Story of a Sociopath

  I, however, had no regrets. I would do the same thing again a thousand times, even knowing that the end result would be Yoko’s death.

  Nataly looked at me, awaiting my answer. She didn’t know what to expect from me.

  If I were a good man, I would have put my hand on her shoulder and offered words that would have helped to restore her inner peace:

  “Don’t blame yourself, dear, you had nothing to do with what happened. The information you gave me was irrelevant, it was within anyone’s reach. Do you think it would have been difficult to find out that Yoko had a boyfriend?

  “Yes, she felt overwhelmed by me and I never loosened my grip. It’s not something I’m proud of; I shouldn’t have gotten involved in her life. But that’s my responsibility, not yours. Don’t blame yourself for anything, there’s no reason to. Yoko chose to die to get away from me. You had nothing to do with her decision.

  “I’m not going to insist that you come to a private room with me. You’re right, we both remind each other of Yoko. I give you my word, I won’t bother you again.”

  —

  But I didn’t say any of that. What I did was grab her by the wrists and pull her toward me to whisper in her ear that if she didn’t come with me, I would tell Madame Agnès and the rest of the girls that she had sold out Yoko, that she had spied on her for me.

  “You know what’ll happen. Madame Agnès will fire you and the girls won’t ever forgive you. Madame does not allow indiscretions, much less a girl spying on another in exchange for a client’s money.

  “If you don’t come with me you’ll never be able to work here again. Oh, and I’ll make sure your family and friends at school find out that you’re a prostitute.”

  Nataly went pale. Her eyes filled with tears and I relished the thought that I’d broken her. But what happened next was something I never would have imagined.

  She didn’t even give me time to react. Little Nataly punched me, causing me more embarrassment than pain. I felt all eyes upon us. The other customers and girls were silent, watching us, waiting to see what we would do.

  Nataly was also waiting. She wasn’t scared. She didn’t even seem worried.

  “If I were you, Thomas, I’d leave now and never come back to this house. But if what you want is to get back at me, be my guest. I myself will help you tell Madame Agnès and the girls what a miserable pair we are. I gave you my dignity once, but you won’t have it again.”

  Madame Agnès marched toward us. She was livid. There had never been a scene like this at her house.

  “What the devil is going on here? Nataly, you’ll need to explain yourself…And you, Mr. Spencer…Please, both of you, meet me in the library.”

  Madame turned on her heel, smiling at the gentlemen and girls who were craning their heads for an explanation.

  “Nothing to worry about, ladies and gentlemen. Please, carry on talking.”

  Nataly darted to the library ahead of us. I sauntered after her, savoring the moment. I took for granted that I could humiliate Nataly and that Madame Agnès would fire her immediately.

  Roy approached me, looking furious. “What is wrong with you? Have you gone mad? How could you think of starting a scandal with that girl?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s all right,” I said, trying to downplay the significance of what had happened.

  “You’ve managed to get everyone to notice us and the worst thing is that tonight there are a couple of members of Parliament here who know me. Care to explain what happened?”

  “Nothing of consequence, nothing that can affect your good reputation. Let me sort this out, Roy. Go and enjoy the night with that brunette you’re with.”

  He did as I said, and left me to it. But I couldn’t ignore the stares along my way. Some men looked at me in disgust and the girls seemed upset.

  When I went into the library Madame Agnès closed the door. Nataly was standing, waiting expectantly, but did not seem afraid.

  “Nataly just told me something that…my God, I should have realized!” Madame Agnès lamented.

  “I don’t know what this girl told you,” I said with marked contempt, looking at Nataly.

  “That she spied on Yoko for you in exchange for money. You turned Yoko’s life into a living hell until the poor girl…had the tragic accident. And tonight…tonight your behavior has been anything but gentlemanly, Mr. Spencer. You know that as a norm in this house my guests act freely, both the gentlemen and the young ladies. Nobody is obliged to do anything.”

  “Madame Agnès, leave the euphemisms aside. You run a whorehouse. Nataly is a whore and she is the one I want to sleep with tonight. I won’t take no for an answer from a whore, not even from you.”

  But I had been mistaken about what would happen. Madame Agnès gulped and then looked daggers at me with her feline eyes. She seemed at a loss for words and hesitated for a second. When she did speak, she struck me down.

  “Mr. Spencer, get out of my house and don’t ever come back again. You are no longer welcome. I always thought you were not really a gentleman—that you were nothing but a rich con man. Your behavior has been deplorable tonight, and many other nights as well, I’m afraid. I don’t even want to find out what Nataly told you about Yoko, but now I know why she seemed nervous every time she saw you. She didn’t like you. I noticed this and on one occasion even reminded her that she didn’t have to be with you. She told me not to worry. And now, unfortunately, she is gone. Get out of my house.”

  “I see, so now the queen of the whorehouse is playing Boston Brahmin. Don’t do that, Madame, you look like a cartoon. You were a hooker in your youth and now you’re their procurer. I’m paying to be here, and if you don’t want to cause a major scandal, don’t even think of trying to kick me out. I will leave when I want to and return whenever I please.” I looked at her with such scorn that she took a step back, but she soon recovered.

