Mary Clark: Weep No More, My Lady

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes. There must have been a power failure when I was away. I reset my clock that afternoon. I'm sure it was right."

"What did you do then?"

"I was terribly upset. I had to see Leila. I ran out.

It took me at least fifteen minutes to get a cab. It was after ten when I got to Leila's apartment."

"And there was no one there."

"No. I tried to phone Ted. There was no answer at his place. I just waited." Waited all night, not knowing what to think, half-worried, half-relieved; hoping that Leila and Ted had made up and were out somewhere, not knowing that Leila's broken body was lying in the courtyard.

"The next morning, when the body was discovered, you thought she must have fallen from the terrace? It was a rainy March night. Why would she have gone out there?"

"She loved to go out and stand and just look at the city. In any weather. I used to tell her to be careful… that railing wasn't very high. I thought she must have leaned over; she had been drinking; she fell…"

She remembered: Together she and Ted had grieved. Hands entwined, they had wept at the memorial service. Later, he had held her when she could no longer control her racking sobs. "I know, Sparrow. I know," he said, comforting her. On Ted's yacht they had sailed ten miles out to sea to scatter Leila's ashes.

And then, two weeks later, an eyewitness had come forth and sworn she had seen Ted push Leila off the terrace at nine thirty-one.

"Without your testimony, that witness, Sally Ross, could be destroyed by the defense," she heard William Murphy saying. "As you know, she has a history of severe psychiatric problems. It's not good that she waited that length of time before coming forward with her story. The fact that her psychiatrist was out of town and she wanted to tell him first at least explains it somewhat."

"Without my testimony it's her word against Ted's, and he denies going back up to Leila's apartment." When she had heard about the eyewitness, she had been outraged. She had totally trusted Ted until this man, William Murphy, told her that Ted denied going back to Leila's apartment.

"You can swear that he was there, that they were quarreling, that the phone was slammed down at nine thirty. Sally Ross saw Leila pushed off the terrace at nine thirty-one. Ted's story that he left Leila's apartment at about ten after nine, went to his own apartment, made a phone call, then took a cab to Connecticut doesn't hold up. In addition to what you and that other woman testify, we also have a strong circumstantial case. The scratches on his face. His skin tissue under Leila's fingernails. The testimony of the cabbie that he was white as a sheet and trembling-he could hardly give directions to his place. And why the hell didn't he send for his own chauffeur to take him to Connecticut? Because he was in a panic, that's why! He can't come forward with proof of anyone he reached on the phone. He has a motive-Leila rejected him. But one thing you have to realize: the defense will harp on the fact that you and Ted Winters were so close after her death."

"We were the two people who loved her best," Elizabeth said quietly. "Or at least, I thought we were. Please, can I go now?"

"Well leave it at that. You do look pretty beat. This is going to be a long trial, and it won't be pleasant. Try to relax next week. Have you decided where you'll be staying these next few days?"

"Yes. Baroness von Schreiber has invited me to be her guest at Cypress Point Spa."

"I hope you're joking."

Elizabeth stared at him. "Why would I joke about that?"

Murphy's eyes narrowed. His face flushed and his cheekbones suddenly became prominent. He seemed to be struggling not to raise his voice. "Miss Lange, I don't think you appreciate the seriousness of your position. Without you, the other witness would be annihilated by the defense. That means that your testimony is about to put one of the richest and most influential men in this country in prison for at least twenty years, and thirty if I can make Murder Two stick. If this were a Mafia case I'd have you hidden away in a hotel under an assumed name and with a police guard until this trial is over. Baron and Baroness von Schreiber may be friends of yours, but they're also friends of Ted Winters' and are coming to New York to testify for him. And you seriously propose to stay withthem at this time ? "

"I know that Min and the Baron are testifying as character witnesses for Ted," Elizabeth said. "They don't think he's capable of murder. If I hadn't heard him with my own ears I wouldn't have believed it either. They're following their conscience. I'm following mine. We all do what we have to do."

She was not prepared for the tirade Murphy let loose at her. His urgent, sometimes sarcastic words pounded in her ears. "There's something fishy about that invitation. You should see that for yourself. You claim the Von Schreibers loved your sister? Then ask yourself why the hell they're going to bat for her murderer. I insist you keep away from them, if not for my sake or your own neck then because you want justice for Leila."

In the end, embarrassed at his obvious contempt for her naivete, Elizabeth agreed to call off the trip, promised that instead she'd go to East Hampton and there either visit friends or stay in a hotel.

"Whether you're alone or with someone, be careful" Murphy told her. Now that he had gotten his way, he attempted a smile; but it froze on his face, and the expression in his eyes was both grim and worried. "Never forget that without you as a witness, Ted Winters walks."

Even with the oppressive mugginess, Elizabeth decided to walk home. She felt like one of those punching bags that were weighted with sand and flopped from side to side, unable to avoid the blows rained on them. She knew the district attorney was right. She should have refused Min's invitation. She decided she wouldn't contact anyone in the Hamptons. She'd check into a hotel and just lie on the beach quietly for the next few days.

Leila had always joked, "Sparrow, you'll never need a shrink. Put you in a bikini, dunk you in the briny and you're in heaven." It was true. She remembered her delight in showing Leila her blue ribbons for swimming. Eight years ago, she'd been a runner-up for the Olympic team. For four summers she'd taught water aerobics at Cypress Point Spa.

Along the way she stopped to pick up groceries- just enough to have a salad for dinner and a quick breakfast. As she walked the last two blocks home she thought of how remote everything seemed-as if she were seeing her whole life before Leila's death through the far lens of a telescope.

Sammy's letter was on top of the mail on the dinette table. Elizabeth reached for the envelope and smiled at the exquisite handwriting. It so vividly brought Sammy to mind-the frail, birdlike figure; the wise eyes, owlish behind rimless glasses; the lace-edged blouses and sensible cardigans. Sammy had answered Leila's ad for a part-time secretary ten years ago and within a week had become indispensable. After Leila's death, Min had hired her as a receptionist-secretary at the Spa.

Elizabeth decided to read the letter over dinner. It took only a few minutes to change into a light caftan, fix a salad and pour a glass of chilled chablis. Okay, Sammy, time for our visit, she thought as she slit the envelope.

The first page of the letter was predictable:

Dear Elizabeth,

I hope this finds you well and as content as possible. Each day I seem to miss Leila more and can only imagine how you feel. I do think that after tne trial is behind you, it will get better.

Working for Min has been good for me, although I think I will be giving it up soon. I really have never recovered from that operation.