"Yes."

"Then get back there. How are the girls?"

"Well ... okay."

"You were taught about safe and responsible sex in health class?"

"Yes."

"Anything else you want to know about safe sex?"

"No. I've had it up to here with that subject."

I smiled. "Anything you want to know about good sex?"

He grinned. "Sure. If you know anything about it."

"Hey, watch yourself, wise guy.'' I think I know where this kid gets his sense of humor.

We went back to the house, cleaned up, then went riding, Edward on Zanzibar, me on Yankee. As we crossed Bellarosa's land, I asked Edward, "Did you ever say anything to Mr. Bellarosa about my having to sell the summer house for tax money?"

He looked at me as we rode. "No. Why would I tell him that?"

"He seemed to know about that."

"Not from me."

After a minute, he made an unconscious mental connection and said, "I saw the picture Mom painted. It's really terrific. You seen it?"

"Not yet."

We rode until dusk, then we met Susan at a seafood restaurant on the Sound and had dinner together. We talked about the shark that got away, about the submarine sighting, and about dinner at Buddy's Hole, which was funny and sad at the same time. We spoke about the things that would become family history in this summer of change, growth, and death.

The next morning, I drove Edward to the airport. We don't see people off at the gate anymore, but I shook his hand before he passed through the metal detector and watched him disappear into the crowd.

William and Charlotte Stanhope were staying at one of the cottages at The Creek, and not with us, thank you, God. William took the opportunity of George's funeral to do some business while he was in New York.

At Susan's suggestion, Squire Stanhope made an appointment with the Bishop of Alhambra. They met at Alhambra first, without me present, then came back to Stanhope Hall, walked around, kicked the bricks, and struck a deal. I didn't actually see them strike the deal, but I could picture them, standing in the sacred grove, pitchforks in hand, cloven hooves bared, touching horns and wiggling their tails.

Anyway, we had dinner that night in Locust Valley; Susan and John, William and Charlotte. William fittingly picked an Italian restaurant, a very good restaurant, and very expensive. William does have good taste in restaurants as opposed to my parents. But as William is my client, and as we were going to do a few minutes' worth of business, I was supposed to bill the dinner to Perkins, Perkins, Sutter and Reynolds. William pulls this every time he's in town, but my firm has never done a dime's worth of business with him, and he doesn't even pay me personally. Therefore, I always pay the bill with my own credit card.

So William gave me the business. "John,'' said he, "your neighbor bought not only the house, but all the acreage. We'll draw up a contract tomorrow morning. Two million down, eighteen million at closing. I'll meet you at ten in the Locust Valley office, and we'll go over the details. He uses Cooper and Stiles in Glen Cove for real estate deals. You know them, so we won't have any problems with this deal. Now, let's close in a few weeks. He's got the money. No use waiting. You notify the tax people tomorrow that they can take the property off the auction block. They'll have their money in about thirty days. Do that first thing. And call Cooper and Stiles first thing and tell them to expect to receive and to read the contract by tomorrow afternoon. And I want them to get to their client with the contract the following day. None of this lawyerly foot-dragging. The whole Japanese Empire was surrendered with a one-page document that took five minutes to sign."

How would you know? You were fishing off Martha's Vineyard. "Yes, sir." "Yes, sir."

"And John, you'll keep this strictly confidential."

"Yes, sir."

William went on, "I think the idiot believes he can subdivide the acreage and make a killing. I want to nail this down before he learns otherwise. You speak to Cooper and Stiles about that without making it obvious what you don't want them to say to their client. They won't say anything anyway, because they want the fee."

"Yes, sir.'' Frank Bellarosa was many things, but an idiot wasn't one of them.

"He probably thinks he can bribe or threaten government officials to have the land rezoned. He's got a lot to learn about how we conduct public affairs here."

I said, "I think he wants the land to bury bodies."

William gave me a look of annoyance. He doesn't appreciate my humor at all, which is probably why I hate him.

He said, "Bellarosa's deed will include the gatehouse, too, of course. He wasn't happy about the Allards' lifetime tenancy. But I told him that if he made the widow a reasonable offer, she'd leave. If he he can't get her out, no one can.'' William nearly smiled, and I nearly put my fist in his mouth. He added, "Meantime, the son of a bitch wants to hold a half million in escrow until the gatehouse is vacated and unencumbered. So put that in the contract, but let's see if we can get a promise from Ethel to move, and pass that on to Bellarosa." can't get her out, no one can.'' William nearly smiled, and I nearly put my fist in his mouth. He added, "Meantime, the son of a bitch wants to hold a half million in escrow until the gatehouse is vacated and unencumbered. So put that in the contract, but let's see if we can get a promise from Ethel to move, and pass that on to Bellarosa."

