Master of the Game

He had sent his father a wedding invitation, and the old man had not even bothered to reply. Not one word of congratulations. I never want to see you again, his father had told him. You're dead, you understand? Dead Well, his father was in for a surprise. The prodigal son was going to come to life again.

Alexandra's twenty-third birthday party was a great success. There were forty guests. She had asked George to invite some of his friends, but he had demurred. "It's your party, Alex," he said. "Let's just have your friends."

The truth was that George had no friends. He was a loner, he told himself proudly. People who were dependent on other people were weaklings. He watched as Alexandra blew out the candles on her cake and made a silent wish. He knew the wish involved him, and he thought, You should have wished for a longer life, darling. He had to admit that Alexandra was exquisite looking. She was wearing a long white chiffon dress with delicate silver slippers and a diamond necklace, a present from Kate. The large, pear-shaped stones were strung together on a platinum chain, and they sparkled in the candlelight.

Kate looked at them and thought, I remember our first anniversary, when David put that necklace on me and told me how much he loved me.

And George thought, That necklace must be worth a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

George had been aware all evening that several of Alexandra's female guests were eyeing him, smiling at him invitingly, touching him as they talked to him. Horny bitches, he thought contemptuously. Under other circumstances, he might have been tempted to risk it, but not with Alexandra's friends. They might not dare complain to Alexandra, but there was a chance they could go to the police. No, things were moving along too smoothly to take any unnecessary chances.

At one minute before ten o'clock, George positioned himself near the telephone. When it rang a minute later, he picked it up. "Hello."

"Mr. Mellis?"

"Yes."

"This is your answering service. You asked me to call you at ten o'clock."

Alexandra was standing near him. He looked over at her and frowned. "What time did he call?"

"Is this Mr. Mellis?"

"Yes."

"You left a ten o'clock call, sir."

Alexandra was at his side.

"Very well," he said into the phone. "Tell him I'm on my way. I'll meet him at the Pan Am Clipper Club."

George slammed the phone down.

"What's the matter, darling?"

He turned to Alexandra. "One of the idiot partners is on his way to Singapore and he left some contracts at the office that he needs to take with him. I've got to pick them up and get them to him before his plane leaves."

"Now?" Alexandra's voice was filled with dismay. "Can't someone else do it?"

"I'm the only one they trust," George sighed. "You'd think I was the only capable one in the whole office." He put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, darling. Don't let me spoil your party. You go on and I'll get back as soon as I can."

She managed a smile. "I'll miss you."

Alexandra watched him go, then looked around the room to make sure all her guests were enjoying themselves. She wondered what Eve was doing on their birthday.

Eve opened the door to let George in. "You managed," she said. "You're such a clever man."

"I can't stay, Eve. Alex is - "

She took his hand. "Come, darling. I have a surprise for you." She led him into the small dining room. The table was set for two, with beautiful silver and white napery and lighted candles in the center of the table.

"What's this for?"

"It's my birthday, George."

"Of course," he said lamely. "I - I'm afraid I didn't bring you a present."

She stroked his cheek. "Yes you did, love. You'll give it to me later. Sit down."

"Thanks," George said. "I couldn't eat anything. I just had a big dinner."

"Sit down." There was no inflection to her voice.

George looked into her eyes, and sat down.

Dinner consisted of Coquille Saint-Jacques, Chateaubriand, a bibb lettuce salad, Brie, cappuccino and a birthday cake with Neapolitan ice cream.

Eve sat across from him, watching George force the food down. "Alex and I have always shared everything," Eve told him. "Tonight I'm sharing her birthday dinner. But next year there will be just one of us having a birthday party. The time has come, darling, for my sister to have an accident. And after that, poor old Gran is going to die of grief. It's going to be all ours, George. Now, come into the bedroom and give me my birthday present."

He had been dreading this moment. He was a man, strong and vigorous, and Eve dominated him and made him feel impotent. She had him undress her slowly, and then she undressed him and skillfully excited him to an erection.

"There you are, darling." She got astride him and began slowly moving her hips. "Ah, that feels so good... You can't have an orgasm, can you, poor baby? Do you know why? Because you're a freak. You don't like women, do you, George? You only enjoy hurting them. You'd like to hurt me, wouldn't you? Tell me you'd like to hurt me."

"I'd like to kill you."

Eve laughed. "But you won't, because you want to own the company as much as I do... You'll never hurt me, George, be cause if anything ever happens to me, a friend of mine is holding a letter that will be delivered to the police."

He did not believe her. "You're bluffing."

