Story of a Sociopath

  “And how did you find all that out?” I asked him, truly astonished.

  “You have to know everything about your clients,” Paul replied, downplaying the importance of this information.

  “He likes Esther,” I said, to see whether he had noticed.

  “Yes, he likes independent women who are confident, strong, and compelling. And your wife has really improved physically. You have to acknowledge that money suits her. She looks very attractive in those high heels she’s started wearing.”

  “Ralph isn’t Esther’s type,” I told him, annoyed.

  “You can never tell with women…” he remarked. “But I suppose that Esther must have married you for something other than your money, although I have to admit that I can’t find a single virtue in your character to justify what she’s done.” He laughed with more sincerity than I would have liked.

  Esther was upset with Paul and me. Ralph invited her to lunch and we both asked her to accept the invitation without giving her any clues as to what our candidate wanted.

  When she got back from lunch she was furious. She walked straight into my office without knocking.

  “Don’t ever do that to me again, Thomas, not you or that crook Paul. You set a trap for me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean…Have a seat and tell me what’s up,” I said, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

  “I will not agree to advising Constance. That’s Carter’s job. I’ve already told Ralph Morgan that we are not going to change our position. We are not going to get involved in politics, not for him or for anyone else.”

  “And advising Constance is getting involved in politics? Come on, Esther, don’t exaggerate! It’s a matter of explaining to her how valuable her help is, how much Ralph needs her, nothing more. No need to be so mad.”

  “Nothing more? Do you think I’m stupid? They need Constance to play the part of self-sacrificing wife and mother, for her to parade her sick daughter around. It’s disgusting!”

  “That’s what campaigns are like, it all adds up,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Then Carter can do it—he’s the campaign manager. I don’t know why you have to do it.”

  “Well, it seems that Constance likes me, and Carter says she’ll listen to me.”

  “Yes, that’s what Ralph says. But it’s not a good enough reason. You’re not going to become her personal adviser. No way.”

  “They’ve asked us a favor, Esther, one very simple favor: that I have a conversation with Constance and make her see how important she is to the campaign. That’s all.”

  “Someone else can do it,” she replied furiously.

  “Ralph says it’s more likely that Constance will listen to someone external. Furthermore…well, from what Paul’s told me, she doesn’t get along with Carter, so she’ll try to boycott anything he suggests.”

  “Haven’t you learned your lesson? When you got personally involved with Roy and Suzi Parker, it led to undesirable consequences for us. Morgan and his wife are both grown-ups. We are not going to get mixed up in their personal issues. Not this time, Thomas. If you do it…”

  “Then what?” I asked her in a low voice.

  “I’ll resign; I will no longer work on this campaign. You and Paul will do it all.”

  We looked at each other, sizing each other up. We both knew that if there was a clash between us it could spell the end of our relationship. If she had been another woman I would have hit her, but I held myself back as on so many other occasions. I took a deep breath, buying myself time before replying.

  “All right, Esther. I won’t do anything you don’t like. You’re placing too much significance on whether or not I have a conversation with Constance, but if it bothers you so much, I won’t do it. Happy?”

  “It’s not about being happy, Thomas. I want you to understand…” Esther’s tone of voice indicated that she was somewhat placated.

  “I’ve got a lot of work. Let’s forget about it.”

  I had no intention of respecting her wishes, of course. I liked Constance and her husband had opened the door of their home to me. I would have to have been very stupid not to try to seduce his wife.

  I called Carter to tell him that I couldn’t meet with Constance officially. Esther had vetoed our intervention in the political part of the campaign.

  “If you arrange a way for me to see her, I’ll try to make her understand how important it is for her to support Ralph. But it can’t be official. Tell Ralph.”

  Carter told me that Ralph was fascinated by Esther.

  “If you weren’t both happily married and he weren’t a candidate for Congress, I would tell you to be careful. He says that your wife has a great personality. Just what his wife lacks.”

  His tone of voice was cutting. He seemed irritated that Ralph should find Esther irresistible.

  “You said it, Carter, we’re both happily married. Ralph would need to be more than a guy with ambition for Esther to pay him any attention. Don’t assume the whole world is as in love with him as you are.”

  He was silent. I listened to his breathing on the telephone line. I had been right without expecting to be, without realizing what I had said. Perhaps my subconscious had noticed what I hadn’t: that Nicholas Carter was in love with Ralph Morgan.

  “Let’s leave it, Thomas.” And he hung up.

  When I told Paul, he started laughing at me.

  “Come on, son, don’t tell me that you hadn’t realized until now. It seems to me that Carter’s still in the closet, at least mostly. He must have always been in love with Ralph, and Ralph knows it and plays with his head. It’s not that he gives him hope, but you know there’s nothing more enduring than an impossible love.”

  “You could have told me,” I said.

  “Well, it’s not like Carter walks around with a sign declaring that he’s gay. In fact, he tries to hide it. And I’m not entirely sure he is, even though he isn’t married and he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Plus, I don’t go around telling people about other people’s sexual preferences.”

