Phantom Point
by Gary Inbinder
July 1907: Chicago is sweltering, and hard-boiled detective Max Niemand has a hot, new case. A wealthy socialite hires Max to rescue her wayward artist brother from the clutches of a femme fatale and her dubious California artists’ colony. The job is lucrative, with the promise of a large bonus for good results.
Arriving on the West Coast, Max becomes embroiled in a murder case and a fight over oil rights. In the course of his investigation, he encounters hard-nosed cops, gangsters, an Old West marshal, a tycoon, a cagey lawyer, fast cars, faster women and a malevolent gold-toothed hitman. Before long, Max realizes the odds of living long enough to collect his bonus are definitely not in his favor.
Chapter 9: Mrs. Merwin
Eugenia Merwin walked vigorously, her legs and feet working like the rods and pistons of an engine, her high-buttoned leather boots crunching down the sloping gravel pathway. She was tall, slender and pale; long, thick reddish-golden hair drifted loosely over her shoulders and streamed down her back. Her flowing tresses glittered in twilight like new copper on a rooftop.
Her fair-skinned features — keen blue-green eyes, small shapely ears, aquiline nose, generous but not too full red lips — were handsome and refined. The locals said she was haughty, with the sharp, crafty eyes of a vixen. But those who had fallen under her spell, like her late husband and Hugo Van Dorn, thought her the loveliest creature on earth.
She veered off the graveled path and continued on the green, tramping across an undulating quilt of wild grasses and flowers. Gusts fluttered her trailing skirts; the thick, tall grass slowed her down. Frustrated by anyone or anything that got in her way, she glared at the foliage and cursed the wind. Lifting her garments above her ankles, she dashed toward the cliff’s edge.
She halted at the brink of the point jutting into the ocean. The strong breeze rippled her hair and ruffled her dress. White clouds drifted overhead, the setting sun streaked the sky pale crimson and gold. Far out to sea, the brown smoke of a steamer drifted in a thin trail as the ship rounded the headland and steamed on toward the northern ports. Circling terns and gulls cried, as if warning of imminent danger.
Eugenia shut her eyes and walked to the very edge of the cliff, as though oblivious to all dangers, present or unknown. Her face turned upward and her lips moved as if in silent prayer. The foxy face, now highlighted by the fading rays of sunset, appeared serene and exquisitely beautiful. Her sinuous arms stretched forward toward the ocean as though beckoning some deity or spirit of nature dwelling within its depths.
The golden light dimmed, the sky bled crimson and purple, the winds calmed. Far below, amid crashing breakers and roiling white foam, the fog crept in, stealthy as a cat stalking its prey. Thick white mist climbed the steep-walled bluff like vapor rising from a boiling cauldron.
Eugenia remained on the brink, firm and impassive, until the fog enveloped her like a shroud. She glanced south, toward John Merwin’s great house now almost lost in mist and shadow. Her piercing gaze fixed for a moment on a pair of dimly lit tower windows; glowing yellow, they seemed to glare at her like accusing eyes.
“Eugenia, what are you doing out here? It’s dangerous.” Hugo’s voice called to her from out of the fog.
She turned and walked a few paces in his direction. “Sorry, darling. I was meditating. I find it very peaceful here.”
“Peaceful? Standing on the edge in this pea-soup is suicidal. Don’t move. I’ll come to you.” Hugo approached and grasped her outstretched hands. “Your hands are cold. I’ll warm them.” He rubbed her hands and lifted them to his lips. After a couple of soft kisses, he said, “Let’s go back, now.”
They carefully retraced their steps to the gravel path. Soon, the shadowy outlines of the settlement’s buildings appeared before them like ships in a foggy sea. A lamp glowed invitingly in a window of the cabin they shared. They entered and made themselves comfortable on a sofa. Hugo put his arm around Eugenia; she rested her head on his shoulder.
“We haven’t had much time alone since you returned from Los Angeles,” Hugo said. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I’ve hesitated because I was worried it might upset you.”
“What is it, dear?”
“I met an interesting fellow, an old acquaintance from Chicago,” he ventured enthusiastically. “At least, I think he’s an old acquaintance. I hardly recall him. At any rate, we seem to have met at the Art Institute and he does know a good deal about modern painters. I enjoyed our conversation. I’d like him to come back so you can meet him, show him around, explain our commune as only you can do.”
Eugenia pulled away from him. “Why would someone like that show up all of a sudden? Who is he? What does he want?”
“I... well... just a moment, I’ll show you his card.” Hugo fumbled nervously in his pockets until he produced the business card. “Here it is, darling. His name is Matt—”
“Let me see.” Eugenia snatched the card from Hugo’s hand. She studied it for a moment before flicking it back at Hugo, who scrabbled to retrieve it from the floor. “I’ve told you about these people, but it seems you’ve chosen to ignore my warning.”
“I’m sorry, Eugenia, but I think you’re wrong about Matt. He was very frank about his intentions. He represents a group of investors. He’s interested in the property for a development, but there’s something else. You see, he knows Cassandra. When he told her he was coming out here on business, she asked him to see me. My father’s very ill.—
“You fool! Cassandra hired that detective Burgess to break up our relationship and bring you back to Chicago. What makes you think this fellow Rogers is any different?”
“He is, dear. When you meet him you’ll understand.”
“When I meet him? You should say if, not when. You’ve changed, Hugo. In Paris, you swore you loved me more than anything in this world, more than your art or your life. You’d do anything for me, even if it meant breaking with your family and losing your inheritance. I formed this community so we could have a place for ourselves, away from the world, where we could pursue our interests unhindered. Have you forgotten so soon?”
“Please, Eugenia, you know how much I love you.” He tried approaching her, but she pushed him away. “You don’t understand. There’s nothing I want more than to be here, with you. But sometimes I feel the need to get away, if only for a day or two. Why can’t we go to Los Angeles or San Francisco? Just for a change. After all, you go but you don’t take me with you.”
“You talk as if I were your jailer. You’re a free agent. You may leave any time you wish.”
“But...but if I left for a day or two, would you have me back?”
“I don’t know, Hugo. It depends. I’d have to think about it.” The red lips curled in a mocking smile.
“Please, Eugenia, I’m not asking much. I just want you to meet Matt, talk to him, that’s all.”
“All right, I’ll consider meeting the fellow. But first, you must ask me properly.”
Hugo hung his head, knelt at her feet and kept his eyes averted from the green fire of her gaze. “I’m begging on my knees. Just this one meeting. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. Please, Eugenia.”
She raised her skirts and said, “Lick my boots.”
Hugo did as she demanded. Then he waited for her decision.
“You may send a message to Mr. Rogers. If he wishes, he may come tomorrow.”
“Thank you, dear.” Hugo grabbed the hem of her skirt and rubbed the soft material against his face.
Eugenia patted his head as though he were an obedient dog.
Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder
