The Last Don - Mario Puzo [139]
“That is not one of my many weaknesses,” Athena said. Now she turned her head from the ocean so that she could look directly into his eyes. “Claudia told me the Studio reneged on their deal once my husband killed himself. You had to give them back the picture and take a percentage.”
Cross kept his face impassive. He hoped to banish everything he was feeling about her. “I guess I’m not a very good businessman,” he said. He wanted to give her the impression that he was ineffective.
“Molly Flanders wrote your contract,” Athena said. “She’s the best. You could have held on.”
Cross shrugged. “A matter of politics. I want to get into the movie business permanently and didn’t want enemies as powerful as Loddstone Studios.”
“I could help you,” Athena said. “I could refuse to return to the picture.”
Cross felt a thrill that she would do that for him. He considered the offer. The Studio might still take him to court. Also, he could not bear to make Athena put him in her debt. And then it occurred to him that though Athena was beautiful that didn’t mean she was not clever.
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
Athena got up from her chair and moved to stand close to the picture window. The beaches were gray shadows, the sun had disappeared, and the ocean seemed to reflect the mountain ranges behind her house and the Pacific Coast Highway. She gazed out toward the now blue-black water, the small waves rippling in slyly. She did not turn her head to him when she said, “Why would I do that? Simply because I knew Boz Skannet better than anybody. And I don’t care if he left a hundred suicide notes, he would never kill himself.”
Cross shrugged. “Dead is dead,” he said.
“That’s true,” Athena said. She turned to face him, looked directly at him. “You buy the picture and suddenly Boz conveniently commits suicide. You’re my candidate as the killer.” Even stern, her face was so beautiful to Cross that his voice was not as steady as he would have wished.
“How about the Studio?” Cross said. “Marrion is one of the most powerful men in the country. What about Bantz and Skippy Deere?”
Athena shook her head. “They understood what I was asking them. Just as you did. They didn’t do it, they sold the picture to you. They didn’t care if I was killed after the picture was finished, but you did. And I knew you would help me even when you said you couldn’t. When I heard about you buying the picture, I knew exactly what you would do, but I must say I didn’t think you could be so clever.”
Suddenly she came toward him and he rose from his chair. She took his hands in hers. He could smell her body, her breath.
Athena said, “That was the only evil thing I have ever done in my life. Making somebody commit murder. It was terrible. I would have been a much better person if I had done it myself. But I couldn’t.”
Cross said, “Why were you so sure I would do something?”
Athena said, “Claudia told me so much about you. I understood who you were but she’s so naÏve, she still hasn’t caught on. She thinks you’re just a tough guy with a lot of clout.”
Cross became very alert. She was trying to get him to admit his guilt. Something he would never do even to a priest, not even to God himself.
Athena said, “And the way you looked at me. A lot of men have looked at me that way. I’m not being immodest, I know I’m beautiful, people have been telling me that since I was a child. I always knew I had power, but I could never really understand that power. I’m not really happy with it but I use it. What they call ‘love.’ ”
Cross let go of her hands. “Why were you so afraid of your husband? Because he could ruin your career?”
For one moment there was a flash of anger in her eyes. “It wasn’t my career,” she said, “and it wasn’t out of fear, though I knew he would kill me. I had a better reason.” She paused, then said, “I can make them give you the picture back. I can refuse to keep working.”
“No,” Cross said.
Athena smiled and said with a brilliant, gay cheerfulness, “Then we can just go to bed together. I find you very attractive and I’m