Part 27 (1/2)
”That's what I thought. So we'll set aside the estate issues until after you're emanc.i.p.ated; that'll make things simpler. As executor of your mother's estate, I've done some preliminary work with an accountant. I can tell you that your mother was a very successful woman, as you know. Once everything is settled, you'll a.s.sume owners.h.i.+p of this apartment-it's paid for in full-and of various a.s.sets, both onsh.o.r.e and off. Claire was a shrewd businesswoman. Money will not be a problem for you, Wallis, unless of course you go meshugeh, which, once you're emanc.i.p.ated, will be entirely up to you. Good?”
”Yeah, good. Thanks, Natalie.”
”So, I know this is a difficult subject for you. I had a fairly long conversation with your father.” There was an awkward pause. ”Jason, I mean. Obviously.”
”Okay.” Wally's heart hardened at the mention of his name.
”You know he's been here in town since he heard about everything. You haven't returned his calls.”
Jason had called the apartment dozens of times, but Wally had ignored the messages. He had also shown up at the apartment building, but Wally had told the doormen to turn him away.
”It's up to you, Wally,” Natalie said. ”You're a big girl. But ... for all his flaws and transgressions, I do believe Jason cares about you very much. He did let you down, but also remember that Claire's secrets were kept from Jason as well as you. With no trust in the marriage, the cards were stacked against him. Anyway, as I say, it's up to you. He wants to come to Claire's service, but he'll stay away if you say he's not welcome.”
Wally considered this. She wondered if there was still any room in her jaded heart for trust, for faith.
”Let him come,” she said.
Natalie could not suppress a hopeful smile.
”Way to go, Wally.” Natalie gathered her things and stood to go. ”I'm going to head out and give you some time.”
”Thanks. Sorry to be so-”
”Are you kidding? Wally, I would give anything to be as strong as you are. Truly.”
Wally nodded her thanks.
Natalie hovered for a moment, looking anxious, as if debating something in her own head. Wally could see the woman struggling.
”What is it, Natalie?”
”I just couldn't figure out if I should wait on this or what. Your first few days, you were pretty raw. You still are, I know.”
Wally tensed again. ”G.o.d, Natalie,” she said. ”What next?”
Natalie pulled out a letter-size envelope and pa.s.sed it to Wally. For Wally was written on the front, in Claire's hand. The envelope was sealed.
”Your mother wrote a new note to you every six months or so and asked me to hold it ... you know, just in case. I have the old ones in a file back at my office, if you ever want them.”
Holding the letter in her hand, Wally almost laughed.
”The real thing,” she said.
”What's that?”
”Nothing,” Wally said. ”Thanks again for everything. I'll see you at the service on Sat.u.r.day?”
”Of course,” Natalie said. ”I'll see you Sat.u.r.day, but no doubt we'll talk on the phone before then.”
”Thanks again, Natalie.”
Natalie gathered up her things and showed herself out of the apartment, leaving Wally alone, the envelope from Claire sitting unopened on the coffee table in front of her.
Wally found Atley Greer at Pier 63 in Chelsea, his left arm in a sling, struggling mightily to wrap a tarp around some sort of boat, a long and sleek craft that barely looked big enough to float a full-size man.
”What the h.e.l.l is that thing?”
”It's an outrigger canoe,” Atley said. ”It's taken apart right now, but the hull, right there, and the float connect together. Then you've got a h.e.l.luva boat.”
”This is the end of your season?”
Atley nodded. ”I've been so busy chasing miscreants around the city, I never had my last paddle.” He looked out over the water of the Hudson, sparkling in the bright midday sun. The current was slack and the wind gentle. ”d.a.m.n. Look at that water. Today would have been it, but not with my busted wing.” He held up his broken arm, worthless for paddling as long as the cast was on.
”Nice water to look at, though.”
Atley gave her a look and shrugged. ”You gonna help me with this, or what?”
Wally pitched in and the job went much faster. They zipped the canvas tarp around the boat and its elements to make a long narrow package, then carried it together to a boat rack, where they locked it down.
”I got your invitation for the service on Sat.u.r.day,” Atley said. ”Thank you.”
”You'll be there?”
Atley nodded.
”I was wondering-”
”About your brother.”
”Yes.”
”Long gone. He left a blood trail that disappeared at the Hatches' house, and after that ... we got nothing. Every local and federal agency on the eastern seaboard is looking for him. Three days and not one sign.”
Good, Wally thought. She didn't say it out loud, of course, but Atley caught the look on her face and knew.
”And my mother. Is anyone trying to put together her story? I guess the details don't matter much now, but ... you know. I'm thinking about her a lot, everything she went through.”
Atley nodded his understanding. ”The FBI is piecing her timeline together. A friend of mine is heading up that side. They've got a good handle on her, I think.”
”All the way back to Russia?”
”To when she was a kid, yeah. Your grandmother worked in the dean's office of the Emerson School for over twenty years. Yalena attended the school for free and pretty much grew up with American kids.”
Wally considered this. ”That's why the good American English. I don't remember ever hearing an accent in her voice.”
”Not just the language,” Atley said. ”Seems like she learned most everything about American culture. That's gotta be the main reason the transition to her American ident.i.ty was possible.”