Roger wondered, when the phone conversation was over, how much later he would be able to plan the trip, if at all. Surely the present situation would come to an end eventually, but what end, and when? How far into the future did Lenny’s plans extend, or did he consider the future at all? Would he grow bored with his current existence and move on as casually as he had come, or was there some further scheme taking shape in his mind that Roger could not yet fathom?

  Later in the day, Mrs. Adams, chairwoman for the May Ball, called. Not until he heard her voice, annoyingly sweet as usual, did Roger realize that he had also forgotten the committee meeting of the day before.

  “We missed you yesterday,” she said with mock concern. “I hope there’s nothing amiss.”

  “Oh, no. No, I was just a little under the weather,” he replied.

  “I thought so.” There was an unmistakable note of triumph in her voice. “I just knew last week that you weren’t feeling well. I suppose you’ll be wanting my son to take your place tomorrow night.”

  Tomorrow night? Was it that soon? Roger had nearly forgotten the ball itself, and his expected presence at it.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” he said abruptly. “It was only a slight discomfort, and I’m feeling quite well now. Have no fears, I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, well, if you’re sure....” Her disappointment was obvious.

  Afterward, Roger wondered if indeed he had done the right thing. Surely there could be no harm in leaving the house to Lenny and his cronies for one evening. After all, he often went out and their behavior so far as he knew was no worse for his absence. In any event, it would take a great deal to convince him to shirk his responsibilities regarding the annual festivities—particularly this year, which was sure to be his last one.

  No, he would make his appearance as host and sponsor of the affair. It would probably do him good anyway, to get out of the house and mingle with people of a higher quality than his recent companions. There were times when he was beginning to fear that he might, through association, become like them, though that was a difficult end to imagine.

  Even the thought of getting out of the house and attending the ball worked on Roger as a tonic. He found his spirits lifted considerably and, during the morning, he busied himself with preparations for the following evening. His formal wear had to come out of storage—thank heaven Mrs. Adams had called or he would never have remembered them in time—and taken to the cleaners for rush service. He would have liked to hire a driver for the Packard, but in view of its damaged fender, he decided instead to travel by taxicab.

  He stopped at his barber’s for a trim and a manicure, and even splurged on a facial massage, which he was well aware did little for his appearance, but which did wonders for his morale.

  By the time he arrived home, he felt better than he had felt in many days. Not even the sight of Lenny, who appeared in the parlor doorway as Roger came down the hallway, could dampen his spirits. Roger gave him a cheerful but curt greeting and went right by him, and up the stairs.

  Lenny was not so easily ignored, however. A short time later he appeared at the door of Roger’s room. He watched in silence as Roger sorted through his jewelry, deciding what he would wear.

  “Going some place?” Lenny asked finally when it became apparent that Roger did not intend to offer an explanation.

  “To a social affair,” Roger said without looking up. “Nothing you would be interested in.”

  “Would this be the May Ball, by any chance?” Lenny asked.

  Roger did look up at that, surprised. He would hardly have expected someone of Lenny’s social status to know of such a prestigious event. “Yes. How did you know about that?”

  “I ran across some notes in your desk—committee lists and reports of meetings, things like that.”

  “I trust you found them interesting,” Roger commented dryly. It was exasperating the calmness with which this creature admitted to examining his personal papers.

  “Not very.” Lenny crossed the room and picked up a ring from Roger’s jewel case, examining it briefly. The diamond flickered brilliantly with reflected light.

  “I wonder if that’s wise,” Lenny said, replacing the ring in the jewel case.

  “Wise?” Roger had no idea what he meant.

  “Your going to that party, I mean,” Lenny explained. “You’ve been going in and out a lot lately. I’ve been wondering if people won’t get suspicious. After all, you have houseguests. People might wonder why you’re neglecting them.”

  “I am confident that you will have some explanation in the event that you are questioned by my friends and associates. An unlikely prospect, I should think.”

  “I thought you were concerned about what people thought.”

