A Shroud for Jesso

Chapter Seventeen

When Jesso heard Renette pass his door, he gave her a few minutes and then went to her suite, behind the bend of the hallway. Downstairs there was music and polite laughter, but Jesso hardly heard it.

The first thing Jesso saw was the maid leaving, and there was no argument about it this time. She was carrying Renette’s dress and a few other things, and she left the door ajar for him when she saw him coming.

The big light was on in the room, so Jesso turned it off. Just the faint one by the bed was left. Renette was humming behind the door where the dressing room was. Jesso didn’t go in. He went back to his room and got himself pajamas. He hadn’t noticed before, but there was a small crest on one pocket; the von Lohe brand, most likely.

She was waiting for him. He could see her through the milky white thing she was wearing, white where it gathered and live skin tones where the thing stretched.

“Don’t come any closer,” she said. “Your suit scratches.”

Then she turned for him, wanting him to look. “I’ve done all the looking I’m going to,” he said.

“I’ll yell,” she said.

“I know you will.” But he didn’t go any closer. He went to the bathroom and took a shower. When he was through they pulled the quilted seat she had in the bedroom to the window and sat there looking out over the garden. The watery moon sent shafts of light here and there, and glittered on the cut glass of the decanter by the seat. It was a sweet liqueur with a curled gold leaf floating along the bottom, the kind of drink Jesso didn’t even know. He watched how she tasted it, and he had some and thought it was good too. They had more and sat on the seat.

“Turn some,” he said. “You’re poking me.”

“I have big hips.”

“Good.”

“If I turn I’ll just poke you somewhere else.”

“Good.”

She turned and they sat still.

“You know, I’ve never seen that garden at night.”

“I haven’t either.”

“Look at it sometime.”

“I will.”

“Not now.”

“I’m not looking now.”

“I know, Jesso.”

“Done with your glass?”

“Put it down for me, please?”

“Just drop it.”

She dropped it and looked where it rolled. “I might step on it in the dark.”

“You won’t. I’ll carry you.”

“Carry me now, Jesso.”

And then the door made an oiled movement, swung wide, and the big light overhead came on like an explosion. Jesso let go and jerked around just as Helmut closed the door. Then Jesso’s voice came like a bellow.

“What in hell do you want?”

It shook the Baron. It was an insult to which there was no answer. A moment later he drew himself up and sounded cultured.

“I’m sorry the light startled you. It must have-”

“It did. So turn it off.”

This made another pause and when the Baron found his voice again it was edged.

“Actually,” and he smiled with his mouth, “I came to see my wife.”

“Scram, Helmut.”

“Renette,” and he looked past Jesso, “I would like you to come now.”

She had turned in the seat and made a face. “But Helmut, I don’t understand your-“

“As your husband I demand-”

“Shut up, Helmut. You interrupted her.”

Renette frowned. “Just what do you mean, Helmut?”

“I know what that sonofabitch means!” Jesso was barking. He jumped up from the seat and watched the Baron take a step back. The Baron fiddled with his cuff links and his voice had a slice to it.

“Do not take my leniency for granted, Jesso.” He started a thin smile. “I will overlook your intrusion. However, at the moment I desire the presence of my wife. I assure you she is well able to forego your-“

“Get out.” It wasn’t very loud.

“Why, Jesso. You have affrontery-”

Then Jesso roared again. “You think you can talk like that just because she’s your wife? Now scram!” Jesso went across the room fast, but by the time he got to the door it had closed again and the Baron was gone. He was bolting down the hallway like a puppet on too many wires, even forgetting about his hair, which had flapped out of place, showing the skull.