “I bribe you and you proceed to blackmail me on the strength of my bribe. It’s clever strategy. How much?”
“I’m sorry I make such a poor impression. I don’t want a settlement. That’d be demeanin’.”
“Then what do you want?” Elizabeth was becoming exasperated.
“I’ve prepared a statement. In triplicate. One copy for you, one for the Scarwyck Foundation, and one, of course, for my lawyer. I’d appreciate your perusin’ it for your approval.”
Cartwright withdrew the papers from his briefcase and placed them before Elizabeth. She picked up the top copy and saw that it was a letter of agreement, addressed to the Scarwyck Foundation.
This is to confirm an agreement between Mr. Jefferson Cartwright and myself, Mrs. Elizabeth Wyckham Scarlatti, in my position as chairman of the board of the Scarwyck Foundation, 525 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York.
Whereas, Mr. Cartwright has given generously of his time and professional services in my behalf and in behalf of the Scarwyck Foundation, it is agreed that he be made advisory consultant to the foundation with an annual salary of fifty thousand dollars ($50,000), said position to be held throughout his natural life. Said position to be made effective as of the. above date.
Whereas, Mr. Jefferson Cartwright often has acted in my behalf and in behalf of the Scarwyck Foundation against his better judgment and in opposition to his own wishes, and,
Whereas, Mr. Cartwright performed all services in the manner his client, myself, firmly believed was for the betterment of the Scarwyck Foundation, he did so without anticipating said responsibility and often without full knowledge of the transactions.
Therefore, it is agreed that should there be at any future dates any fines, penalties, or judgments against Mr. Cartwright evolving from such actions, they will be paid in full from my personal accounts.
It should be added that no such actions are anticipated, but as the interests of the Scarwyck Foundation are international in scope, the demands excessive, and decisions often subject to my own opinion, the inclusion of such a statement is deemed proper.
It should be noted that Mr. Cartwright’s exceptional services in my behalf have been rendered in confidence during the past months, but that from this date I have no objection to his position with the Scarwyck Foundation being made public knowledge.
There were two lines on the right for the signatures and a third line on the left for the signature of a witness. Elizabeth realized it was a professional document. It said nothing, but covered everything.
“You don’t seriously expect me to sign this?”
“I honestly do. You see, if you don’t, my overbearin’ sense of responsibility would make me go right to the authorities. No doubt direct to the office of the district attorney with information I believe relevant to Mr. Scarlett’s disappearance.… Can you imagine the international stir that would cause? The mere fact that the celebrated Madame Scarlatti was goin’ to question the banks where her son did business—”
“I’ll deny everything.”
“Unfortunately, you couldn’t deny the missin’ securities. They don’t have to be redeemed for a year, but they are missin’.”
Elizabeth stared at the Southerner, knowing she was beaten. She sat down and silently reached for a pen. She signed the papers as he in turn took each page and did the same.
CHAPTER 15
Elizabeth’s trunks were placed aboard the British liner Calpurnia. She had told her family that the events of the past few months had taken their toll of her patience and health and she planned an extended stay in Europe—by herself. She was sailing the next morning. Chancellor Drew agreed that a trip might be beneficial, but he strongly urged his mother to take along a companion. After all, Elizabeth was no longer young, and in her advanced years someone should accompany her. He suggested Janet.
Elizabeth suggested that Chancellor Drew save his suggestions for the Scarwyck Foundation, but the issue of Janet had to be faced.
She asked the girl to come to her house late in the afternoon two days before the Calpurnia sailed.
“The things you tell me are hard to believe, Janet. Not so much about my son, but about you. Did you love him?”
“Yes. J think so. Or perhaps I was overwhelmed by him. In the beginning there were so many people, so many places. Everything went so fast. And then I realized —slowly—that he didn’t like me. He couldn’t stand being in the same room with me. I was an irritating necessity. God! Don’t ask me why!”
Elizabeth remembered her son’s words. “It’s time I was married.… She’ll make me a good wife.” Why had he said those words? Why had it been so important to him?
“Was he faithful?”
The girl threw back her head and laughed. “Do you know what it’s like to share your husband with—well, you’re never quite sure?”
“The new psychology tells us that men often behave this way to compensate, Janet. To convince themselves that they’re—adequate.”
“Wrong again, Madame Scarlatti!” Janet emphasized Elizabeth’s name with slight contempt. “Your son was adequate. In the extreme. I suppose I shouldn’t say this, but we made love a great deal. The time, the place, it never mattered to Ulster. Or whether I wanted to or not. That was the last consideration. I mean I was the last consideration.”
“Why did you put up with him? That’s what I find difficult to understand.”