  “Isn’t it a little late for you to think about that?” Roger did not attempt to conceal his bitterness.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, I think it would be a good idea if you forgot about this ball. In fact, maybe you ought to think about spending more time here at home. We miss you. Just the other night, Zak was saying....”

  “I could not care less what Zak was saying,” Roger interrupted sharply. “And I can spare you the necessity of pursuing this matter further. I have yielded to your demands on nearly every count, because I felt that it was best to do so. You’ve seen fit to run my house for me, spend my money, dispose of my possessions and endanger my reputation, but on this subject I intend to be firm. The Caldwells have hosted the May Ball for many years, a fact in which I take a great deal of pride. The Caldwells will host the ball this year as well. You may threaten me in any way you wish. I fully intend to be present when the ball begins. And as for my going in and out of the house, I should like to point out that I am not your prisoner. I shall come and go as I wish, when I wish, where I wish.”

  Roger’s eyes were flashing angrily by the time he had finished and had warmed up to his subject. Lenny said nothing for several minutes, merely staring at Roger in that hard, calculating manner he had.

  “I see,” he said finally.

  Roger breathed more easily. He had expected something more of a fight on this question, and he had been prepared to hold his ground, but now it seemed that would not be necessary. “If you will excuse me,” he said in a calmer tone, “I have a great deal to do.”

  “Of course.” To Roger’s surprise, Lenny still offered no argument. He seemed, in fact, quite calm and friendly as he left the room.

  A victory for me, Roger thought happily, returning his attention to the selection of jewelry.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was not long after his scene with Lenny that Roger received yet another call about the Ball. This one came from Mrs. Clark, a kindly woman with whom Roger had been long acquainted, if only slightly, who was chairwoman of the invitation committee.

  “Mr. Caldwell, I’m so embarrassed,” she said in her breathless fashion that made every conversation sound far more imperative than they usually were.

  “Embarrassed?” Roger ordinarily had little to do with the preparing of the invitation lists and, in fact, could not guess the reason for the call, let alone the basis for Mrs. Clark’s embarrassment.

  “About your nephew, I mean,” Mrs. Clark said, but that did nothing to clarify matters in Roger’s mind. He did indeed have a nephew, Emily’s son, but so far as he knew, Glen—was that even the right name?—was in Zurich. Roger had never been well acquainted with the boy, and knew of him only from Emily’s infrequent letters.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said.

  Mrs. Clark sighed into the phone, obviously reluctant to explain, but feeling it her duty to do so. “He called me. Oh, I can imagine how awkward it must have been for him, the pour soul.”

  “He called?” Roger was just beginning, finally, to understand. It was not a pleasant thought.

  “Yes, and it’s just awful that it should have been necessary at all. I realize you must have mentioned the matter to me, and I won’t make excuses. Frankly, it must have totally escaped my mind. I didn’t remember a thing about it.”

  “I see.” Roger was hesitant to say more than necessary until he learned more about the call. There was still the possibility of some misunderstanding.

  “And I wouldn’t blame you in the least for being furious with me.”

  “Not at all. Things do happen,” he said.

  Mrs. Clark was clearly relieved. “Well, it’s nice of you to look at it that way. Anyway, I’ve cleared it all up. I sent the invitations to your nephew by messenger—and his traveling companions, too, of course.”

  “You invited them to the ball?” Roger could hardly believe that even Lenny would have gone this far. There seemed no end to his audacity.

  “Yes. I’m really looking forward to seeing him, too. This would be Emily’s son, wouldn’t it? Do you know, I haven’t seen him since he was a baby? He certainly sounded like a fine young man on the phone.”

  “Yes, he does give that impression,” Roger agreed.

  “I know how much you must be enjoying his visit. I’m only sorry I nearly spoiled it for him by excluding him from the invitation list, but it’s all straightened out now, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, everything seems to be settled,” Roger said.