  “Mr. Spencer, get out. If I have to call the police, I will. And if I have to ask a friend of mine to investigate Yoko’s death again, I will. I don’t think your wife would like to see your face in the Times in relation to the death of a girl.”

  “And yours, Madame? Do you think you can keep your house from being found out for what it is, a den of whores?”

  “I told you he wasn’t a good person,” Nataly spat, looking me over disdainfully.

  “You be quiet. What you did to Yoko is unforgivable. I don’t ever want you here again either. I’ll pay you for tonight and I hope this will be the last I see of you,” Madame Agnès told Nataly.

  We were both silent, gazing measuredly at each other. Madame Agnès left the library without another word and returned two minutes later accompanied by Roy Parker, in which time Nataly took the opportunity to get away.

  “Madame Agnès has sent me to ask you to leave. Get out of here, Thomas.” Roy’s tone was marked by violence.

  “What if I don’t want to leave?”

  “I will personally kick you out. You decide. I thought you were smarter than this, that you could tell when you’ve outstayed your welcome. Don’t create trouble for me, Thomas. This will not benefit any of us. Get out.”

  I weighed his gaze and saw that he was willing to punch me if necessary. In his eyes there wasn’t an iota of understanding or sympathy toward me.

  I didn’t say goodbye. I left. I realized that Roy had no choice but to turn against me. I decided that there would be payback later.

  When I got back to the apartment, Esther was reading in bed. She was surprised to see me. She said she thought I would be back late, considering that Roy was the kind who never wanted to go home. I was in a foul mood and ignored her. She glanced at me without emotion. She couldn’t care less about the cause of my agitation.

  I sat in the living room for a long time, knocking back a few whiskeys, but not enough to get blind drunk.

  Esther got up early. She didn’t ask me who was calling my cell with such insistence and why I wasn’t picking up.

  I looked at the scre
en; it was Constance. She hadn’t stopped calling me since I’d left New York. I hadn’t returned her calls, and the voice messages she’d been leaving me were pathetic.

  She’d say she loved me more than she loved her husband and her own daughter, begging me to take her back, and then she’d insult me, threatening to tell everyone about our relationship. I put the phone on mute and decided to continue sleeping for a while longer, at least until Esther came out of the bathroom.

  —

  I didn’t talk to Roy again until his wedding, which I attended without any enthusiasm. For Esther it was also a formality that we had to see through. She thanked Evelyn for choosing her as a witness, but in reality she was indifferent.

  Roy and I exchanged a tense handshake and waited at the door of the venue for Evelyn to arrive with Esther. We had to wait ten minutes, and if it hadn’t been for Cooper and Maggie, Roy and I would not have said a single word. We were angry at each other. Not a definitive fallout, but we didn’t feel at ease. The ceremony was brief and, to my surprise, Maggie got emotional. I guess the witch had a heart after all and appreciated Evelyn, whom she had seen go from ugly duckling to lucky swan.

  As Evelyn was saying I do, my phone started to vibrate. Later I saw that the call had been from Constance. In her voice message she said that I had one hour to respond or she would do something terrible. I believed her.

  As soon as we arrived at the Dorchester I looked for a quiet place where I could speak to her. I was scared when I heard her. Her voice was croaky. She said she had taken a couple of pills to calm down. She started to cry. I had to promise her that we would see each other as soon as I got back to New York.

  “When will that be?” she sobbed.

  “I have work, Constance. I can’t just drop everything. I think we’ll be in London for a few more days.”

  “But how many days?” she insisted.

  “Three or four, I don’t know. Don’t worry, we’ll talk when I get back.”

  “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

  “Please, Constance. I’m at the Dorchester, at a friend’s wedding. I can’t talk at all now, much less about personal issues.”

  “Tell me you’re not going to leave me!” she shrieked, hysterical.

  “If you scream and don’t calm yourself down we won’t see each other again,” I threatened, knowing that it was the only thing I could do to keep her under control.

  “I am calm…I am calm…But we have to talk. I’m leaving Ralph.”

  “Don’t do anything, Constance, don’t say anything; wait for me to get back. Promise me you won’t do anything until we talk, or you won’t see me again. I don’t like being pressured or having people threaten me. You know that.”

  “I promise, Thomas. Do you love me?”

  “How could you ask me that question?” I responded, to avoid having to confirm what she feared.

  A midafternoon cocktail reception has the advantage of not lasting very long. A couple of hours later we were done. The newlyweds were planning to have dinner alone. They were flying to Delhi the next day. Evelyn wanted to spend her honeymoon in India.

  Neither Esther nor I wanted to stay in London any longer, so we remained for only one more day. “You barely ever come,” Cooper complained, under Maggie’s watchful gaze. Although she didn’t utter a single word, her facial expression was a declaration of what she was thinking.

  What really bothered Cooper was having to wait for Evelyn’s return to recruit interns, whose mere presence would make him feel important because, officially, he was going to be the head of the agency.

  Cooper had a few ideas to grow our business and needed people, but Evelyn’s work was more flexible: she was now just in charge of training the interns. Without that duty, her presence at the agency would no longer make sense. In fact, she knew it was a sham job and that if we hadn’t fired her it was only to keep Roy as a client. What Roy Parker paid us monthly covered the entire running costs of the agency.

