Firebird Page 11

  CHAPTER 15

  “Who will grieve for this woman?”

  Akhmatova

  GEORGETOWN

  TUESDAY, OCTOBER 26

  “Welcome to CNN Headline News. Today is Tuesday, October 26. In the nation’s capital, CNN has been following a breaking story. A listening device has been discovered in a high level conference room inside the State Department building. The device was concealed on the 7th floor, one of the most secure areas of the building, where the office of the U.S. Secretary of State is located.

  “Vice Presidential Republican Nominee Senator Rossinski said that this is only the tip of the iceberg and that he believes there is a direct connection to the recently uncovered East Coast network of spies who have allegedly been passing America’s secrets to the Russians. The Senator…”

  Anthony Rhodes’ housekeeper, Mary, turned toward the television as she smoothed clean linens on the four poster bed in the guest room. “And aren’t most of those secrets already free for all on the internet, I ask you?” she murmured to herself.

  Absorbed, she did not see the man in the doorway behind her until he spoke. “So they think that the agent charged with spying at the State Department did not act alone. Is anyone surprised?”

  “Saints preserve us! You startled me, Ambassador Rhodes.” Mary turned toward the door, clutching the still warm sheet to her chest. Her employer looked older and thinner these last few weeks, poor man. Still Randolph-Scott-handsome with his eagle’s profile and shock of silver hair, but now the blue eyes that usually twinkled at her were dulled with sorrow.

  He gestured toward the television. “Just one more thing to love about living inside the beltway. International news is local news for us…”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, lost dogs, traffic reports, and spies infiltrating the top floor of the State Department. Just your everyday events.” She lowered the volume on the television and bent to finish making the bed.

  “That spy was literally under this old man’s nose, Mary.”

  She tucked the last corner of soft cotton under the mattress and straightened up. “You’re not old, Sir! But I do remember your office is on the seventh floor, isn’t it now? Never a dull moment in the State Department, I imagine.”

  He shrugged. “Never. Betrayal, back-stabbing, political intrigue… nothing has changed since Julius Caesar. You know as well as I, Mary, that politics is all about secrets, ambition and power. It’s a wonder we accomplish any good at all. Being an ambassador was a cake-walk compared to my work as undersecretary.” He handed her the white down comforter she’d draped over the nearby wingchair.

  She smiled her thanks and smoothed the comforter over the sheets in one swift motion. “There. I’ll be finished with Mrs. Marik’s room in just a few moments, Sir. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

  “Fresh flowers for her, Mary, please.” His eyes lost focus for a moment. “But not red roses…”

  “Wouldna’ dream of it, Sir. Red roses were Mrs. Rhodes’ favorite, surely, may she rest in peace. I’ll find some lovely chrysanthemums for her sister. She needs a bit of color in her life.” She hesitated, then said, “It will be nice having Mrs. Marik stay in the townhouse again. “

  “Yes. She insisted on staying at the Hay-Adams when she was here for Eve’s…” His voice caught. “When she was here last. This house is much too quiet, now, I’m afraid. I’m grateful for the company.”

  Anthony Rhodes raised a spiky silver eyebrow as he glanced at the lone suitcase and computer bag left by the foot of the bed. “I was hoping she would bring Ruby with her this time.”

  Mary nodded. “Aye, it would have been good to see the wee one. I baked cookies this morning, just in case.”

  “Then all is not lost.”

  She laughed. “There’s a casserole for you in the oven. Would you be wantin’ me to stay the night, Ambassador?”

  “No, there’s no need. I’d rather you get your rest. It’s only two days until the benefit.” He shook his head. “The guest list is closing in on 200. You’re overseeing everything, I trust?”

  “Aye. But…” She looked up at him, hands on ample hips, and waited.

  “What is it, Mary? I know that look. Have I created chaos in my office again?”

  “It’s this benefit, Sir, if you don’t mind me sayin’. It won’t be easy for you, so soon after losing Mrs. Rhodes and all. I know it’s not my place, but surely folks will understand if you want to postpone – ”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t have a choice, Mary. Eve would want me to do this, she’d insist! Good God, it’s for her favorite charity. She’d haunt me forever if I cancelled!”

