At ten thirty the dessert buffet was brought out and the guests surged forward to fill their plates with pineapple upside-down cake, banana cream pie, and angel food cake covered with a thick layer of pink icing dotted with maraschino cherries. Roger, Glenn, and Mary-Alice joined the line. While the dessert buffet was being served (and demolished) Olivia had slipped away. Gloria asked Mary-Alice to bring her a slice of cake, and she did so.

  “I hope you’re having a nice evening, Miss Grant.” Velvet dropped into the vacant chair next to the older woman, and I stood behind them, leaving Richard to attack the buffet.

  Todd and Rebecca had also taken their seats. Todd had a slice of everything on offer and Rebecca nothing.

  “I am, dear,” Gloria said. “Thank you. Reminds me of my long-ago youth, back in the glory days of the silver screen. Wouldn’t you agree, Elias?”

  “What?” the director snapped.

  “I asked if this evening reminds you of your youth, so very long ago? The dinners we used to go to, the parties we had. Before the war changed everything.”

  “Unlike some, Gloria, my best days are not over yet,” Elias said, unduly harshly, I thought. Gloria had simply been reminiscing, as one does at the end of a long, pleasant evening.

  She dug her fork into her cake and put a small piece into her mouth. “Delicious. Well worth the calories. As for best days, Elias, that remains to be seen, depending on how this picture does. As you know, as we all know, the bigger the buzz around a picture, the further it has to fall.”

  Rebecca threw a frightened look at Todd, but he didn’t notice. He’d caught sight of Velvet crossing the room after seeing one of her dance partners to the door. He leapt to his feet and hurried to intercept her.

  “I’m not talking about fame or success,” Gloria said. “But of youth. Yours is long past, Elias. Long past.” She put down her fork, having eaten only one small bite, and gathered up her evening bag. “On that cheerful note, I’ll bid you all a good night.”

  Everyone mumbled some sort of farewell.

  “Be at the lakefront at eight o’clock sharp,” Elias growled. “I want that morning light for the farewell scene, and I want your lines perfect the first time. We don’t have any more time for fooling around.” He looked across the table at Rebecca. “As for you, wipe that stupid grin off your face. I need to go over your lines with you. I don’t think you have the feel for the importance of the bungalow-colony scene yet. Meet me back at the hotel.”

  Rebecca’s face, which had not been featuring a grin, stupid or otherwise, fell even further. Her lips formed a smile, although her eyes did not. “Whatever you say.”

  At last the evening drifted to an end. Judy Rae sang one final song and, to enthusiastic applause, promised to return the following night, and the orchestra began packing up their instruments.

  Elias finished his drink in one long gulp. “Gary, it’s on you to make sure we’re set up and ready to go tomorrow at eight. I want that morning light, and it won’t wait for us. Take Rebecca back to the hotel now. She’s had enough to drink.” He snapped his fingers. “Where’s Mary-Alice got to?”

  The secretary appeared as Gary and Rebecca left the table. “I’m here.”

  “Get the switchboard to give everyone a wake-up call at seven. If they don’t answer, they’re to keep calling until someone picks up the blasted phone.”

  “Okay,” Mary-Alice said. She looked, I thought, very tired. It can’t be easy running to Elias Theropodous’s beck and call all day and still be at it past midnight.

  “I’m thinking a turn at the tables at the Concord before going back to Kennelwood,” Matthew said. “Anyone feel like trying their luck?”

  “My luck?” Elias said. “I expect my luck to be in at Kennelwood. But first, my car had better be waiting outside if Freemont knows what’s good for him. I’m not standing around all night waiting.” He slammed his glass onto the table, got to his feet, and stalked away.

  I grabbed a passing busboy and sent him to call for Elias’s car.

  “It’ll be a few minutes,” I said apologetically.

  “In that case,” Matthew said, “I’ll offer him another drink. Elias! One moment.”

  “Good night, everyone,” I said. “See you all tomorrow.”

