The Trouble With Eden - Lawrence Block [155]
At last he was silent for a long time. Peter sensed he was finished, but many of his silences had been almost as long, and he did not want to interrupt. Ultimately Warren said, “Game’s over, lad. If I ever hear any of that gibberish repeated I’ll stop loving you forever.”
“Some of it sounded really great. Did it mean anything in particular?”
“Think of it as background music. Would you mind awfully if I went and looked in on Gretchen?”
“Now?”
“Yes. If for no other reason, to supply her with a useful explanation for your absence. I gather you don’t want to play the dutiful lover right at the moment.”
“Or ever.”
“That’s understandable, but it might shatter her if you stay out all night without a word.”
“Christ, I never even thought—”
“I’ll find a thing to tell her. And I want to look at her myself. I believe you, Peter. And I believe Anne. But I believe my own eyes more.”
“And you think you’ll be able to tell?”
“I know I will.”
He waited in Warren’s car. It took Warren less than ten minutes. He came back wearing an expression Peter had not seen before. His face was pale, with spots of color in his cheeks that looked like rouge hastily applied. And there was the trace of a smile on his lips.
“Well?”
“Yes, of course. I found just what I expected to find. Just what you and Anne described.”
“What happened?”
“Why, nothing at all.” He turned the ignition key, pulled away from the curb. “She played her part perfectly. I told her you’d had trouble at the theater. Tony Bart attacked you for no reason at all. She wasn’t surprised, it meshed perfectly with her paranoia. I explained I was organizing a committee to get you rehired, and failing that, I might be able to find you something better. She said not to worry about her and she’ll let you sleep late in the morning.”
“Where did she slip up?”
“She didn’t.” Warren ran his hand over his forehead. “She showed me the same face she’s shown you and the rest of the world. She was the old Gretchen, fully recovered, calm and collected and sensitive and aware. She met me head on with the mask perfectly in place.”
“Then how did you know it was a mask?”
“Because I’ve known her since you were in diapers, Peter. And there never was an old Gretchen. She was never like that in her life. She greeted me as if I were her dearest friend on earth. And she has hated me consistently for more years than I care to remember. That was really all I had to see.”
“Why does she hate you?”
“I’m taking you to my house,” Warren went on. “I told Gretchen we’d be there and I want you to be able to receive any phone calls she might think to make. And I have some calls of my own to make. I worked something out before. It’s shocking. It will surely be the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life and I doubt I’ll outdo myself in the years remaining to me. But I also think it will work, and I can’t think of anything else that has a shadow of a chance.”
“What is it?”
“In due time. You’ll have a part in it. You played some walk-ons before you inherited the light board, didn’t you? Were you any good?”
“I was never onstage long enough to tell.”
“Did you live those roles?”
“There was nothing to live.”
“Then you’ve answered my question. You’re not an actor.”
“I never said I was.”
“No, but you’re going to have to be one for … perhaps two days. Can you play a part, Peter?”
“I’ve been playing one for weeks.”
“But you weren’t absolutely sure it was a role. And now you are. Can you act the same as you did?”
“I think so.”
“And can you lie?”
“I guess so.”
“You won’t have lines to learn. Strictly improv. The curtain goes up tomorrow morning and the last act ends probably on Sunday.”
“I can try, Warren.”
“You may not want to. Even if you’re able, you may not be willing. We have to create an illusion, we have to write a script her part won’t play against. I had to see her face to face before