"Yes, sir."

He looked at me and said, "I discovered why you didn't want to dine at The Creek tonight, John. You're the subject of some heated debate over there. That's very awkward for me."

And it will get a lot more awkward for you when your friends find out you sold Stanhope Hall to Frank Bellarosa. I said, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry about that." I said, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry about that."

He looked at me closely, then said, "I'd like to give you some advice. Don't get involved with that man."

"You just sold him Stanhope Hall,'' I pointed out.

He stopped eating and his yellow eyes narrowed. "That was business."

"So is my involvement with him, sir. Your daughter handles our social involvements."

So, there was what you call dead silence for a while, during which time I thought Susan might say something on my behalf. But Susan pays me the compliment of not defending me or speaking for me. I do the same for her.

Charlotte Stanhope finally broke the silence and said, "Poor Ethel. She looked frightful.'' She turned to me. "Do you think she can manage alone?"

Charlotte has a trilly sort of voice that you think is going to trail off into a series of chirps. She's well bred, of course, and seems on the surface to be a nice lady, but in her own quiet way, she's as vicious as her husband.

"John? Do you think poor Ethel can manage alone?"

I replied, "I'll inquire as soon as a respectable period of time has passed."

"Of course. The poor dear, she would be so much better situated with her daughter."

We chatted about this and that while we ate, or at least they did. I was simmering.

William returned to the subject of the sale. He said to my wife, "I'm sorry, Susan, if this sale causes you any inconvenience. But it had to happen. And I don't think you need worry about houses going up so soon. Now that Bellarosa owns the land, you and I will contribute five or ten thousand to the Preservation Fund, anonymously, of course, so he doesn't get wind of it. They'll hold him up in court for years. But meanwhile, Bellarosa assured me that you may continue to use the land in any way you see fit, for riding, gardening, walks, just as if I still owned it. In fact, he's willing to sign a covenant to that effect."

"That's very good of you to think to ask him about that,'' said Susan to Mr. Thoughtful.

William smiled at his daughter. "It could have been worse, you know. At least you know this fellow. And he speaks well of you.'' He paused. "He's quite a character. But not the thug I expected."

I didn't think William would find much fault with a man who was about to hand him twenty million dollars. William, of course, was ecstatic in his own shitty little way. What annoyed me, I think, was not his attitude toward me, or the fact that he had just made a fortune, but the fact that he shed not one tear for the passing of Stanhope Hall. Even I, who had come to hate the place, felt some nostalgia for it, and it hadn't been in my my family for generations. family for generations.

William was still talking to his daughter. "Susan, I'm glad you got the stable moved-"

"I paid for half of the moving of the stable."

William glanced at me, then turned back to his daughter and continued, "Bellarosa told me he wants to move the love temple to his property. He says this fellow of his, Dominic, who did your stable-"

"You are a schmuck."

He looked at me in a funny sort of way. "Excuse me?"

"You are an unprincipled asshole, an utterly cynical bastard, a monumental prick, and a conniving fuck."

Charlotte made a little choking sound. Susan continued eating her raspberries, with no apparent problem. William tried to say something, but only succeeded in going like this: "You ... you ... you ... you ..."

I stood and poked William in the chest. "You, tightwad, pay for dinner.'' I touched Susan's arm. "You come with me." come with me."

She stood without a word and followed me out of the restaurant.

In the car on the way home, she said, "Can the love temple actually be moved?"

"Yes, it's post and lintel construction. Sort of like building blocks. It has to be done carefully, but it's possible, and actually easier than the stable."

"Interesting. I think I'd like to take some courses in building and architecture at Post. That would help me understand more fully what I paint, how it was built, the very soul of the structure, you know, the way Renaissance painters studied skeletons and muscle to paint those fantastic nudes. Perhaps that's all I'm lacking by way of becoming a great painter. What do you think?"

"You may be right."

We pulled into the gates at Stanhope Hall. The gatehouse was dark, as Ethel was staying with her daughter awhile. Susan said, "I'm going to miss George very much."