  Gloria had made no further move to leave. She stood by her chair, staring after Elias. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and her face was tight with anger as she glared at her ex-husband’s back. She caught me looking at her and gave her head an almost invisible shake, and the anger disappeared.

  “Men. What can you do other than feel sorry for them? Elias’s days are numbered. He knows it, and he can’t handle it.” She waved her hand dismissively in the smoky air, and the light of the chandelier caught the diamonds on her bracelet. She brushed her lips across my cheek. “Good night, dear.”

  “Good night. Would you like me to call someone to escort you to the house?”

  “No, thank you, dear. I’ll go slowly and fully enjoy the evening air. The perfume from your gardens is marvelous at night.”

  She walked away. People stepped back to allow her to pass; several gentlemen dipped their heads to her, and women whispered excitedly to their friends.

  I looked around the ballroom. Elias and Matthew had met with Glenn and Roger at the bar and were ordering a last round. Todd made no move to join them, preferring to chat to Velvet. He’d unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie and was boyish and charming, with the stubble on his jaw growing in and a dark curl flopping across his forehead.

  “So,” he was saying to Velvet as I joined them, “what do you do around here for excitement after work’s done?”

  “Sometimes there are parties in the staff cabins, and some nights the staff go into town to meet up with friends from the other resorts. As for me, I go to bed. I have to be on the dock at six thirty for prebreakfast calisthenics.” She demonstrated by making an arc of her arms over her head and leaning to one side in a crackle of pink tulle.

  “Can I join you?” he asked.

  She laughed. “The class is for women over fifty.”

  “I meant in bed.”

  Velvet’s face turned the color of her dress. While Gloria was staying in my room in the house I share with my mother, I was bunking in with Velvet. I was most certainly not going to have Velvet engaging in the staff custom of leaving a towel over the doorknob to warn the roommate not to come in because of company. I slipped my arm though hers. “Her boss runs a tight ship, and Velvet needs her beauty sleep.”

  Velvet gave me a look. I couldn’t quite tell if it was of gratitude or disappointment.

  Todd grinned. “Be warned, I never give up. Now, can I escort you two lovely ladies to your accommodation?”

  “I’ve got this.” Randy butted into our circle. “Your ride’s about to leave, Todd.” He nodded to Matthew and Elias, putting down their empty glasses as they headed for the door.

  “I’ll call a cab.” Todd took one of Velvet’s arms; Randy took the other.

  What was I, chopped liver? I wondered if they were about to lower their heads and charge at each other with a clash of antlers. I was saved from embarrassment when Richard joined our cheerful little group.

  “Thank you for a great evening, Elizabeth. I enjoyed it very much. Todd, it’s late. I’ll give you a lift back.”

  Randy couldn’t hide his smug grin.

  Todd hesitated, then he said, “I’ll grab a cab later, thanks. Rebecca said you told her you used to be in movies, Randy. Anything I’ve ever heard of? The business got too much for you, did it? I suppose working here’s a lot easier.”

  Randy growled, and I feared the antlers were about to come out again.

  “Hey!” Todd said, “I’ve got an idea. As you know your way around the biz at the lower levels, I’ll suggest you get a part as an extra. You’re the lifeguard here, right? You can walk across the set once or twice. How about it? They’ll give you union wages.”

  It was true Randy had tried to make it as an actor. He had the looks but little talent and, more important, no ambition. He gave up and left Hollywood after landing a couple of minor, very minor, roles and next tried his hand at Broadway. He didn’t even get in the door, but somehow he fell into Olivia’s circle and got himself a job here when she inherited Haggerman’s. It was, however, not true that he needed the money. Randy, full name Randolph James Fontaine IV, was the scion of a blue-blood Boston family, and the despair of Mr. and Mrs. Randolph James Fontaine III. To the intense disappointment of his father, who hoped his only son would follow his family line into the law, Mrs. Randolph James Fontaine II indulged her beloved grandson to the extent that she financially supported his acting career, and when that failed, she continued providing him with a generous allowance even though he was now well into his thirties. In a couple more years, he’d be out of his thirties and probably still searching for a path in life.