  “I’m not people, Paul. You should have told me, just as you told me why Constance doesn’t like him.”

  “I’m not entirely certain it’s true. It’s just intuition. I’ve watched them. Carter looks at Ralph like he’s besotted and Ralph lets himself be loved. He pats him on the knee, he puts an arm around his shoulders like they’re two pals who’ve just left a baseball game. At one point I even started wondering if…well, it’s stupid.”

  “Do you think they’re seeing each other? That really would be something!”

  “No, I don’t think so, but…they’re a very strange trio. Constance hates Carter too much for it to be solely because he gave Ralph some questionable advice many years ago. And it wasn’t such a crazy thing to suggest—it’s what any friend would say in a situation like that.”

  “So those two…A pair of queens!” I said, laughing.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Thomas. Don’t turn my conjectures into truths. Watch them and draw your own conclusions.”

  —

  Esther thought she’d won the battle so we didn’t talk about either Constance or Ralph again. She continued managing the logistics of his public appearances while I waited for the right moment to make my move on Constance. I hadn’t heard from Carter since our phone conversation. Or Ralph. That’s why I was surprised when, a couple of weeks later, Esther told me that the Morgans had invited us to a barbecue at their home.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s spring and it seems he wants to have a party for everyone who’s been working on his campaign, including us. It seemed wrong to reject the invitation. If you don’t want to go, I can go with Paul.”

  “We’ll go. If you think it’s a good idea, we’ll go.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with going to their home on an occasion like this,” Esther insisted.

  “Of course not.”

  Paul came to pick us up. He had
just bought himself a new car, the latest model Ford Mustang. He wanted to show it to us.

  The Morgans had invited around thirty guests—young men and women who were enthusiastic collaborators on the campaign. Ralph greeted us at the door with his best smile. Constance stood at his side with a bored expression and her gaze fixed on her daughter, Ellen.

  A couple of waiters were wandering around the garden carrying trays of drinks while a chef concentrated on arranging large steaks on the grill.

  Everyone seemed happy. The young people were bubbling with enthusiasm and looked at Ralph with admiration. He doled out smiles and affectionate gestures to one after another.

  Esther went over to Constance. She suddenly seemed very interested in talking to her. I watched them out of the corner of my eye; they were chatting in a friendly manner. Ellen joined her mother. She seemed tired.

  In the meantime Paul was busy making a play for one of the girls who worked on Morgan’s campaign, a brunette with long legs and short hair.

  Carter came over to me. He looked at me, trying to transform his grimace of disgust into a hypocritical smile.

  “It’s good to see you, Thomas.”

  “Looks like a fun party,” I commented, to fill the silence.

  “I thought Ralph needed to open his home to the team. This will motivate them even more because they’ll feel like they’re being given special treatment, like they’re more than just cogs in the electoral machine, which is what they are.”

  “And Constance?” I asked.

  “Ah, she agreed. Unwillingly, but at least she didn’t say no. She even agreed to let Ellen stay for a while. She seems very absorbed in her conversation with your wife.”

  Yes, the two seemed to be enjoying their conversation. I saw Constance laugh at something Esther was saying to her.

  What could they be talking about? The two women couldn’t have been more different.

  Constance was a typical middle-class American woman, white skin, smooth blonde hair, perfect teeth. Neither very stupid nor very smart. Married to a man with a promising future.

  Esther was a fighter. Everything she had achieved had been through her own efforts, her hard work and her talent. And she had paid a price for all of it. I was part of that price.

  No, they had nothing in common and yet there they were, chatting as if they were friends.

  Ralph went over to them and Constance took Ellen by the hand. She went into the house with her daughter.

  I followed them as far as the kitchen, where a woman was arranging clean glasses on a tray.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to find you here. I wanted a glass of water. There’s only beer and whiskey out there,” I said unconvincingly.

  The woman in charge of the kitchen handed me a glass of water without saying anything.

  “I’m going to give Ellen a glass of milk and then she’ll go take a nap. She’s tired,” replied Constance, as if I’d asked her what she was doing there.

  “Of course, that’s best. Do you like stories, Ellen?” I asked her, unsure of what else to say to the kid.

  “Yes, my mom tells me one every night. But that won’t be possible tonight; she needs to stay with the guests. She’ll tell me two tomorrow.”

  “That sounds fair. Sleep well, beautiful.”

  They left the kitchen and I stayed where I was, lingering. I was hoping that Constance would come back. She did—sooner than expected.

  “Don’t you want to be in the garden?” she asked, without looking at me.

  I followed her. She stopped at the doorway that led from the family room to the garden. I didn’t move either.

  “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself much,” I stated.

  “No, not really. This party is Carter’s idea.”

  “And don’t you think it’s a good idea? I do. This will help to energize the young people working for the campaign. You make a very charming family.”

  “Do we? Well, we put on a good show.”

  I didn’t respond. I knew that if I did, she would backtrack. Constance needed to unburden herself, but if anyone insisted on it, she would clam up.

  “Will my husband become a congressman?” she asked without enthusiasm.