  He barely heard the rest of Mrs. Clark’s remarks. Roger’s thoughts were on Lenny and the trick he had pulled. How insane! Even if it had worked thus far, and he had managed to obtain invitations to the Ball, Lenny could not for a moment imagine that he could carry off his deception. Mrs. Clark might not have seen Glen since he was a baby, but there would be others at the Ball who had seen him no more than five years ago, on his last visit. They certainly would realize Lenny was an imposter.

  I must talk to him, Roger thought anxiously. If only Lenny had discussed the matter with him. If he had known that the Ball mattered so much to him, they might have been able to work something out, perhaps made it possible for Lenny to attend, but not posing as Emily’s son.

  He found Lenny in the parlor. Lenny gave him a questioning look as Roger entered the room. The drawn look on Roger’s face undoubtedly told him that Roger knew what he had done.

  “I’ve just talked to Mrs. Clark,” Roger said breathlessly, determined to hold his temper and to reason with Lenny.

  “So?” Lenny gave a disinterested shrug.

  “She explained to me about the invitation. You realize that this is madness, surely?”

  “Why, I thought you’d be pleased,” Lenny said with an air of hurt innocence. “If not by my ingenuity, then by the fact that you won’t have to go alone. We’re going to accompany you, all three of us.”

  “But you can’t,” Roger insisted, his voice rising. “They’ll know the minute you walk in that you are not my nephew. Don’t you see, it just can’t be done?”

  “But it can, and it will be done,” Lenny said. “In fact, we have a little surprise for you.”

  “Surprise?” Roger did not feel that he was up to any more of Lenny’s surprises.

  Just then, Marty called from upstairs. “All set,” he yelled loudly.

  “Fine,” Lenny called back. “Bring him on down. Roger, baby, is here. I think he’ll get a kick out of this.”

  “What are you up to?” Roger asked tensely. He had learned to recognize the look that was now on Lenny’s face as an omen of impending trouble.

  “You’ll see in a minute,” Lenny said, grinning wickedly. “Wait until Marty and Zak get here.”

  Roger stared anxiously at the door from the hall, holding his breath. What could they have in mind? Whatever it was, he was certain that he would not find it pleasant.

  A moment later, Marty and Zak appeared in the doorway. Marty arrived first, but it was Zak who gave Roger the shock, pausing to pose in the doorway. He wore a scarf tied about his head, and he had made up his face, but in a grotesque manner. He wore an outdated but still splendid gown of red silk, but on him, with his clown’s face, it looked ludicrous.

  “What the hell?” Roger was aghast. “That dress, it’s Mama’s. Where did you get it?”

  “We found it in one of the packing boxes,” Zak explained with a shrill laugh. “Isn’t it divine?” He waltzed about in a circle, causing the skirt to billow out. “Oh, I’ll be the belle of the ball.”

  “Take that off!” Roger cried angrily. “That’s my mother’s dress, don’t you understand? Have you no decency?”

  “Why, Roger.” Lenny grabbed Roger’s arm in a firm grip and restrained him from rushing at Zak, as he had started to do. “We thought you’d be pleased. I wanted Zak to look lovely for the Ball, and that’s the nicest dress we could find in the house. Your mother must have taken her best things with her.”

  Roger stared at him in disbelief. “The Ball? But you couldn’t be considering...you don’t mean you intend for him to attend dressed like that? Why, they’d never let you through the door of the place. You must be mad.”

  “But we’d be with you, Roger,” Lenny said in a reasonable voice. “Don’t you see, they’ll hardly send us away? You’re the guest of honor, or something like that, and I am your nephew, and these are my traveling companions, Marty and Lady Zak.”

  They all laughed aloud at that. Zak screeched and tossed the skirt of the dress into the air, revealing hairy legs and an absence of underwear.

  Roger swayed weakly, his vision blurred as tears of frustration filled his eyes. “You can’t,” he moaned helplessly. “You just can’t. It would ruin me, ruin the ball. You must listen to reason.”

  “Now, now,” Lenny said in a scolding voice. “I did listen to reason. You insisted that you had to attend the party, and I gave in to you. It’s just that, if you’re going, we’re going to. Why, that’s downright selfish of you not to want to share the fun with us.”