  I was starting to prefer New York more and more. Though I didn’t have any especially pleasant childhood memories tying me to it, it was my city. I suppose my attachment to it has been due, in the past as in the present, to the fact that New Yorkers are more communicative and less formal than the British.

  As soon as we landed at the airport and went through customs I asked Esther to wait a few minutes while I went to the bathroom. I was worried that Constance would follow through with one of her threats. I wanted to call her to let her know that I was already in the city. Perhaps that would calm her down.

  I called a few times, but she didn’t answer. I feared the worst. That birdbrain was capable of anything.

  When we arrived at home, I felt immediately at ease. I could take refuge in my office and not feel Esther’s eyes upon me all the time. I guess she felt the same. It had become a necessity for each of us to have our own space.

  I called Constance again. I was startled to hear the voice of Ralph Morgan.

  “Who is this?” he roared, though of course my name had appeared on the screen.

  “It’s Thomas Spencer, Ralph. We just got back from London and we have a present for Ellen. I wanted to ask Constance whether there’s a good time for us to bring it.”

  “Nice to hear from you, Thomas, and thank you for thinking of Ellen. Constance isn’t home; she left her phone behind and that’s why I answered. I’ll tell her to call you and I hope we see each other soon. Carter says we should continue to work with your agency. You guys are good. How is Esther, by the way?”

  “Well, she’s looking forward to seeing you and Constance soon.”

  “We’ll meet up soon, Thomas. We’ll call you.”

  When he hung up I sighed with relief. The lie I improvised seemed to have worked, although now I’d have to find some present that said “Made in England” to give to little Ellen.

  Later I told Esther that we should have gotten a present for the Morgans’ daughter.

  “Why should we have done that? They aren’t our friends, we’ve only done a campaign for them.”

  Esther drew a clear line between work and personal relationships. She liked the Morgans, but they were in the work circle, and although she was sorry about Ellen’s illness, she didn’t feel emotionally close to the family.

  “You see, I told the girl once that if I went to London I would bring her a present. It was silly and I only now realize that I didn’t, but I wouldn’t want to disappoint her. The Morgans will continue to be our clients and they’ll like it if we’re considerate of their daughter.”

  “Especially Constance. She’s a strange woman, although she likes you. Okay, I’ll figure out where we can get some British trinket. Are you going to sleep for a bit or are you coming to the agency?”

  “I’d rather work from home. I’ll go in in the afternoon. Unless there’s something urgent that requires us to go now?”

  “Paul wants me to look over a campaign before presenting it to the clients. You know, the one for the washing machines.”

  “You don’t need me for that, so if you don’t mind I’ll stay at home.”

  She didn’t mind. She had showered and was dressed in a pantsuit, ready to work her fingers to the bone.

  As soon as she left the house I thought about going to the Morgans’ house. But I didn’t. I knew that would be reckless. I phoned Olivia, who, without enthusiasm, invited me for brunch at her apartment. Well, actually, my apartment, because I was the one who was paying for it. On the way to her house I stopped by a store specializing in tea. I thought I might find something typically British in there. I bought a teacup with a saucer. It had a childish design, I think with a teddy bear wearing a Union Jack.

  Talking to Olivia was always liberating. I didn’t need to lie to her about my relations with other women. She knew I’d been sleeping with Constance for months, and it didn’t worry her in the slightest. She had actually become my best adviser and didn’t mind suggesting ways I could seduce the women I wanted to sleep with. br />
  Olivia knew that her intelligence tied me to her more than her creamy skin and green eyes. Those I could have found in others, but what I couldn’t do was open up to just anyone.

  “Constance has become a problem and if you want to get rid of her you will have to make her believe she is the one who is leaving you,” she suggested, as she nibbled on a slice of toast with salmon.

  “And how can I convince her? That woman has lost her mind. I think she’ll end up telling her husband that she’s been sleeping with me, and if that happens, Esther will find out.”

  “Which is the only thing that worries you,” she remarked, throwing me a very serious look.

  “I’m not going to lose Esther because of Constance or any other woman. I’d sooner see the other woman dead.”

  “Very dramatic, but illogical. You know something? The only woman in the world who disconcerts me is your wife. Esther must be extraordinary for a guy like you to be trembling at the possibility of losing her. She’s the only chink in your armor.”

  “I wasn’t joking when I said I’d be capable of murder if someone tried to separate me from Esther.”

  She believed me. She read in my face that I really was capable of anything if it meant keeping Esther.

  “You should go for women who are less difficult, like me. Women who know what to expect with you, who can keep a cool head and not depend on you emotionally. Poor Constance must be very lonely and very desperate to love you. Anyway, what’s important now is for you to find a way out of this mess.”

  “Any ideas?” I asked, in the hope that she might help me.

  “Well, I don’t know…Perhaps you could convince her how much her husband loves her and insist that her daughter needs her and that it would be harmful to them if she abandoned them. Tell her that if she does that, she’ll never forgive you, and that you won’t be able to build your happiness together on others’ misfortune. Something like that might work.”