  “And me as well, no doubt about it! Then we’ll make her proud, Ambassador.”

  “Yes, you and I will be fellow conspirators, won’t we? We won’t let my wife down.” He glanced at his watch. “After four,” he murmured with surprise. “Where on earth is Alexandra?”

  “She went off for a walk, Sir, just after she arrived. But she said she’d be back in time to see you before you have to leave for your meeting.”

  “Of course. I should have known.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned away. “They’re predicting rain tonight. I doubt she took an umbrella. Enjoy your evening, Mary. I’ll see you tomorrow. And take those cookies of yours home to your grandbabies. But leave one for me.”

  The door closed softly behind him.

  * * * *

  Alexandra passed through the iron gates of Georgetown’s Oak Hill Cemetery just as the first rain began to fall.

  She pulled the long hooded raincoat more tightly around her shoulders as the wind tore the leaves from the tall oaks and sent them skittering across the paths and headstones.

  Head down, she passed by the gothic Renwick Chapel and hurried downhill past obelisks and monuments dating back to the Civil War. Finally, in a dripping leafy glen that smelled of chrysanthemums and rain, she found the stone angel.

  The angel was life-size, on bended knee with head bowed, her great stone wings folded about her body, soaked flowers scattered at her feet. A testament to Anthony’s power, she realized, that a monument was already in place.

  Alexandra stood for a long time, as still and cold as the angel, staring down at the words so newly carved in the glinting stone.

  Evangeline Marik Rhodes

  Beloved wife and mother

  And sister? A new wave of grief tore through her.

  What were your secrets, Eve?

  The last time she had seen her sister, she remembered suddenly, was the end of June. She’d come to Washington on art gallery business, to discuss a joint exhibit with the Corcoran Museum. They’d had dinner at the Prime Rib supper club and gone on to a reception at the German Embassy, a beautiful 19th century mansion on Massachusetts Avenue.

  Eve had been tense - and, as usual, the evening had ended in an argument.

  The wind sighed through the trees and dying leaves blew across the grave. Why did you have to die so soon, Eve? We weren’t finished...

  Letting her breath out, Alexandra reached into the deep pocket of her raincoat and removed a small, perfectly shaped seashell the color of pink pearls. “From our collection,” she whispered, as she laid the shell against the cold stone angel. “I’ll find out what happened to you, Eve. I promise you.”

  “Evangeline was many things,” said a deep male voice behind her, “but the angel is pushing it just a bit, I think.”

  Alexandra spun around.

  Anthony Rhodes, Eve’s third husband, stood behind her, towering and dark, holding a black umbrella above his head. He stepped closer.

  “Sorry, Alexandra. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He shifted the umbrella to shield her. “Here,” he smiled as he bent toward her. “Come in from the rain.”

  His lips were warm against her cold cheek.

  “Hello, Anthony. How did you find me?”

  “Mary said you’d gone out for a walk.” He gazed down at the angel with clouded eyes. “Who wil
l grieve for this woman? Where else would you go?”

  She stared unseeing at the wet stone. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered. “Everything my sister was – her beauty, her passion and fearlessness, that mercurial free spirit – suddenly gone! Just… gone, in the blink of an eye.”

  He gazed down at her. “Everyone tells me it will get easier.” He smiled softly. “But when was anything ever easy with your sister?”

  She returned his smile. In his early sixties, Anthony Rhodes was tall and gaunt, with the lean patrician face and strong, hard angles usually found on a Greek coin. Long silvery hair was swept back above eyes the color of blue rain.

  He took her arm, his fingers firm and reassuring. No need to pull away. As she looked up at him, the rain hood fell to her shoulders.

  “My God, Alexandra! What have you done to your hair?”

  Her fingers pushed at the short jagged spikes as she grinned weakly. “To borrow a phrase from your step-daughter, I’ve empowered myself.”

