Tyler said pointedly, “The Stanford name might be useful in speeding things up.”
He’s right about that, Steve thought. He nodded. “I’ll do everything I can. If it’s at all possible to—”
There were voices from the staircase.
“Just shut up, you stupid bitch! I don’t want to hear another word. Do you understand?”
Woody and Peggy came down the stairs and into the room. Peggy’s face was badly swollen, and she had a black eye. Woody was grinning, and his eyes were bright.
“Hello, everybody. I hope the party’s not over.”
The group was looking at Peggy in shock.
Kendall rose. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. I…I bumped into a door.”
Woody took a seat. Peggy sat next to him. Woody patted her hand and asked solicitously, “Are you all right, my dear?”
Peggy nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Good.” Woody turned to the others. “Now, what did I miss?”
Tyler looked at him disapprovingly. “I just asked Mr. Sloane if he could expedite the probating of the will.”
Woody grinned. “That would be nice.” He turned to Peggy. “You’d like some new clothes, wouldn’t you, darling?”
“I don’t need any new clothes,” she said timidly.
“That’s right. You don’t go anywhere, do you?” He turned to the others. “Peggy is very shy. She doesn’t have anything to talk about, do you?”
Peggy got up and ran out of the room.
“I’ll see if she’s all right,” Kendall said. She rose and hurried after her.
My God! Steve thought. If Woody behaves like this in front of others, what must it be like when he and his wife are alone?
Woody turned to Steve. “How long have you been with Fitzgerald’s law firm?”
“Five years.”
“How they could stand working for my father, I’ll never know.”
Steve said carefully, “I understand your father was…could be difficult.”
Woody snorted. “Difficult? He was a two-legged monster. Did you know he had nicknames for all of us? Mine was Charlie. He named me after Charlie McCarthy, a dummy that a ventriloquist named Edgar Bergen had. He called my sister Pony, because he said she had a face like a horse. Tyler was called…”
Steve said, uncomfortably, “I really don’t think you should—”
Woody grinned. “It’s all right. A billion dollars heals a lot of wounds.”
Steve rose. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I think I had better be going.” He could not wait to get outside, into the fresh air.
Kendall found Peggy in the bathroom, putting a cold cloth to her swollen cheek.
“Peggy? Are you all right?”
Peggy turned. “I’m fine. Thank you. I…I’m sorry about what happened down there.”
“You’re apologizing? You should be furious. How long has he been beating you?”
“He doesn’t beat me,” Peggy said obstinately. “I bumped into a door.”
Kendall moved closer to her. “Peggy, why do you put up with this? You don’t have to, you know.”
There was a pause. “Yes, I do.”
Kendall looked at her, puzzled. “Why?”
She turned. “Because I love him.” She went on, the words pouring out. “He loves me, too. Believe me, he doesn’t always act like this. The thing is, he—Sometimes he’s not himself.”
‘You mean, when he’s on drugs.”
“No!”
“Peggy…”
“No!”
“Peggy…”
Peggy hesitated. “I suppose so.”
“When did it start?”
“Right…right after we got married.” Peggy’s voice was ragged. “It started because of a polo game. Woody fell off his pony and was badly hurt. While he was in the hospital, they gave him drugs to help with the pain. They got him started.” She looked at Kendall, pleadingly. “So you see, it wasn’t his fault, was it? After Woody got out of the hospital, he…he kept on using drugs. Whenever I tried to get him to quit, he would…beat me.”
“Peggy, for God’s sake! He needs help! Don’t you see that? You can’t do this alone. He’s a drug addict. What does he take? Cocaine?”
“No.” There was a small silence. “Heroin.”
“My God! Can’t you make him get some help?”
“I’ve tried.” Her voice was a whisper. “You don’t know how I’ve tried! He’s gone to three rehabilitation hospitals.” She shook her head. “He’s all right for a while, and then…he starts again. He…he can’t help it.”