Janet Scarlett reached into her purse. She withdrew a pack of cigarettes and nervously lit one. “I’ve told you this much. Why not the rest.… I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought it out. Why don’t we call it—appearances.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, that strikes me as foolish.”
“You forget, I was the wife of the Ulster Stewart Scarlett. I’d caught him.… It’s not so easy to admit that I wasn’t able to hold him any longer than a few months.”
“I see your point.… We both know that a divorce on the grounds of assumed desertion would be best for you, but you’d be criticized unmercifully. It would appear to be in the poorest taste.”
“I know that. I’ve decided to wait until a year is up before I get the divorce. A year is a reasonable time. It would be understandable.”
“I’m not sure that would be in your interest.”
“Why not?”
“You’d completely separate yourself and partially separate your child from the Scarlatti family. I’ll be frank with you. I don’t trust Chancellor under these circumstances.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Once you made
the first move, he’d use every legal weapon available to have you declared unfit.”
“What!”
“He’d control both the child and the inheritance. Fortunately …”
“You’re mad!”
Elizabeth continued as if Janet had not interrupted. “Fortunately, Chancellor’s sense of propriety—which borders on the ridiculous—would prevent him from initiating action that might cause embarrassment. But if you provoked.… No, Janet, a divorce isn’t the answer.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?”
“I assure you I do.… If I could guarantee that I’d be alive a year from now I’d give you my blessing! I can’t do that. And without me to stop him, Chancellor would be a conniving wild animal!”
“There is nothing, nothing Chancellor can do to me! Or my child!”
“Please, my dear. I’m no moralist. But your behavior hasn’t been above reproach.”
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Janet rose from the sofa and opened her pocketbook, replacing the pack of cigarettes and taking out her gloves.
“I’m not making judgments. You’re an intelligent girl. Whatever you do, I’m sure there are reasons.… If it’s any comfort, I think you’ve spent a year in hell.”
“Yes. A year in hell.” Janet Scarlett began putting on her gloves.
Elizabeth spoke rapidly as she crossed to her desk by the window. “But let’s be candid. If Ulster were here, or in evidence anywhere, an uncontested divorce could be arranged quietly, without difficulty. After all, neither is without blemish. But, as the law says, one of the parties is removed, perhaps deceased, but not legally declared dead. And there’s a child, an only child. That child is Ulster’s heir. This, Janet, is the problem.”
Elizabeth wondered if the girl was beginning to understand. The trouble with the young rich, she decided, wasn’t that they took their money for granted, but that they couldn’t comprehend that money, though a by-product, was a true catalyst to power and, because of this, a frightening thing.
“Once you made the first move, the birds of prey from both camps would descend. In the final analysis, the Scarlatti name would become a joke in the back rooms of athletic clubs. And that I will not have!”
Elizabeth took out several folders from the desk drawer, selected one, and replaced the others. She sat down behind the desk and looked over at the girl.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I think I do,” the girl said slowly, looking down at her gloved hands. “You want to conveniently tuck me away out of sight so nothing can disturb your precious Scarletts.” She hesitated, lifting her head to return her mother-in-law’s gaze. “And J thought for a minute you were going to be kind.”
“You can’t very well qualify as a charity case,” said Elizabeth.
“No, I suppose not. But since I’m not looking for charity, that doesn’t matter, does it? I guess you’re trying to be kind, in your own way.”
“Then you’ll do as I suggest?” Elizabeth moved the folder to put it back in the drawer.
“No,” Janet Saxon Scarlett said firmly. “I’ll do exactly as I please. And I don’t think I’ll be a joke in athletic clubs.”
“Don’t be too sure of that!” Elizabeth slammed the folder back on the top of the desk.
“I’ll wait until a year is up,” said Janet, “and then do whatever I have to. My father will know what to do. I’ll do what he says.”
“Your father may have certain misgivings. He’s a businessman.”
“He’s also my father!”
“I can very well understand that, my dear. I understand it so well that I suggest you allow me to ask you several questions before you go.”
Elizabeth stood up and crossed to the library door. Closing it, she turned the brass lock.
Janet watched the old woman’s movement with as much curiosity as fear. It was not like her mother-in-law to be the least concerned about interruptions. Any unwanted intruder was promptly ordered out.
“There’s nothing more to say. I want to leave.”
“I agree. You have little to say,” broke in Elizabeth, who had returned to the desk. “You enjoyed Europe, my dear? Paris, Marseilles, Rome? I must say, though, New York’s apparently a dull place for you. I suppose under the circumstances there’s far more to offer across the ocean.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that. You seem to have enjoyed yourself somewhat unreasonably. My son found himself quite a likely playmate for his escapades. However, if I do say so, he was frequently less obvious than you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Elizabeth opened the folder and flipped over several pages. “Let’s see, now. There was a colored trumpet player in Paris.…”
“A what! What are you talking about?”
