Everyone agreed that the Blackwell twins were the most beautiful babies they had ever seen. They were healthy and unusually lively, and the nurses at the hospital kept finding excuses to go in and look at them. Part of the fascination, although none of the nurses would have admitted it, was the mysterious stories that were circulating about the twins’ family. Their mother had died during childbirth. The twins’ father had disappeared, and there were rumors he had murdered his mother, but no one was able to substantiate the reports. There was nothing about it in the newspapers, save for a brief item that Tony Blackwell had suffered a nervous breakdown over the death of his wife and was in seclusion. When the press tried to question Dr. Harley, he gave them a brusque, “No comment.”
The past few days had been hell for John Harley. As long as he lived, he would remember the scene when he reached Kate Blackwell’s bedroom after a frantic phone call from the butler. Kate was lying on the floor in a coma, bullet wounds in her neck and chest, her blood spilling onto the white rug. Tony was going through her closets, slashing his mother’s clothes to shreds with a pair of scissors.
Dr. Harley took one quick look at Kate and hurriedly telephoned for an ambulance. He knelt at Kate’s side and felt her pulse. It was weak and thready, and her face was turning blue. She was going into shock. He swiftly gave her an injection of adrenaline and sodium bicarbonate.
“What happened?” Dr. Harley asked.
The butler was soaked in perspiration. “I—I don’t know. Mr. Blackwell asked me to make him some coffee. I was in the kitchen when I heard the sound of gunfire. I ran upstairs and found Mrs. Blackwell on the floor, like this. Mr. Blackwell was standing over her, saying, “It can’t hurt you anymore, Mother. I killed it.’ And he went into the closet and started cutting her dresses.”
Dr. Harley turned to Tony. “What are you doing, Tony?”
A savage slash. “I’m helping Mother. I’m destroying the company. It killed Marianne, you know.” He continued slashing at the dresses in Kate’s closet.
Kate was rushed to the emergency ward of a midtown private hospital owned by Kruger-Brent, Ltd. She was given four blood transfusions during the operation to remove the bullets.
It took three male nurses to force Tony into an ambulance, and it was only after Dr. Harley gave him an injection that Tony was quiet. A police unit had responded to the ambulance call, and Dr. Harley summoned Brad Rogers to deal with them. Through means that Dr. Harley did not understand, there was no mention in the media of the shooting.
Dr. Harley went to the hospital to visit Kate in intensive care. Her first words were a whispered, “Where’s my son?”
“He’s being taken care of, Kate. He’s all right.”
Tony had been taken to a private sanitarium in Connecticut.
“John, why did he try to kill me? Why?” The anguish in her voice was unbearable.
“He blames you for Marianne’s death.”
“That’s insane!”
John Harley made no comment.
He blames you for Marianne’s death.
Long after Dr. Harley had left, Kate lay there, refusing to accept those words. She had loved Marianne because she made Tony happy. Everything I have done has been for you, my son. All my dreams were for you. How could you not know that? And he hated her so much he had tried to kill her. She was filled with such a deep agony that she wanted to die. But she would not let herself die. She had done what was right. They were wrong. Tony was a weakling. They had all been weaklings. Her father had been too weak to face his son’s death. Her mother had been too weak to face life alone. But I am not weak, Kate thought. I can face this. I can face anything. I’m going to live. I’ll survive. The company will survive.
BOOK FIVE
Eve and Alexandra
1950-1975
23
Kate recuperated at Dark Harbor, letting the sun and the sea heal her.