  It was more than Roger could bear. He began to cry in earnest, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He was so helpless against them. Everything he tried to do, they turned into a nightmare. No matter where he turned, they were there before him, blocking his way, mocking him. Their voices filled his head until he thought it must burst from the din.

  Lenny’s arms were suddenly about him, comforting him as though he were a child. “There, there,” Lenny crooned softly. “Don’t cry, your Lenny will take care of everything. Come on now, I’ll take you upstairs.”

  Still sobbing, Roger allowed himself to be steered from the room and up the stairs. As they climbed, Lenny continued to comfort him with words.

  “You haven’t been feeling well lately, you poor baby,” he said sweetly. “You’ve been running around too much, for one thing, and not getting enough rest. And something’s been bothering you, I can tell.”

  Roger’s sobs rose in volume. He must be insane, he must be imagining this Alice-in-Wonderland experience.

  “Lenny will take care of everything, don’t you worry. We’ll call that woman back, Mrs. Adams, and we’ll just explain to her that you can’t make it tomorrow night. She’ll have to get someone else in your place.”

  “But I want to go,” Roger said in a whimper.

  “No, now, you know you’re not up to it,” Lenny said firmly. “We’ll have to see that you start taking better care of yourself, you naughty boy.”

  In Roger’s room, Lenny helped Roger into the bed, stretching him out on the soft surface. Roger lay where he was placed, crying softly into the crook of his arm. He heard Lenny dialing the phone, and a moment later, heard him ask for Mrs. Adams.

  “It’s Mr. Caldwell’s houseboy,” Lenny explained, sounding to Roger as though he were very far away. “There’s been a small problem. I’m afraid Mr. Caldwell won’t be able to attend the Ball tomorrow night. Yes, his health. He hasn’t been at all well lately.”

  The voice droned on and on, explaining Roger’s failing health. On the bed, Roger found himself almost believing it. Perhaps he really was ill. So much was happening. It was becoming difficult for him to think clearly. Maybe Lenny was right. Maybe it was best that he not attend. Mrs. Adams would be pleased, certainly, and her son would gladly take his place.

  I can rest, Roger thought. Strange, he had not realized before just how tired he really was. He felt totally drained and weak, and genuinely in need of rest.

  Lenny finished his conversation and hung up the phone. He came back to the bed and, surprisingly, seated himself on the edge near Roger. He stroked Roger’s temple gently.

  “That’s a good baby,” he said in his most tender voice, “Just rest, now. Lenny will take care of you. Just leave everything to Lenny, and do what Lenny tells you, and everything will be fine.”

  “Yes, yes,” Roger agreed faintly. He no longer had the strength to disagree. It was easier to yield, to give in to the strength of Lenny’s demands.

  “And I’ll be good to you, too,” Lenny said. He took Roger’s hand and moved it to his lap. Roger’s hand jerked away as it touched bare flesh.

  “No, no,” he whimpered. Not that, he didn’t want sex, not with Lenny, not now, not ever.

  “Come on,” Lenny was insistent. One hand lifted Roger’s head from the pillow and turned it toward him. “You know you like this big, fat worm, baby. And it’ll make you feel better, like medicine.”

  Roger wanted to protest, but he felt the press of warm, rigid flesh against his lips. He tried to draw away, but his head was held firmly in place. His lips parted, yielding to the insistent flesh, as it slid full into his mouth, against his tongue.

  “That’s a good boy,” Lenny whispered. He began to move to and fro, the bed creaking slightly. Roger felt the invading column making its way far back into his throat, retreating, then thrusting deeply again—and despite his disgust, he was responding.

  So beautiful, he thought, opening his eyes to stare at the naked belly before him, like a beautiful wild animal, dangerous, but exciting, too.

  “That’s the way,” Lenny said. He moved, rolling Roger over and crouching above him. His movements were no longer gentle, but hard, deep lunges into Roger’s mouth as his ardor grew. Roger coughed and choked slightly, but the tempo and the intensity of Lenny’s thrusting only increased.