Belva Plain - The Carousel

A Dell Book
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036

Copyright 1995 by Bar-Nan Creations, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Delacorte Press, New York, New York.

The trademark Dell is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

eISBN: 978-0-307-78945-7

Reprinted by arrangement with Delacorte Press

Published simultaneously in Canada

v3.1

On a table in the center of the upstairs sitting room stood the carousel. High as a wedding cake, and of purest silver, it drew to itself every ray of the lamplight, returning each, magnified and glittering, to the dimmest corners of the room. It was a paragon of the silversmiths art. The horses pranced; the children riding wore ribboned hats; pennants above the rooftop balustrade appeared to fly as though a wind were moving through; all was fretwork, filigree, and rococo.

Absurd, extravagant toy. Yet it had linked the momentous events of a life. The birth of love. Grief. And now, murder

Contents

Chapter One

March 1990

S he was not ready to go home, and not ready to face anybody, neither the five-year-old nor the infant, not prepared to answer the telephone or speak a civil word, after what had just happened during this past hour. Never had Sally Grey felt so wretched, so small, as if she had physically shrunk, as she sat huddled behind the wheel of the car and fled the city.

On the first plateau in the chain of mountains that stretched toward Canada, a scenic overlook had been set aside, very likely for the benefit of tourists. On this waning, windy afternoon it was deserted, and here she stopped the car. Below lay Scythia, an old city, its small factories ringed by tracts of new-built bungalows and highways; beyond them to the east, west, and south came farms. In the north, the dark mountains.

Lights winked on in scattered spots, but to Sallys left, where lay the headquarters of Greys Foods, light was a solid yellow oblong, marking the place to which one quarter of the citys population was in some way connected, either employed by the company or related to someone who was. As to that, the other three quarters of Scythia had been touched in some way by the Grey familys generosity: the library, the hospital, the neighborhood swimming pools, all were gifts from the Greys.

Youre thinking such things dont happen in families like yours. I understand, that woman, that doctor, had said.

No, Sally had thought, you dont understand. You thought I was feeling some sort of superiority, above the flaws of the common people, that I was feeling some sort of nasty, idiotic snobbishness. But I was thinking only of how happy we have been, of how pure our life has been. Pure. Such a Victorian word! But all the same, it fitted. There had been nothing dirty in their lives until now.

Somewhere within that compact mass of light, at this very moment Dan was working at his desk, not knowing. Tonight he would have to know. And if it should be trueno, of course it cannot be true, of course notit would devastate him. His baby! His darling Tina.

No, theres no doubt in my mind. Your Tina has been molested. Sexually abused.

Dr. Lisle had already explained herself at length, but still Sally had simply stared at her. She had a homely, square face and a cool manner, this woman who, although no older than Sally, was dressed in authority, buttressed by professional knowledge.

Scolding me, thats how she sounds, as if I were a schoolgirl instead of a woman who has had her own experiences, has traveled all over the world in peace and war with her cameras, having her photographs published all over the world. Well, I guess the truth is we simply dont like each other. What kind of a crazy thing is this to tell me?

And as if looking for help, she stared about the spare, plain office. Its inexpensive desk and chairs were new. Its diplomas and certificates were recent. The view led over the back of a run-down three-story commercial building in the run-down heart of town. It was an uncomfortable, dispiriting place with no help in it. But the doctor had been so well recommended!

This is incredible, Sally said abruptly.

No, its credible.

I cant believe you. I wont believe you. How can you even think of such a thing?

Its natural for you to resist. What parent would want to believe it?

Its incredible.

Its credible, Mrs. Grey.

I live with Tina! I bathe her, and Ive never seen a sign of

There doesnt have to be penetration. There are other ways, as you know.

Revolting images flared. She had almost felt them burning, pressing inside her skull.

Yes, I know. I read. But how can you be so sure? Has Tina told you anything?

Not directly, in so many words. Children rarely do. Theyre too afraid.

Well, then, I ask you, how do you know?

There are many ways. For example, they play with dolls. Mine here are anatomically correct. I watch the child, I talk to her, and I listen while she talks to herself.

Tell me what Tina says. Exactly what you remember.

The doctor put on her reading glasses. How long it took for her to fumble in the case and adjust them on her nose! It was a torture to watch.

And now, in the car, remembering, reliving, Sallys head began to pound.

Here. Friday the tenth, the visit before last. I quote: You take your panties off, then you put that thing

Oh, no!

And you put your mouth

Oh, no!

Then she took the doll and threw it across the room, and she cried. Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Grey? I can stop if you wish.

All right, stop. I have the picture.

It was then that there had come the onset of terror, a quick, slashing pain in the chest and wet hands, twisting themselves together until the ring dug into the flesh. It was then, too, that she had straightened her back and sat up. For if you panic, Sally, you drown.

She said positively, Tina is never left with strangers. Shes very well supervised, by me when Im home and by a marvelous nanny, a sweet, grandmotherly lady who helps take care of Susannah, the baby, and takes charge of everything when I go away on business. Im a photographer, you remember. But I never stay away for more than a few days at a time. No, it cant be, Doctor. Itsits bizarre. Your diagnosis has to be mistaken.

Tell me, then, how for example you explain Tinas talk to the doll?

Well, children of that age are just starting to discover things, arent they? And Im sure there are children in school who have older siblings whove told them about sex. God knows theres enough of it on television. We dont let Tina watch much television, but many other people do, and it filters down to the rest of the kids.

The doctor waited. She had been trained to observe, to listen for what people did not say. Sally knew that, and she sat up even higher in the chair.

How have things gone this past week? the doctor asked.

Yes, Sally thought, lets get back to reality, let me give you some plain facts and then you tell me how to deal with them, if you can. Fact, not fantasies.

And she said honestly, The same. On and off. Sometimes the average five-year-old and sometimes not.