Phantom Point

by Gary Inbinder

Table of Contents

Chapter 24: Hugo and Eugenia

Hugo stood near the edge of the bluff, sketchbook and pastels in hand. From this vantage point, he had an excellent view of The Eyrie. This was a perfect day for sketching: mild with wispy clouds in a turquoise sky over a sparkling, cobalt sea. A few screeching gulls circled overhead and, high above, a hawk floated on the thermals, eyeing its prey below.

He worked quickly, with a sure eye and hand, roughing in the architectural details, including the hedge- and flowerbed-lined pergolas that snaked downward through the green terraces. He then concentrated on the balcony where he had spotted Max and Eve embracing in the moonlight. They appeared to his mind’s eye, and the vision took form in his sketch. He worked as though mesmerized or under the influence of a powerful drug; eye, hand and mind coordinated in perfect harmony to materialize the romantic scene in pastel.

Hugo stopped sketching. His thoughts turned to Eugenia. Lady Lilith, he called her, after a painting and a poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The focus of Rossetti’s composition was a beautiful young woman in her flowery boudoir, examining her face in a mirror. He recalled these lines from the accompanying poem:

Of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
That, ere the snake’s, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
And, subtly of herself contemplative,
Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flower; for where
Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
Lo! as that youth’s eyes burned at thine, so went
Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.

Hugo lit an opium cigarette, inhaled, closed his eyes and visualized Eugenia as Lilith. He concentrated on the woman’s face and her flowing reddish-gold hair. Eugenia and Rossetti’s Lilith seemed to merge in that face; you could see it in her expression as she contemplated her image in the looking glass. Her beauty was undeniable, but her eyes and blood-red lips were cruel.

She turned away from her reflection, her head rotating slowly on her slender neck. She put down the mirror and stared directly at Hugo. He recognized those deep blue-green eyes; older than the ocean, they had seen everything.

He tried to move, but he was trapped like a fly in a spider’s web. Eugenia emerged from the canvas and floated toward him.

She straddled his thighs, her golden hair lashed his face; her sinuous arms wriggled around him like pale serpents; her slender fingers lifted her flowing white gown. The predator grasped its prey with sharp talons. Those penetrating eyes entered his soul like a whirling drill bit, the heat of her flesh scorched him, and the odor of a thousand decaying flowers made him retch till he gagged on his own vomit.

Her hand entered his trousers, grasped his throbbing penis and drew it up into her hot, moist cavity. She rode Hugo as a merciless huntress rides her mount, whipping him on over fences, walls and fallen trees, down the deepest ditches and up the steepest slopes, across meadows and streams till he was lathered and blown.

When she had her fill of him, she left with a vile kiss as though her lovely red lips had feasted on carrion.

“You wanted to see me?” Eugenia said.

He awoke suddenly from his drug-induced fantasy, gasping for air like a drowning man breaching the waves for the last time.

“I see you’ve gone back to your opium cigarettes. I told you to stop.” She frowned and held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

“Haven’t you taken enough from me already?” He glared at her, took another puff on his cigarette and blew smoke in her face.

“Is this another one of your little games? Do you want me to punish you?”

“No, Eugenia, I’m through playing games. I know all about you and Williams, and your trips to Los Angeles.”

“Who told you that?” Her eyes widened; a hint of worry crept into her voice.

“What difference does it make? It’s true. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t fool me, Eugenia. I can read you like a book. I’m packing my paintings and leaving Phantom Point. You may have this sketch as a memento.”

Her face reddened and her eyes flashed, her mood changing as suddenly as the winds and tides at the point. “You don’t get off that easily. Go ahead. Leave. But not before you hear what I really think of you. Do you know what Dan Williams calls you?”

“I could care less what—”

“A little pansy. That’s what you are. A weak sister boy. Dressing like a girl, groveling at my feet, pretending I’m your governess. Isn’t that a game you played with your sister?”

“Stop it, Eugenia!”

“I saw the way your eyes lit up when that big, strong man came here to see you. He even liked the daubery you call art. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? Matt, or whatever his name is. Go crawl to him, you worm. Be his woman and see how he treats you!”

Hugo sprang forward, knocked Eugenia down, straddled her and grabbed her by the throat. She tried to fight him off but he had the strength of a madman. Her eyes stared wildly; she gasped for air as his grip tightened.

Three of the artists saw the struggle and ran to them. It took all three to pull Hugo away. The two Russians restrained him until he calmed down. The third, the Englishman, knelt by Eugenia and held her hand. “She’s coming around,” he said.

“Thank God,” said one of the Russians.

Eugenia groaned and slowly got up with the Englishman’s assistance. They started up the path slowly in the direction of the cabins. She glanced back at Hugo for an instant, turned away, covered her face with her hands and sobbed. The Englishman put his arm around her waist and supported her as they continued on.

“What happened?” one of the Russians asked Hugo.

“We had an argument. She said horrible things to me. I lost control. I’m leaving Phantom Point, the sooner the better. Will you help me pack and load my baggage on the buckboard?”

“Of course, Hugo.” Then to his companion: “Come on, Dmitri. Let’s go.”

Dmitri picked up Hugo’s sketchbook and admired the new pastel. “This is excellent,” he said. He walked over and handed the book to Hugo.

Hugo examined his sketch for a moment, then returned the book to Dmitri. “Keep it, my friend,” Hugo said with a sad smile. “Who knows? Someday it might be valuable.”