  “He’s got a lot of good qualities as a candidate and has a good chance. If he doesn’t make any mistakes…”

  “Why would he make mistakes? Carter conducts the orchestra and we all play our parts. We don’t improvise.”

  “Well, it’s just that you don’t seem exactly happy…”

  “Should I?”

  “It would really help. But it’s up to you. I’m not the head of the campaign, so I’ll refrain from offering advice.”

  “Your wife said the same, that your agency isn’t involved in politics, that that’s Carter’s area.”

  “I saw you talking earlier, you seemed to be getting along well.”

  “Yes…Well, we barely know each other, but she seems like a very understanding woman. I like her. You’re lucky.”

  “Yes, I think so. How about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Are you lucky? Are you happy?”

  “Two very personal questions for a mere acquaintance to ask.” Her voice was severe, like a teacher scolding a student.

  “You’re right. Pardon me…I hope I haven’t offended you,” I apologized.

  She kept staring at me. She was sizing me up, deciding whether she ought to reply. She sighed as if she weren’t sure what she should do.

  “I don’t know if I’m lucky. Am I lucky to be married to a handsome guy? Am I lucky that he always does his duty? Am I lucky that all that connects us is Ellen’s illness? Am I lucky that he’s pleasant and well-mannered? Am I lucky that he never criticizes me for anything? Yes, you could say that I’m lucky. Ralph never does anything wrong.”

  “Well, then you’re lucky,” I admitted.

  “Yes, perhaps. As for whether I’m happy…I’m married to the man I chose. He’s a good father and a pleasant husband.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “What do you want me to say? I don’t know what happiness is…Well, when I was younger I had a rough idea. To me, being in love seemed exciting, I thought that it would mean living in paradise forever. I imagined a relationship full of passion, of…What stupid things I’m saying! I don’t know why we’re talking about all this.”

  “Well, I’m interested in what you’re saying. You know something? The first day I saw you I realized that you were different…I don’t know, but you haven’t seemed happy, and I don’t just mean because of Ellen’s illness. Forgive me for being so honest. I don’t have the right to say such personal things to you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Paul came over to us. He was holding the hand of the leggy brunette. He winked at me, wanting to make it clear that he had hooked up with the girl.

  “A wonderful party, Mrs. Morgan. It’s a pleasure to see so many young people working toward the same dream. May’s been telling me how much they all admire Ralph.” Paul looked enthusiastically at the girl.

  “You can’t do anything without a dream,” Constance murmured.

  “Of course not,” May joined in, “and I assure you, Mrs. Morgan, that Ralph has infected us with his dream. We know that when he gets to Capitol Hill he’ll bring the voice of the people,” she declared very seriously.

  “Well, let’s leave the politics for another time. This is a party—we should be celebrating. Don’t you think so?” I interrupted them, hoping that Paul would go off with his brunette and leave me alone with Constance.

  Paul looked at me and gave a smile. He’d gotten the message.

  “Thomas is right, sweetheart. Let’s go get another beer and another couple of ribs. They’re delicious.”

  When we were alone I saw that Constance was smiling. She seemed relieved not to have to string together a conversation with Paul and the girl.

  “You got them to leave you in peace,” she murmured.

  “Yes,
banalities irritate me and the terrible thing about these parties is that all you say and hear are banalities.”

  “Aren’t you a banal man?”

  “I hope not, Constance.”

  “And are you happy?”

  “You’re asking me my own question?”

  “Are you happy with your wife?”

  “You said it before, I’m lucky to be married to her. She’s an exceptional woman, intelligent, hardworking, a good companion.”

  “I’m talking about love, Thomas.”

  “I know, Constance, and I’m saying what I can say. Let’s leave it there.”

  I was being more sincere than she could imagine. But more importantly, I was casting my net so she would let herself be caught. That woman was crying out for an affair, something that would take her away from her routine, her boring life, and her emotionally distant husband.

  Ralph had been watching us. He didn’t seem disturbed to see us together. He waved and smiled from the other end of the garden. Carter was beside him. He said something to him. Who knows what?

  The next day Paul turned up in my office. He had bags under his eyes. He still smelled of alcohol but he seemed happy.

  “What a night! That girl was worth it. Don’t you go thinking it was easy to get her into my bed.”

  “I’m not surprised—you’d have to be pretty desperate to get into your bed and she didn’t seem too desperate to me.”

  “Don’t be unpleasant, Thomas. How about you? Tell me everything. Mrs. Morgan was delighted with you. She didn’t take her eyes off you after your little chat. I think her husband noticed, but he doesn’t seem particularly worried.”

  “Don’t talk trash, Paul.”

  “Listen, you can’t fool me. You’ll get her into bed if you can. And I don’t think you’ll find it difficult. That woman is practically begging for a man to pay her some attention.”

  “She has a husband.”

  “So what? Make sure Esther doesn’t find out.”

  “What is there for her to find out?”

  “That you’ve set your sights on Constance Morgan. Esther may be playing the fool when it comes to Olivia, but she isn’t one.”