“He brought you back to your hotel, excuse me, yours and Ulster’s hotel, at eight o’clock in the morning. Obviously, you’d been with him all night.”
Janet stared at her mother-in-law in disbelief. Although dazed, she answered her rapidly, quietly. “Yes. Paris, yes! And I was with him, but not like that. I was trying to keep up with Ulster. Half the night trying to find him.”
“That fact doesn’t appear here. You were seen coming into the hotel with a colored man supporting you.”
“I was exhausted.”
“Drunk is the word used here.…”
“Then it’s a He!”
The old woman turned the page. “And then one week in the south of France? Do you remember that weekend, Janet?”
“No,” the girl answered hesitantly. “What are you doing? What have you got there?”
Elizabeth rose, holding the folder away from the girl’s eyes. “Oh, come now. That weekend at Madame Auriole’s. What do they call her chateau—the Silhouette? Quite a dramatic name.”
“She was a friend of Ulster!”
“And, of course, you had no idea what Auriole’s Silhouette meant, and still means, I believe, throughout the south of France.”
“You’re not suggesting that I had anything to do with any of that?”
“Just what did people mean when they said they went to Auriole’s Silhouette?”
“You can’t mean it.”
“What happens at Auriole’s Silhouette?” Elizabeth’s voice rose viciously.
“I don’t … don’t know. I don’t know!”
“What happens?”
“I won’t answer you!”
“That’s very prudent, but I’m afraid it won’t do! It’s common knowledge that the outstanding items on Madame Auriole’s menus are opium, hashish, marijuana, heroin … a haven for the users of every form of narcotics!”
“I did not know that!”
“You didn’t know anything about it? For an entire weekend? For three days during the height of her season?”
“No!… Yes, I found out and I left. I left as soon as I realized what they were doing!”
“Orgies for narcotics addicts. Marvelous opportunities for the sophisticated voyeur. Day and night. And Mrs. Scarlett knew nothing about it at all!”
“I swear I didn’t!”
Elizabeth’s voice changed to one of gentle firmness. “I’m sure you didn’t, my dear, but I don’t know who would believe you.” She paused briefly. “There’s a great deal more here.” She flipped the pages, sitting down once more behind the desk. “Berlin, Vienna, Rome. Particularly Cairo.”
Janet ran toward Elizabeth Scarlatti and leaned across the desk, her eyes wide with fright. “Ulster left me for almost two weeks! I didn’t know where he was. I was petrified!”
“You were seen going into the strangest places, my dear. You even committed one of the gravest international crimes. You bought another human being. You purchased a slave.”
“No! No, I didn’t! That’s not true!”
“Oh, yes, it is. You bought a thirteen-year-old Arab girl who was being sold into prostitution. As an American citizen there are specific
laws …”
“It’s a lie!” broke in Janet. “They told me that if I paid the money, the Arab could tell me where Ulster was! That’s all I did!”
“No, it wasn’t. You gave him a present. A little thirteen-year-old girl was your present to him and you know it. I wonder if you’ve ever thought about her.”
“I just wanted to find Ulster! I was sick when I found out. I didn’t understand! I didn’t even know what they were talking about! All I wanted to do was find Ulster and get out of that awful place!”
“I wouldn’t pretend to dispute you. Nevertheless, others would.”
“Who?” The girl was shaking.
“The courts, for one. Newspapers, for another.” Elizabeth stared at the frightened girl. “My friends.… Even your own friends.”
“And you would allow … someone to use those lies against me?”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“And against your own grandchild?”
“I doubt that he would be your child, legally, that is, for very long. I’m sure he’d be declared a ward of the court until it was determined that Chancellor was the proper guardian for him.”
Janet slowly sat down on the edge of the chair. Lips parted, she began to cry.
“Please, Janet. I’m not asking you to enroll in a nunnery. I’m not even asking you to do without the normal satisfactions of a woman of your age and appetites. You’ve hardly restricted yourself during the past several months, and I don’t expect you to now. I’m only asking a fair amount of discretion, perhaps a bit more than you’ve been exercising, and a healthy degree of physical caution. In the absence of the latter, immediate remedy.”
Janet Saxon Scarlett turned her head away, her eyes tightly shut. “You’re horrible,” she whispered.
“I imagine I appear that way to you now. Someday I hope you may reconsider.”
Janet sprang from the chair.
“Let me out of this house!”