  “Don’t give up your day job, my dear.” The low chuckle was comforting. “And speaking of my wayward step-daughter, I want to thank you again for finding Juliet in Maine. That girl is a real handful. I trust she’s back at St. Theresa’s?”

  “For the moment,” Alexandra said with a roll of her eyes.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I needed to come.”

  His intense gaze fastened on her. “Your face has been one of the enduring pleasures in life these last few years. Eve was always - different - when you were around. Easier.”

  “Was she?”

  “Of course. How could you not know that? I miss her,” he said quietly. “Every night. She had a light inside her...” His long fingers touched the rain-washed stone.

  She stared at his hands, caressing the angel’s face like a lover, and felt a strange, fierce longing trip in her chest. What, she wondered, would it be like to be loved like that? She would never know...

  He turned away abruptly. “Let’s go home.”

  “No, not yet.”

  “What is it, Alexandra? I welcome your visit, surely, but something is on your mind to bring you back so soon. It must be serious, if you didn’t bring Ruby with you.” He stood silently, looking down at her, his silver brows arched like waves.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure Eve took her own life.”

  She watched his eyes turn to stone. “Don’t do this, Alexandra.”

  “I don’t believe it was suicide. I don’t want to hurt you, Anthony. But Eve loved you, she loved Juliet! She never would have left her child. I have too many questions. I’ve come back to Washington to find out the truth.”

  “What questions? Why would you think such a thing? Tell me what you know.”

  “I don’t know anything, yet.”

  “The investigation is closed, Alexandra. Without proof, you have nothing. Just let it be!” His voice was hollow and full of anger. “She’s gone. Let her rest in peace.”

  “Peace? Dammit, Anthony, everyone thinks she committed suicide. Including you. But what if she didn’t take her life? That means someone else did!”

  “Good Christ, Alexandra! The investigators labeled Eve’s death a suicide. Not a murder.”

  “Don’t we owe it to her to find out the truth?”

  “Your sister chose to end her life. You saw the note she left, for me and Juliet, saying how sorry she was.”

  But no message for me. “Yes, she was sorry. But for what?”

  “For leaving me, leaving all of us. For all the problems she couldn’t surmount. We’re all suffering survivor’s guilt now, Alexandra, but suicide is what all the evidence said. Why would you believe anything else?”

  “Because there was no reason, Anthony!”

  “My rational Alexandra, still looking for motive. Eve was drinking again, taking sleeping pills, strong anti-depressants. I found the drugs, the empty liquor bottles hidden in her bedroom.”

  “What do you mean, drinking again?”

  “She’d been sober almost a year. After she returned from the Betty Ford Clinic in January, she - what’s the matter?”

  “Eve never told me about the clinic. Juliet swore her mother wasn’t drinking, but I didn’t believe it. Didn’t believe her. I didn’t know,” she shook her head helplessly.

  “Evangeline kept her secrets from all of us, my dear. Good and bad. Sometimes I think she knew she would fall again, and couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in our eyes.”

  “Eve started drinking when she was fourteen, Anthony. And taking drugs not long after that. Disappointment doesn’t begin to cover it. But substance abuse never made her suicidal before.”

  “What’s happened to put this doubt into your head?”

  Alexandra turned her face away to gaze at the angel. “You told me a moment ago that I’d need proof to reopen the investigation. What if I told you that her death may be connected, somehow, to Charles Fraser?”

  “Fraser!”

  “Yes, the Senior Advisor to the President. That Fraser.” She saw the shock flare in his eyes.

  “Let it go.” He spoke slowly, as if to a child, his voice cold and hard.

  “No. I’ll understand if you won’t help me, but I can’t just ignore -”

  “Dammit, Alexandra! You’re opening a Pandora’s Box. Tell me what you know about Fraser.”

  “Eve had some connection to him.”

  “What connection? Tell me.”