"Me, too.'' I didn't bother to get out of the car and close the gates, since I intended to pass through them again in about five minutes. Susan, of course, noticed this and remained silent all the way to our house. I brought the Jag to the front door, and Susan looked at me.

A few seconds passed, then I said, "I'm not coming inside. I'll be back for my things tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

"That is really not your concern."

She began to get out of the car, then turned back and said, "Please don't leave me tonight.'' She added, "But if you do, take your own car.'' She put out her hand and smiled. "Keys, please."

I shut off the Jag and gave her the keys. Susan unlocked the front door and we both went inside-I to the kitchen to get my own keys, she upstairs to go to bed. As I headed for the front door again, the phone rang and she answered it upstairs. I heard her say, "Yes, Dad, I'm fine."

I opened the door to leave, then heard her saying, "Well, but that must be what he thinks of you or he wouldn't have said it. John is very precise in his choice of words."

Though I don't like eavesdropping, I paused at the front door and heard her go on, "No, he will not apologize, and I won't apologize for him.'' Silence, then, "I'm sorry Mother is upset. Actually, I think John would have said more if she weren't weren't there.'' Silence again, then, "All right, Dad, I'll speak to you tomorrow. Yes, Dad...." there.'' Silence again, then, "All right, Dad, I'll speak to you tomorrow. Yes, Dad...."

I called up the stairs, "Tell the son of a bitch to find another free lawyer."

I heard Susan say, "Hold on, Dad. John just said, and I quote, 'Tell the son of a bitch to find another free lawyer.' Yes ...'' She called down to me, "Father says you're an ambulance chaser, an embarrassment to your father, and an incompetent."

"Tell him he's not half the man his his father was, and the best part of him ran down Augustus's leg." father was, and the best part of him ran down Augustus's leg."

Susan said, "Dad, John says he disagrees with that. Good night.'' I heard her hang up. She called down to me, "Good night, John."

I headed up the stairs. "I need my overnight bag."

I went into our bedroom to get my bag out of the closet, and Susan, who must have been undressing as she spoke on the phone, was lying on top of the sheets, her legs crossed and reading a magazine, stark naked.

Well, I mean, there's something about a naked woman, you know, and I was really feeling my oats and all, having just told William Stanhope what I thought of him, and there was his bitchy daughter, lying there stark naked. In some instinctive sort of way, I knew I had to ravish her to complete my victory. So I did. She seemed to enjoy it.

Now, a real primitive would have left afterward, to show his contempt for her and her whole clan. But I was pretty tired, and it was late, so I watched some TV and fell asleep.

Part V

The public be damned.-William Henry Vanderbilt Reply to a newspaper reporter, 1882

Twenty-five.

Despite my announcement that I was leaving home, or perhaps because of it, Susan and I were getting along better. We both agreed that I had been under some financial and professional strain, and that George's death had caused us both some emotional trauma, and even the sale of Stanhope Hall had probably contributed to my outburst in the restaurant and my announcement when we got home. I assured Susan, however, that I still thought her father was a monumental prick. She seemed willing to let it go at that.

Anyway, toward the end of July, Mr. Melzer called me at home to inform me that he had worked out a deal with the Internal Revenue Service. To wit: I would pay them $215,000 within sixty days and they would consider the obligation fulfilled. Mr. Melzer seemed pleased with his work. He said, "That is a savings to you of $99,513."

"But then I would owe you about fifty thousand dollars, Mr. Melzer, and I've already paid you twenty thousand. So really, Mr. Melzer, if you do a little arithmetic, you have saved me only about thirty thousand dollars. I could have done as well myself."

"But I did the work for you, Mr. Sutter.'' He cleared his throat over the phone. "And there was the matter of the criminal charges. That alone is worth-"

"Get them down another ten or shave your commission."

"But-"

I hung up. After a decent interval of an hour or so, Mr. Melzer called back. "They will take two hundred and ten thousand dollars, Mr. Sutter. That is the best I can do. I will make up the other five to you. Considering they could still bring criminal charges against you, I suggest you settle."

"I never understood, Mr. Melzer, why the IRS and the Mafia haven't merged."

Mr. Melzer chuckled and replied, "Professional jealousy.'' He added, "Can you have the check ready within sixty days?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll hand-deliver the check to the IRS and see that it is properly credited. That is part of my service."