Eve raked a long, sharp nail down his naked chest. "There's only one way you can find out, isn't there?" she taunted.

And he suddenly knew she was telling the truth. He was never going to be able to get rid of her! She was always going to be there to taunt him, to enslave him. He could not bear the idea of being at this bitch's mercy for the rest of his life. And something inside him exploded. A red film descended over his eyes, and from that moment on he had no idea what he was doing. It was as though someone outside himself was controlling him. Everything happened in slow motion. He remembered shoving Eve off him, pulling her legs apart and her cries of pain. He was battering at something over and over, and it was indescribably wonderful. The whole center of his being was racked with a long spasm of unbearable bliss, and then another, and another, and he thought, Oh, God! I've waited so long for this. From somewhere in the far distance, someone was screaming. The red film slowly started to clear, and he looked down. Eve was lying on the bed, covered with blood. Her nose was smashed in, her body was covered with bruises and cigarette burns and her eyes were swollen shut. Her jaw was broken, and she was whimpering out of the side of her mouth. "Stop it, stop it, stop it..."

George shook his head to clear it. As the reality of the situation hit him, he was filled with sudden panic. There was no way he could ever explain what he had done. He had thrown everything away. Everything!

He leaned over her. "Eve?"

She opened one swollen eye. "Doctor...Get...a...doc tor... "Each word was a drop of pain. "Harley...John Harley."

All George Mellis said on the phone was, "Can you come right away? Eve Blackwell has had an accident."

When Dr. John Harley walked into the room, he took one look at Eve and the blood-spattered bed and walls and said, "Oh, my God!" He felt Eve's fluttering pulse, and turned to George. "Call the police. Tell them we need an ambulance."

Through the mist of pain, Eve whispered, "John..."

John Harley leaned over the bed. "You're going to be all right. We'll get you to the hospital."

She reached out and found his hand. "No police..."

"I have to report this. I - "

Her grip tightened. "No...police..."

He looked at her shattered cheekbone, her broken jaw and the cigarette burns on her body. "Don't try to talk."

The pain was excruciating, but Eve was fighting for her life. "Please..." It took a long time to get the words out. "Private...Gran would never...forgive me... No...police... Hit...run...accident..."

There was no time to argue. Dr. Harley walked over to the telephone and dialed. "This is Dr. Harley." He gave Eve's address. "I want an ambulance sent here immediately. Find Dr. Keith Webster and ask him to meet me at the hospital. Tell him it's an emergency. Have a room prepared for surgery." He listened a moment, then said, "A hit-and-run accident." He slammed down the receiver.

"Thank you, Doctor," George breathed.

Dr. Harley turned to look at Alexandra's husband, his eyes filled with loathing. George's clothes had been hastily donned, but his knuckles were raw, and his hands and face were still spattered with blood. "Don't thank me. I'm doing this for the Blackwells. But on one condition. That you agree to see a psychiatrist."

"I don't need a - "

"Then I'm calling the police, you sonofabitch. You're not fit to be running around loose." Dr. Harley reached for the telephone again.

"Wait a minute!" George stood there, thinking. He had almost thrown everything away, but now, miraculously, he was being given a second chance. "All right. I'll see a psychiatrist."

In the far distance they heard the wail of a siren.

She was being rushed down a long tunnel, and colored lights were flashing on and off. Her body felt light and airy, and she thought, I can fly if I want to, and she tried to move her arms, but something was holding them down. She opened her eyes, and she was speeding down a white corridor on a gurney being wheeled by two men in green gowns and caps. I'm starring in a play, Eve thought. I can't remember my lines. What are my lines? When she opened her eyes again, she was in a large white room on an operating table.

A small, thin man in a green surgical gown was leaning over her. "My name is Keith Webster. I'm going to operate on you."

"I don't want to be ugly," Eve whispered. It was difficult to talk. "Don't let me be...ugly."

"Not a chance," Dr. Webster promised. "I'm going to put you to sleep now. Just relax."

He gave a signal to the anesthesiologist.

George managed to wash the blood off himself and clean up in Eve's bathroom, but he cursed as he glanced at his wrist-watch. It was three o'clock in the morning. He hoped Alexandra was asleep, but when he walked into their living room, she was waiting for him.

"Darling! I've been frantic! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Alex."

She went up to him and hugged him. "I was getting ready to call the police. I thought something terrible had happened."

How right you are, George thought.

"Did you bring him the contracts?"

"Contracts?" He suddenly remembered. "Oh, those. Yes. I did." That seemed like years ago, a lie from the distant past.

"What on earth kept you so late?"