  She hesitated, unwilling to hurt him. “Eve discovered some secret involving Charles Fraser. He met with someone, late one night at his apartment. If I could just talk to Fraser, ask him - ”

  “Talk with him? Good God, didn’t you read about Fraser in the papers?”

  She stared at her brother-in-law. “I’ve been working twelve hours a day at the gallery. Then I rush home to spend time with my daughter before I fall asleep on the sofa. I haven’t seen a newspaper in weeks, Anthony. What happened?”

  “Charles Fraser is dead. He died just days before Eve, in a terrible automobile crash. His body was burned beyond recognition.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “...imperial friend - or the most agonizing spy...”

  Emily Dickinson

  “There are things you need to know,” said Anthony Rhodes. “Things I’ve kept from you.”

  He put his arm around her and drew her away from his wife’s grave. Together they walked slowly up the hill toward the chapel.

  Alexandra moved away from the comfort of his arm. “What things?”

  “Let’s go back to the townhouse, get dry, have a brandy and talk in the warmth of the study.”

  “No. Tell me now, Anthony.”

  “What I know could destroy us all.” He looked out over the blurred monuments. “Charles Fraser and I go back a long way. We met years ago, at the State Department. Posted in Europe together, had many of the same friends. I introduced him to Eve, God help me, at a press party here in Washington three years ago. Just after we were married.”

  “You liked him?”

  “Highly. A brilliant ivy-league lawyer with an international affairs background. I opened doors for him. Introduced him to the President - ”

  Rhodes stopped speaking and raised a hand to the bridge of his nose, as if it hurt to remember. “Just over two weeks ago, Charles called me. He was distraught -”

  “Why did he call you?”

  “Old statesmen never die, my dear. They just - perform favors. Charles was like a younger brother to me. He relied on my advice. I was his ‘Rabbi’ - his mentor. I recommended him for his White House position.”

  The rain dripped off the black edges of his umbrella. “When Fraser called, he was frightened. He told me he was involved in a dangerous White House investigation - and he warned me that Eve could be implicated.”

  “Good God. In what?”

  Rhodes shook his head. “He disconnected abruptly, as if he’d said too much. It was the last time we spoke.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, Anthony! The car accident?”

  “Yes. He wrapped his Porsche around a tree the same night.” Rhodes raised a hand to brush the rain from his face. “I would have helped him, Alexandra. In spite of - everything. But perhaps Charles chose his own way out.”

  “In spite of what? What does all this have to do with Eve?”

  Rhodes looked away. “Eve and Fraser were lovers, Alexandra.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering the words in Eve’s recording. I was at Charlie’s, late at night. “But she loved you, Anthony, I know she did.”

  “Yes, she loved me. Once. But - as sophisticated as she was, Eve was always trying to fill the emptiness. Of course I knew about her affairs before we were married. I thought I could change all that. But she was like an exotic bird, Alexandra. And I made the mistake of trying to keep her caged.”

  What had Garcia said to her? Bird or statue. She said softly, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

  “I blame myself, more than Charles. I had no illusions when I married your sister. She was almost two decades younger than I... I could have been her father, we all know it. But she was so vibrant, enchanting. Everyone who met her fell a little bit in love with her.”

  “That was always true,” murmured Alexandra, lost for a moment in her own memories.

  “We had separate bedrooms for the last year.” At the shock in her eyes, he smiled grimly. “She didn’t tell you that, did she? No, of course she wouldn’t.”

  “Anthony...”

  “I think she continued to love me, in her own way.” His face twisted with pain. “You’ve got to let this go, Alexandra. Charles and Eve are dead. Now, we just need to protect Eve’s memory.”

  “Protect her?”

  “Yes, and Juliet as well. My stepdaughter has suffered enough.”

  “But - ” Alexandra spoke slowly, to herself, trying to understand. “It doesn’t fit. Eve had her first affair when she was seventeen. Guilt just wasn’t her style. She would never have taken her own life because of another man.”

  They’d come to the Renwick Chapel at the top of the hill, and Rhodes stopped in front of the carved door. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “But she had another reason. Your sister was being blackmailed.”