William Bayer - Blind Side

But there was more to Darling than mere success. He was considered a major cultural figure. He had donated the design and construction costs of the Darling Auditorium at New York University, and had endowed the triennual Darling Prize, described as "a Nobel for sculptors." He was often cited too as one of the most aggressive collectors of Japanese scroll paintings and screens. A powerful man, refined and generous, and now it turned out he not only liked to see girls hurt but he liked to hurt them himself. No wonder Kimberly had been scared.

"Okay," I said, "that was the blackmail scheme. Now, why were you photographing Kim and me?"

Rakoubian looked at me, hesitated, then lowered his eyes.

"Insurance," he muttered.

"What kind of insurance?"

He turned cautious.

"It was her idea. She said we needed another photographer."

"Why?"

He paused again.

"We weren't sure how Darling would react. We didn't want the blackmail traced to us. So Kimberly came up with the idea that we should deal with Darling through Mrs. Z. She'd transmit our demands and act as conduit for the money, and for that we'd give her ten percent. "

"What does all that have to do with me?"

"The plan was that after Kimberly approached Mrs. Z, she'd disappear. That way, if Mrs. Z was co-opted by Darling, Kimberly would be safe from any reprisals. But there was always the possibility that Mrs. Z and Darling would try and track her down. In that case Mrs. Z would go to Shadow, Kimberly's roommate and best friend, to find out where Kimberly had gone."

"Get to the point, Rakoubian. Why the pictures?"

"Documentation."

"Of what?"'

"That you were a photographer and that the two of you were a pair. Kimberly left them around her apartment, and she even planted one in Shadow's wallet That way, if Shadow was pressed, she'd have something to show. It was a diversion and also a way to do a dry run, to see how Darling would react."

"That's what you mean by 'insurance'?" I stared at him. He didn't answer.

"I don't believe you. Kim and I met by accident."

"She told me. That's how she got the idea. She ran into you photographing on the street, and this light bulb went off in her brain-that there should be what she called a 'cover photographer." So she went to work on you, got you interested in her, and then when the two of you went out to photograph, she had me take those pictures. Of course Shadow wasn't in on that. The idea was she'd steer them to you unwittingly."

Even as I listened to him I couldn't believe what he was saying. I think my mind glazed over to protect itself from the consequences of an enormous rage.

". . . Shadow didn't know anything about the blackmail. She thought the only purpose was to identify the Masked Man so he could be turned in to the cops. Kimberly felt that if Shadow was confronted, she'd tell Mrs. Z that her roommate was seeing a photographer, and then Mrs. Z would draw the obvious conclusions that Kimberly had helped you plant a camera in the changing room, and that you had taken the blackmail shots.

"Got to hand it to her. It was a terrific plan. First, because if things went wrong, Darling's attention would be diverted to you, and I'd have time to escape. Second, for the way it brought Mrs. Z into the plot. She, after all, had brokered the deal between Darling and Sonya that led to Sonya being killed. Since she was implicated in the death, and we were offering her a cut, we didn't think she'd hold back any of the money. The threat was clear-if she did hold back, we'd turn her in as well. But Darling wouldn't see it that way. He'd suspect Mrs. Z of acting for herself. For that reason, Mrs. Z would become a kind of fall guy too, who'd provide us with another layer of safety. "

"Fall guy! Is that what I was supposed to be?"

He looked scared.

"I'm just using Kimberly's words."

"She decided everything, according to you. Think I'm buying that?"

"Please! Listen!"

"I've been listening. And all I've heard is: 'according to Kimberly,' 'Kimberly thought,' 'Kimberly decided,' 'it was all Kimberly's idea. . . ." You want me to believe a twenty-five-year-old kid thought all this up by herself? Meantime a slick old phony con man of a photographer was just doing what he was told?"

He grinned at me then, the same shit-eating grin he'd showed me earlier. That time I didn't hit him. There would have been no point. The trick was to keep him on his toes so his lies wouldn't get out of hand. So far he'd been useful: he'd given me a coherent explanation for most of the things that had had me confused. The story was coming together. But the part about my being their 'cover photographer'-had Kim really used me that way? The thought was devastating, almost unthinkable. Still, I had to know.

"Kimberly felt that if Shadow was confronted, she wouldn't name you right away," Rakoubian said.

"They'd have to frighten her a little to get her to talk. But eventually she'd tell them about the two of you-if only to save herself."

"But things didn't work out that way. Your plan, which you keep insisting was so terrific, ended up getting Shadow killed. "

He hung his head.

"It never occurred to us Darling would kill her."

"Why not? He'd killed Sonya. You knew he was a sadist and a freak."

"That was an accident. It happened in the throes of passion. Killing Shadow was cold and vicious. We just didn't anticipate . . ."

He was wrong. From what Scotto had told me, Darling had gotten carried away with Shadow too. But I didn't interrupt; the story, mercifully, seemed finally to be coming to its end.

"Darling and Mrs. Z had formed an alliance. They'd shown us they'd rather kill than pay. Even so, Kimberly wanted to keep pressuring them for money. But once I heard what happened to Shadow, I wanted out."

He paused, wiped his nose on his sleeve again. This time I looked away. He waited until I faced him. Then he showed me a weak smile and went on.

"We had a fight. Kimberly said we had to continue. But I was the one who had the photographs, and I said no. That was it. She disappeared. I have no idea where. And you, you're all right now, because we dropped our demands. It's all finished now. It's over."

"Not quite," I said.

"Kimberly's gone, you're sitting here holding the pictures. But guys are coming around to my place trying to throw lye in my eyes."

"I don't know anything about that, Barnett. We never anticipated-"

I focused on him with total scorn.

"Yeah. So you say. Maybe I ought to go to work on your Hasselblads and finish off your slides."

"Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better. But it's Kimberly you want to punish. Sure, I was her partner. But I was a patsy too. The whole scheme was hers. She's the one who brought you into it."

After I untied Rakoubian, he massaged his repulsive hairy wrists, complaining that they'd gone numb. Then, when I got up to leave, he begged to show me some of his pictures, nudes he'd taken of Kim.

they were exactly what I'd have expected, cheap secondrate pin-up stuff. I tried to be polite, but when he complimented me on the nudes I'd taken of her, I told him to cut the collegial shit. I told him, as far as I was concerned, we had nothing in common as photographers.

He was offended by that, and even tried to protest when I started toward the door with his box of blackmail pictures under my arm. But he acquiesced when I pointed out that since I'd been set up to take the blame for them, the pictures now rightfully belonged to me.

It was two in the morning when I finally stepped out on the street, feeling wasted, desolate, utterly destroyed. I walked all the way back to my place, and as I did I thought the whole time about the awful way that I'd been used.

Kim's betrayal of me, as described by Rakoubian, was so monumental, it seemed beyond belief. to have set me up that way, to have left me there to take the rap, to have latched on to me just because I was a damn photographers scheme like that, so calculated and heartless, was something I could barely comprehend.