Chapter 69

Matterhorn Road is a cul-de-sac in one of Berry Hill’s more exclusive developments. Most of the houses are large and well built and, thanks to 15 years of growth, the yards look reasonably well established.

Rhonda Vick answered the door immediately when the Chief rang the bell. “What took you so lawng to get here?” Her voice resonated deeply in the marble-floored, high-ceilinged foyer. Rhonda was still dressed for business at eight o’clock in the evening. She wore one of her fitted wool suits and was fully made up with every hair in place. Again, Bruno marveled at the pure violet hue of her eyes, possibly the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Rhonda led them to the plush-carpeted living room and, without prompting, began telling her story.

“He terrorized me fwor years,” she stated, almost clinically. “Most people think he’s so intelligent and urbane, but the man I knew was a mwon-ster. I think he was insane, I really do.”

“Can you be a little more specific?” the Chief urged. “Tell us exactly what happened.”

“He never laid a finger awn me,” Rhonda explained. “That was part of it. I always had to look perfect. I was the first person anybody met owhr talked to at the company. He used to say I was his public face. And he put me up here.” She looked around at the walls. “Pretty nice, huh?”

“So you’re saying he bribed you with nice things? With luxury and comfort?”

Rhonda crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. “There was no comfawght. He threatened to kill me every day. And I could tell he meant it.” She took a puff. “Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“What do you mean?” asked Chief Black. “How should we have known to come talk to you?”

“I gave him a copy of the annual repowrt.” She pointed at Bruno.

“And what were we supposed to conclude from that?”

“That you should come tawk to me. He’s supposed to be a psychic. I thought he’d know and try to read my mind. I’ve been cawncentrating awn what I needed to tell you all this time.”

“And what do you need to tell us?” the Chief persisted.

Rhonda became even more agitated. She was bouncing like a bird on its perch, her hand oscillating back and forth in front of her face. “This is so hawrd. I’ve been repressing this for so long. Even though he’s gone, I’m still so afraid.”

Bruno sat next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders. “Would you like me to read your mind now? I can establish a psychic link, so you don’t have to say anything out loud.”

Rhonda nodded yes. Her face betrayed extreme anguish and extreme relief.

Bruno took a seat across from her. He held out both hands, palm up. Without having to be told, Rhonda took both of his hands in hers. She closed her eyes and sat with her back extremely straight. Bruno whispered to the Chief to dim the lights.

They sat that way, in silence, for at least 10 minutes. The Chief was growing more and more impatient by the second. “Her thoughts are jumping from subject to subject,” Bruno explained. “I can’t get a fix on anything. You’ll just have to hang on.”

After another five minutes he spoke again. His voice was different. He seemed to have Rhonda’s accent. “Serge and I met right after his wife’s accident. We were both taking a yowga class and he came up and tawked to me afterwards. He was very sweet. He told me about his wife right away. He spoke as if she didn’t exist anymwor. He said he cared about me. One thing led to another. Soon we were lovers. He got me my jawb at NyewGawden. And we moved into this house together.”

Bruno started crying; he could barely speak. “Then … he asked me … if I wanted to have a baby. I was so happy.”

The Chief couldn’t believe his eyes or ears. Knowing Bruno the way he did, hearing this story from his lips made him want to laugh out loud. At the same time, the emotion was so deep, so real, he could not possibly have laughed; it was so astonishing, so strange, all he could do was listen.

“I was sooo happy,” Bruno continued. “Then Serge said he didn’t mean it in the usual way. He’d been developing this special technique. I knew genetics was his specialty. I thought maybe he wanted to have twins. Owhr to make sure it was a boy. Owhr that the boy would have his nose owhr his IQ owhr something. But that wasn’t it at all.”

Bruno was breathing hard. The Chief glanced from Rhonda, who looked strangely calm, back to Bruno, who was panting as if from extreme physical exertion. “He wanted me to have someone else’s baby. I was going to be the surrogate mother. But it wasn’t even the nawrmal kind of surrogate. He said he’d perfected a way to grow a cell from his wife. He needed one of my eggs; he’d replace the nucleus with his wife’s DNA, and then implant it in my uterus. He was cloning his wife, and I was just the host.”

With that, Bruno collapsed onto the carpet; Rhonda slowly came out of her trance. She seemed much more relaxed. “Did you hear the story? The whole thing?” she whispered. Then she noticed Bruno. “What happened to him?”

“I think he just gave birth,” said the Chief, helping Bruno to sit up. “Do you have any whisky? That should bring him around.”

It took several minutes for Bruno to recover. “Did I just dream that or did it really happen?”

“It happened,” said Rhonda, lighting another cigarette. “Serge made me quit my jawb,” she explained, then inhaled deeply. “I was like a prisoner, taking care of the baby. We never repowrted her: Serge was her dawkter; I was her teacher. No one knew she existed.”

“But why did he want to kill her, his own … whatever she was?”

Rhonda looked at him coolly. She exhaled smoke and explained. “He wanted his wife back, just like she was befowr. He loved little Maria intensely at first. But then as she grew older, he discovered she was having problems similar to those of other clones. Like that sheep, Dwolly. Maria’s DNA was old, so even though it didn’t show yet physically, she was already like an old person. Serge went mad. It didn’t happen overnight, but gradually. Every time he came back from France, he’d tawk about needing to have her ‘put down.’ Those were the exact words he used: ‘put down.’ He thowt of her like an animal, not a person. Fwortunately, he’d always lose his nerve and nothing ever happened. Until his last trip; he came back totally deranged. I didn’t even know him anymore. There was nothing left of the man I once loved. I knew it was the end. At that point, I didn’t even know how I felt about her. I loved her as my sweet child, but hated her as my rival. One evening about three months ago, Serge went back to work. It was the middle of the night, and I knew it was over. How I hate that man. Now I’m free.”

Her pure violet gaze bore directly into the Chief and Bruno. “This is the first time I’ve been free in 15 years. Do you know how that feels?”