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Leons not found, your parents worry, talk of hiring help to find him, even mention their manhunter friends perhaps... and Adonis panics, takes control, brings me in reckoning a small time detective is unlikely to dig up anything awkward, not before Leons found anyhow. He must have kicked himself when he learned Id exceeded his expectations.
Leon hung himself...
Leon didnt hang himself, Deborah. Your husband killed him and made his death look like suicide. How did he do it, eh? Strangulation? Drugs? No doubt an autopsy will tell.
I doubt Friedman ever even met Leon, Deborah. Friedman dealt with select customers. As for my envelope, had he know where it was he wouldnt have mistaken me for a hitman called Lamont when we met in Los Angeles.
...Youyou spoke to him?
Not in the strict sense of the word, no. He was in too much of a hurry to kill me when we first met and too wasted in acid when I caught up with him later.
Your brother stumbled upon Adoniss little secret, didnt he? And traded his silence for a kid and some cash. And Adonis fell for it, bought him his kid, sent him away, and then killed him when he came back for more. Leon didnt come here to borrow money for prints. He came to extort a second kids life. Your flunkey let him in, so his visit couldnt be concealed, hence the exhibition story. There was no exhibition. Just as you suspected. Remember, Deborah? Leon does his own prints. Wouldnt want anyone to interfere with his Art. I should have paid more attention to your words. Perhaps its the way you say them...
Ifif my car is there, I could be the one who... Why dont you accuse me of killing my brother?
Kids are not your thing, Deborah. Youd have been ready for me when I turned up with Sleeping Beauty. Damn it! Then too I should have paid more attention. Not Leon, you said. It struck me at the time, but obviously not hard enough. You didnt say My God!, or whatever else wellbred ladies squeak on hearing Uncle Henry misbehaved. Not Leon. Who then? You sure were right about one thing, Deborah, the job was too formidable for me. I should have thought a little more before I left for Los Angeles. But there I was focused so hard on Friedman Id stopped thinking. Nothing added up Leon soliciting money for prints while buying kids at 15,000 a go; infiltrating the world of child traffickers; duping Friedman into selling him a little boy... You sure were right. The job was too formidable for me. But you knew that, didnt you?
Leon could still have hung himself.
Oh no. At long last Leon had found a mission. Hed never have killed himself when glory beckoned. Your husband killed your brother. And thanks to you, almost got me killed too.
Youre wrong about my being there, though. Carlos borrowed my car that day, his had broken down... Leon saw it, like you, assumed I was there, thought hed wait to ask for a lift. But Carlos turned up, with the tape you found... Leon got his lift, and accidentally picked up the tape with his photo equipment when he got out. He watched it, confronted Carlos, threatened to tell the police about the hotel... I dont know how he knew about the hotel. Perhaps Carlos talked too much... My husband did not tell me... You more or less guessed the rest... I didnt know any of this before you left for Los Angeles.
You dont say.
That my brother, my husband and your Mr Friedman were linked, that much I had guessed. But that my husband had killed Leon? No.
Why did you send me after Friedman? To atone for your sins?
I didnt know my husband and Friedman knew each other. I just... Do you think we spoke about it? Ive known for five years. Hes known Ive known for five years... But not once have we spoken about it. There are things one just doesnt speak about...
One just doesnt... Tell me, what does one speak about, huh?
Think what you like. But dont presume to understand.
I dont.
Good.
Is there anything to understand?
Why do I feel I neednt answer that?
Rich. Young. Beautiful. You must at least get a kick out of what he does to his kids.
You bastard...
Five years of it. Surely, youd have divorced him if he disgusted you?
You splendid bastard...
Are there truly no extenuating circumstances?
...Were turning in circles.
And you still havent told me why you sent me after Friedman.
Maybe I wanted to give my husband a fright.
A fright?... Five years of cowardice led to your brother being murdered and you wanted to give his murderer a fright?
I didnt know who or what had happened to my brother yet, Mr Lombard!
What was the idea? Husband is filled with fear when he learns his child suppliers being tailed?
Something like that.
Something like that?
Something like that.
What happened? Adonis slapped you about a little and you reverted to cowardice?
Here we go again.
Where is that?
Simplify and damn.
Dont you believe in simplicity?
Should I?
We all have to like what we become. Cowards included. We achieve this by complicating things a little. But its never that complicated really.
You seem to know what youre talking about.
Perhaps it came to me while dying in a Californian desert because a woman set upon giving her husband a fright got slapped about a little.
My husband didnt need to slap me about, Mr Lombard. I volunteered...
To get me killed...?
I didnt intend it that way... It just happened. He heard from Laurence that youd been back. That wed argued. He asked why and it just happened; I told him everything... I couldnt help it. Wanted to see him scared. I had never seen him scared before, you see...
Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself.
Perhaps I did... Until fear turned into panic. Thats when he hit me, and told me hed killed my brother... You dont know what youve done, he said. Were in deep trouble, he said. We, he said. We. Wed both be killed if Friedman ever found out you were working for us, he said. We had to stop you and Friedman meeting...
You know something? Ive just seen so much ugliness I dont think Id mind four walls and dinner served every night at a regular time. Id hoped to have a private word with Adonis, but if thats the way you want it.
What are you doing? You cant. I...
Do you think the boy you saved might identify your husband as his purchaser, Deborah? And then, your brothers not buried yet. As I said earlier, an autopsy will...
He... He is dead! MY HUSBAND IS DEAD! Call my parents. Theyll tell you. Call them!
Do you think wed let him get away with the murder of my brother?
We? You and your parents killed your husband?
No. Not us...
They found his body yesterday. In the pool at our house in Sao Paulo. He drowned. Drank too much, went for a swim and drowned.
Your flunkey said he was expected back tonight.
The staff dont know yet... I called my parents, told them everything... I just couldnt take any more...
Get to the point, will you...
My parents flew back from Israel... Told him they would get him killed unless he flew back to Brazil immediately and agreed to a divorce. He flew back to Brazil... And his drowning was arranged...
So you did talk about it, huh?
On... Once... Once... What are we... you going to do?
What do you suggest?
I dont know. Everyones dead...
Your parents arranged the visit to my office?
Why the hell couldnt you divorce the man?
You wouldnt understand.
I... We have to bury Leon tommorrow...
The dead can wait.
Thats right.
Will you please come with me?
That might depend on where youre going.
I am Lawrence, sir. Mr and Mrs De Moraes majordomo. They are expecting you.
De Moraes? I was asked here by a Mrs Spitz.
That would be Mrs De Moraes mother, Sir. Mr and Mrs Spitz are here with their daughter.
Good afternoon. De Moraess residence.
Could I speak to Carlos or Deborah?
Im afraid they are out at the moment, sir.
When will they be back?
Mr De Moraes is due back from Brazil late this evening. Mrs De Moraes is out and not expected before eight. Do you wish...
By the way, Laurence, were you here last time your mistresss brother came over? You know, just before he disappeared?
I work here, sir. Im here most of the time.
You wouldnt recall if the brothersinlaw left together, would you?
You will have to ask Mr De Moraes that, sir. Would you like a drink while you wait?
No. Thank you. Ill be fine...
Mrs De Moraes must have taken it hard, eh? Her brothers death.
Dial OOO on the telephone if you change your mind about the drink, sir.
Hot... These roads all round here, closed to the public... Whys that? Military bases? Huh. I guess theres space enough for war games... Must be good for business.
Must it?
All those soldiers out there... getting bored, thirsty. Come out here for refreshment or female company perhaps?
Aint nobody out there, Mister.
Nobody? Huh!... How come?
Maybe for the same reason that made someone somewhere not consider this a spot to build the Getty Museum...
Haha... Yeah... What about that road back there, though? It says closed to the public, doesnt it?
You a tourist?
Get it out of here!
Kiki he won't hurt you. There's nothing to be afraid of.
Makes no difference. Get him out!