* * *

“There’s a gentleman at the front door asking for Matt Rogers. Says his name is Hugo Van Dorn. I guess he means you, Mr. Niemand, but no one’s supposed to know you’re here.” Sam made the announcement with a worried frown.

“That’s all right, Sam. I know the gentleman. I’ll see him out here on the terrace.”

“There’s a foreign-looking man with him, driving a buckboard.”

“Well, maybe you could show him a little hospitality. I’m sure Mr. Merwin won’t mind. Bring him something to drink while he’s waiting. And while you’re at it, bring out two more gin and tonics.”

Sam left to carry out his assigned tasks. Max was seated at a terrace table beneath the shade of a broad, yellow- and white-striped umbrella. He downed the watery remains of his drink and then fished out the lime and sucked the juice like a British sailor warding off scurvy.

Sam returned with Hugo and two fresh drinks on a silver tray. He set the tray on the table and announced the guest. “Mr. Hugo Van Dorn.” The houseboy eyed the pair suspiciously before making his exit.

“Nice to see you, Hugo. Have a seat.” Max smiled, got up and extended his hand.

Hugo shook hands, then sat across from Max. He remained silent for an awkward moment before saying, “I suppose you’re surprised to see me.”

“Yes, I am. How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you on an upstairs balcony last night. You were with a woman.”

“You got sharp eyes, kid.”

“Very sharp. It’s a gift, I suppose.”

Max smiled and made an offer. “Have a gin and tonic. It sure beats goat’s milk and well water.”

“Thanks, I will.” Hugo reached for a glass and took a sip.

“I’m going to give you the straight dope, and I trust you’ll do the same with me. My name isn’t Matt Rogers, and I’m not a real estate broker. I’m Max Niemand, private investigator. Your sister hired me for the same reason she hired Burgess. Everything else I’ve told you is pretty much on the level.”

“I see. I can’t say I’m completely surprised. But tell me something: do you really like my paintings?”

“Sure do. I’m self-educated, for the most part, but I go to the Art Institute and think I know something about the subject. From what I’ve seen of your work, I’d say you have a wonderful talent and plenty of skill to go with it. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Are you saying I should pursue my passion, my art, even if it goes against my family’s wishes?” Hugo raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Your sister hired me to do a job, to get you away from Eugenia and back to Chicago. Your father is ill, and he wants you to take over the business. You have a big decision to make. But maybe there’s room for compromise. I mean, you might be able to cut a deal with your sister where you can be free to continue painting.”

Hugo took a long swallow of his drink before saying, “Maybe. Truth is, Cassie wants to run the business with her lover, Jasper Morton.”

“Morton is her lover? That’s news to me.”

“It’s a well-kept secret. I guess they’ll get married following a decent interval after father dies. That’ll start tongues wagging in Chicago.”

“Sounds like you’re on top of things. What’s your plan?”

“Dmitri’s driving me into town. I’m going to wire Cassie and take the next train to Los Angeles. From there, it’s three days journey to Chicago. Assuming father is still alive and of sound mind when I arrive, I’m going to try to persuade him to change his will in Cassie’s favor. All I want is enough to support me in Paris where I hope to continue painting. What do you think?”

“It’s a swell plan, Hugo. I hope it works out. But make a good deal. Don’t let them take advantage of you. “

“Thanks, Max.” Hugo swallowed some gin and tonic, then paused to take in the view. “It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s grand, all right. But this is your world, Hugo, not mine. I used to envy guys who could afford to live this way. Maybe I still do.”

“Envied guys like me? All my life, I’ve wanted to be like you.” Hugo smiled and rattled the ice in his glass.

“It’s a bitch of a world. A guy wants what the other guy’s got. Then he meets that guy and finds out he wants something else.”

“Yes, it’s a bitch all right.” Hugo paused a moment before changing the subject. “A couple of days ago, when I was in town, I came across Virginia Moore. It wasn’t by chance; she was looking for me. She asked if I had seen you or knew where you were. At that time, I didn’t know. She gave me a message in the hope that I would run into you. It seemed cryptic to me, but here it is.

“She said she was sorry, and you would know why. Next, she said she had searched Williams’ files and found the evidence you were looking for. That’s all. She left suddenly, without another word. We met in a public square and, all the time we were together, she was looking around as though we were being watched. She seemed frightened, almost distraught. Does any of this make sense to you?”

“Yes, it does. Thanks, Hugo. I’ve some unfinished business here. When that’s over, I’m going back to Chicago. Please pass that on to your sister when you see her.”

“I will.” He pulled out his watch. “I’d better leave. Before I go, I’d like to ask you something. You might think it’s impertinent, and I’ll understand if you don’t answer.”

“Shoot.”

“The woman you were with on the balcony last night. Do you love her?”

The question surprised Max. Men in his crowd might talk about “dames,” but they rarely if ever mentioned love. But he figured artists were different. “Frankly, I don’t know. She’s a lady. I admire and respect ladies, but I always wind up with the whores. Does that answer your question?”

Hugo smiled and shrugged but said nothing. He finished his drink and got up from the table. He and Max shook hands and said goodbye. Then Hugo added, “I’d like you to promise me something, Max. Please ask Mr. Merwin to be fair with the artists at Phantom Point. He’s one of the biggest property owners in the state, and he can afford to be generous. He should be able to find another place for them, and it would enhance his reputation as a patron of the arts. As for Eugenia... well, he can deal with her as he pleases.”

Max smiled. “I promise I’ll speak to him about the artists, and I believe I have the means of persuading him. Have a safe trip and give my regards to your sister and Mr. Morton.”

Proceed to Chapter 25...

Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder