William Bernhardt - Primary Justice

Ben started to look away, but before he could, Alvin caught his eye. He started walking in Ben’s direction.

“I suppose you know who she is,” Ben said under his breath.

“Do I look like a hermit?” Marianne responded. “Of course I know.”

Alvin walked up to Ben, all smiles, and thrust his hand forward. “Shake, partner.” Marianne received the same jovial treatment. “I’d like you both to meet my fiancée, Candy Cordell. Candy, this is Ben Kincaid and Marianne Gunnerson.”

It was her, all right. As little attention as Ben had managed to pay to her face on that fateful night, he nonetheless recognized the multitalented dancer-waitress from the Bare Fax. Her red hair was gathered up and separated into two pigtails, which seemed to remove at least five years from her age. The low lighting on the patio also seemed kinder to her than the harsh, no-secrets lighting of the Bare Fax. She was wearing blue jeans and a white blouse with a plunging neckline and small holes throughout. It was a blouse that would make her very popular with the men at the party and very unpopular with the women.

Ben yanked Alvin by the arm and pulled him aside. “What are you doing ?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “This is professional suicide.”

Alvin looked at him gravely. “If she’s going to be my wife, Ben, and she is , they’re going to have to meet her sometime. Besides, they don’t have to know about … you know, the past.” the subject of their conversation interrupted them before Ben had a chance to rebut. “Oh, I remember you,” Candy squealed, as if finding a long-lost friend. “You were there in—”

“Yes, that was me all right,” Ben said, cutting her off. “What madcap days they were.”

“Excuse me. Can I cut in?”

Ben jumped, startled. It was Derek again, with Sanguine hanging on his shoulder. They both looked hours drunker than they had when he left them a few minutes before.

Derek spotted Candy and leered at her in a not-very-subtle manner. Oh well, Ben thought, I suppose she’s accustomed to it.

“Introduce us to the young lady, Mr. Hager,” Derek said, grinning obscenely.

“With pleasure, sir,” Alvin said, rising to the occasion. Introductions were had all around. Alvin placed heavy emphasis on the words my fiancée .

Derek edged closer to Candy. “I hope you won’t think me sexist if I say, in all candor, that you are a beautiful woman.”

“Not at all. Call ’em like you see ’em, that’s what I always tell my customers.” She laughed boisterously.

Derek’s eyebrows arched. “What do you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Ben covered his eyes and held his breath.

“Well, I’m going to college now,” she said.

Ben exhaled quietly.

“At least I am at the start of the fall semester. Alvin’s treat.” She slid her arm around his waist and squeezed. “He’s my little sugar daddy.”

“Is that right?” Derek said loudly. He seemed to find this very amusing.

Suddenly, music began to swell from the chain of speakers built into the outside walls. A Fifties rock ’n’ roll tune was starting. “Sounds like it’s time to boogie,” Derek said eagerly. “Anybody here dance?”

“I dance all the time,” Candy said.

“ No !” Ben and Alvin shouted simultaneously.

“I mean,” Alvin added, “her first dance should be with her fiancée.”

“Quite right,” Ben seconded. “Quite right.”

Alvin took Candy’s hand and led her to the area reserved for dancing. Derek and Sanguine walked the other way. “Hell of a woman,” Ben heard Derek say as they walked away. “Didn’t think Hager had it in him. Knockers out to here.”

Ben heard a new voice behind him. “And just as the music begins, who do I find but my all-time favorite dancing partner.”

Ben swirled. As if the nightmare wasn’t bad enough already, there, standing behind him, was Mona Raven, hanging on the arm of her illustrious husband.

“Mona!” Ben cried, and he really felt like crying. She was dressed in casual chic, a gold lame blouse flowing seamlessly into a tight leather skirt. Unlike Candy, the low lighting did her no favors.

“I believe we’ve met,” Raven said, in his creaky, tremulous voice.

“Yes, of course we have. It was a pleasure,” Ben said, shaking hands. He wondered which meeting the old man remembered.

“And we’ve had the pleasure of a dance, as I recall,” Raven said, turning his attention to Marianne. Apparently his memory functioned best in relation to pretty younger women. “That was a tradition I think we should revive.” He offered Marianne his arm. Marianne smiled and walked to the dance floor with Raven.

Mona placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder and pressed close. “I thought you were very manly at the Red Parrot the other evening. Almost heroic.”

“Kind of you to say so.” Ben looked out the corners of his eyes to see who was watching.

“I want seconds,” she said. She contorted her mouth in strange undulating ovals and growled.

“Forget it, Mona. It just isn’t going to happen.”

“If you don’t, I’m going to tell Joseph about some of the nasty skeletons in his new in-house counsel’s closet.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, “I’ve heard you and Sanguine have a few old bones rattling around, too.”

Mona drew back a step. “I don’t know what you’re implying.” Her smile faded. “I don’t think I like your new attitude, Benjy. I may have to have a little discussion with my husband. He always likes to know which associates are poking his wife.”

“Fine,” Ben said. He looked the woman straight in the eyes. She just didn’t scare him anymore. Somehow, he thought, after you’ve seen a woman in a faded jeans jacket hanging on the shoulder of a 250-pound biker, it’s hard to take her seriously. “You tell him what you want, and then I’ll tell him who I found slumming at the Red Parrot the other night.”

Mona laughed. “He’ll never believe you.”

“I have pictures.”

“You do not!”

“Don’t I, though? We undercover cops never leave home without our bow-tie cameras.”

Mona’s eyes fluttered. The energy seemed to drain out of her face. “It’s because I’m old, isn’t it?” Ben saw water forming into the wells of her eyes.

“No,” he said softly. He put his hand on her arm. “It’s not like that. It’s just not right for me.”

Before she had a chance to respond, a scream shot out from the area near the shallow end of the swimming pool.

“You’re a contagion! A goddamned bubonic plague!” It was Louise Derek, railing at her husband. What was she doing here? Her face looked tired and drawn, even worse than it had that morning in Judge Schmidt’s courtroom.

“I thought they split up,” Ben said staring at the feuding couple.

“They did,” Mona said as she watched the spectacle. “They got back together again. He begged her to let him come back. Think of the good times, think of the kids, all that rot. I told her not to go back, but …” Mona sighed. “After he tried to kill himself, she gave in.”

“ What ?”

“Ran a hose from the exhaust pipe on his Jaguar. Tried to asphyxiate himself. Had to be rushed to the hospital.”

“I heard he had an acute asthma attack.”

Mona looked at him and smiled. “My, you really are young, aren’t you?” She turned back to watch the Dereks. “I suppose she hasn’t made his life a picnic these past few years. It would be easy to feel sorry for him if he weren’t a totally selfish, unfaithful, egomaniacal son of a bitch.”

“You’re the Typhoid Mary of infidelity!” Louise screamed, easily loud enough for everyone at the party to hear. Her voice was a strange amalgam of shrieking and sobbing.