  Before the two men could come to blows, Richard interrupted. “You’ll have a long wait for a taxi, Todd. Lots of folks from the other resorts came here tonight, and they’ll be grabbing the cabs. They hoped to see Gloria and were not disappointed. You know full well Elias never offers anyone a lift. Except for beautiful women and moneymen. Tonight even Rebecca had to get a ride with Gary. Can you find your own way home, Elizabeth?”

  He gave me a private smile, and I said, “Of course.” A slow walk with Richard by the lake on a warm night would be lovely, but I needed Todd to be on his way.

  Todd hesitated, and then he said, “Thanks. Morning comes early, doesn’t it, and Elias’ll fly into a rage if any of us is a minute late. I’ve never worked with the man before, but I’d been warned. If I want to be in an Academy Award–potential movie, I have to work with an Academy Award–winning temperament. You don’t mind if I escort these ladies to their rooms first, do you?”

  “Not at all,” Richard said. “I’ll come with you. It’s a nice night for a stroll.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Randy said. “As for union wages, buddy, you can—”

  I quickly cut him off. “Are we getting any complaints about the beach and dock being closed during the filming? None have come my way.”

  Randy tore his eyes off Velvet, walking ahead of us between Richard and Todd. “Not that I’ve heard. People are more excited about watching the filming than swimming. The pool’s open, so that’s okay for those who want to swim.”

  My entourage and I descended the grand sweeping staircase. The lobby was crowded with people saying good night to their friends or debating having a nightcap on the veranda.

  We stepped outside. The air was warm and still, full of the scent of the lake in front of us and the woods surrounding us. The lights above the veranda and lining the driveway broke the immediate darkness, but beyond that thin row the lake was a cloth of black velvet and the mountains nothing but an outline against the moonlit sky. The Skylark was pulled up to the bottom of the steps, blocking a line of taxis, and Freemont, immaculate in his cap and uniform, stood at attention next to the open door.

  “Are you okay, Elias?” I heard Matthew say. “You don’t look too good.”

  “Go on ahead,” I said to Velvet. “I’ll catch up.” I hurried to join the men.

  Elias stood at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other pressed to his chest. Beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead, and his face was very pale.

  “I . . . ,” he said.

  I touched Matthew’s arm. “Come with me. We’ll find a chair in the lobby where Elias can rest until he’s feeling better.”

  “Freemont, give me a hand here.” Matthew took the director’s arm while the chauffeur hurried up the stairs.

  The row of taxis began beeping their horns and a man yelled, “I haven’t got all night here.”

  “I’ll help Mr. Theropodous,” I said. “Please move the car, Mr. Freemont.”

  He glanced between his employer and me. Richard slipped through the crowd. “Do what Mrs. Grady says. We’re okay here.”

  Freemont gave him a nod and ran down the steps.

  “You,” I called to a hovering bellhop. “Ask reception if we have a doctor in the hotel. Please, ladies and gentlemen, step aside. He needs to sit down.”

  Gradually the crowd parted. Richard and Matthew took Elias’s arms. The director took his hands off the railing. He swayed, and then he leaned forward with a groan and discharged the contents of his stomach. Instinctively Richard and Matthew let go and leapt back. Elias Theropodous, three-time Academy Award–winning director, collapsed. No longer holding on to the railing, he lost his balance and tumbled the ten steps to the driveway.

  There he lay, not moving.

  Chapter 6

  People screamed. Some pressed forward to see what was going on, while others backed away. I ran down the steps, Richard and Matthew close behind me.

  Freemont reached his employer before any of us and dropped to his knees. His big hands hovered above the unmoving form, unsure of what to do. Elias had landed facedown, one arm under him, the other thrown out at a bad angle.

  “Call an ambulance,” someone shouted.

  “Roll him over.” Richard crouched next to Freemont. “We have to make sure he can breathe. Careful of that arm though.”

  Elias lay very still, his eyes closed. He’d hit his nose when he fell, and blood streamed from it. His chest moved, slowly, but at least it was moving.

  “An ambulance’ll take too long,” I said. “You can drive him to the hospital.”

  “I don’t know where it is,” Freemont said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Richard said.

  “No. I’ll do that,” I said. “Richard, can you take the others to Kennelwood? I’ll call when I have news.”

  Richard nodded in acknowledgment.

  “I’m a doctor. Let me through.” A man in his early fifties, hair standing on end, pillow marks on his face, sweater hastily thrown over his paisley pajamas, arrived, shoelaces dragging behind him. “Did the gentleman have a fall?”

  “He fell down the steps,” I said. “But he threw up first, and he seemed to black out.”

  The doctor knelt next to Elias and lifted an eyelid. “Drunk?”

  “He had a lot to drink,” Matthew said, “but no more than I’ve seen him take before. It came over him very suddenly.”

  While the doctor asked about Elias’s medical history, and Matthew said he didn’t know, Freemont, Richard, and a couple of bellhops lifted Elias and gently laid him in the back seat of the car. He made no sound, and he did not wake up.

  “Do you know where the Summervale hospital is?” I asked the doctor.

  “I do not.”

  “Will you come with us?”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  The doctor got into the back of the car and knelt on the floor next to the patient, and I climbed in the front, calling, “Richard, phone the hospital and tell them we’re coming.”

  Freemont threw the car into gear, and we tore down the driveway. Freemont’s hands were tight on the wheel and his eyes wide as he watched the narrow, curving, dark road. Traffic was heavy for the time of night, as people moved from one hotel to another after the evening’s entertainment.

  “Have you known this to happen before?” the doctor asked. “The blackouts, I mean?”

  “Freemont?” I said.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m his regular driver, sir, been with him for more than twenty years. Mr. Theropodous can put away the scotch or bourbon all the night long and be right and ready for work next morning. Never known him to pass out.”

  “Man’s not as young as he used to be,” the doctor said. “Some of these old guys, and I include myself, forget that. To our peril.”

  I thought about what Gloria had said earlier and how angry Elias had been when she reminded him he was no longer in the flush of youth.

  A nurse and two orderlies waited for us at the emergency entrance to the hospital, and Elias was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed inside. The doctor followed them through the swinging doors at the end of a long corridor, but I was told to take a seat in the waiting room. Freemont remained outside with the car.

  The waiting room of our small hospital is a cheerless place. Badly sprung, stained furniture, overflowing ashtrays and used coffee cups, scarred tables, decades-out-of-date magazines. I was the only person there, and I thought that was a good thing: they’d be able to see to Elias immediately.

  I picked up a magazine at random. The picture on the cover showed a young, pale-faced, red-lipped woman with a wartime hairstyle, wearing wartime clothes. The headline proclaimed her to be the rising star of 1944. I’d never heard of her. Fame, indeed, is fleeting.

  I looked up from the magazine as Matthew Oswald dropped into the chair next to me. He pointed to the picture. “Ruth Rosenweitz, also known as Ruthie Rose. She was a protégé of Elias’s. Got herself pregnant, by her husband I might add, at the start of filming of what was to be her breakthrough picture. Elias fired her.”

  “They couldn’t film around that?”

  “They could, sure. But Elias wouldn’t. I think he took it as a personal insult.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “It has a happy enough ending. Her husband’s now the junior senator from their state, and there’s buzz about a presidential run in a few years. They say she’s the power behind him.” He nodded to the closed doors leading deeper into the hospital. “I’m guessing there’s no word yet?’

  “No,” I said. “Have the others gone back to Kennelwood?”

  “They have. I’ll phone them with an update when I have one. You don’t have to stay, Elizabeth.”

  “Perhaps for a while. I’d like to be able to tell Gloria how he’s doing.”

  “Gloria. The best woman Elias ever had. In so many ways. I was sorry they divorced. She was a calming influence on him. I guess Elias didn’t think he needed calming.”