The Second Marriage, page 28
The High Court had found in their favor in the case against Vergottis, and he’d been ordered to pay staggering legal costs, which looked likely to bankrupt him. Ari had no remorse: it was the price of crossing him, he said. He’d also fallen out with Prince Rainier and had sold his shares in the Société des Bains de Mer, so she would never sing at the opera house there.
“That’s not true. I would never fall out with Costa,” he countered.
“Yes, but only because you can’t afford to; he knows where the bodies are buried.”
Ari laughed, knowing the truth of it.
“And I hope I will never fall out with you either.”
“You’d better not!” she warned. “I also could locate plenty of skeletons.”
ARI WAS IN a playful mood that autumn, probably because business was going well: he had lots of new schemes under his hat, which he boasted to her about. There had been a military coup in Greece and he was talking to the colonels in charge of the government about a massive project to build an oil refinery and an aluminum smelter outside of Athens. Project Omega, he called it. He’d made investments in South American gold and oil, in Manhattan property, in Persian chemicals, in tourism—Maria lost count of all the countries he had business interests in. The Onassis empire seemed to expand every time he drew breath, and she was proud of his success.
They went dancing one night that November, at Chez Régine, a fashionable nightclub in the Latin Quarter. They both drank too much and danced cheek to cheek to the latest hits: Gene Pitney’s “Something’s Gotten Hold of my Heart” and Frank Sinatra’s “Somethin’ Stupid.”
As they were leaving the club at two in the morning, both of them giggling and unsteady on their feet, there was the usual clutch of photographers outside, snapping away.
“Any truth in the rumors you two are getting married soon?” one called.
Maria turned to Ari, letting him answer.
“You’re too late,” he replied. “We got married fifteen days ago. It was a wonderful thing.”
The questions came thick and fast then, the camera shutters clicking like crazy.
Ari’s driver pulled up and they climbed into the backseat without further comment.
“They’ll be rushing off to search the marriage registers,” he said, smirking. “That will keep them busy.”
Maria wasn’t sure of how she felt about his flippant comment. To her, it was no laughing matter, but she played along. “Perhaps you should buy me a ring to confuse them further.”
“Perhaps I will,” he said, sliding his hand beneath her dress.
AFTER A DAMP and freezing winter in Paris, Maria and Ari flew to the Caribbean to board the Christina for a two-month cruise. They’d both had lingering colds, but, descending the steps of the plane into the vibrant color and warmth of Port of Spain, she felt instantly healthier. Milky turquoise water, pale gold sand, and skies full of birdsong: she breathed in the tropical scents.
The plan was to sail up through the Windward Islands to Haiti, where Ari had some business to attend to, then on to Jamaica. Maria planned to shed some weight and to work on her voice. She’d brought a tape recorder and would record herself, then adjust her delivery till she achieved a sound she was happy with.
She also planned to encourage Ari to cut back on the cigars and booze but knew it would have to be done with subtlety; he didn’t take orders gladly. Healthful food, swimming, and sun on their skin would do them both a world of good.
Less than a couple of weeks into the cruise, Ari got word that a rival Greek shipping millionaire, Stavros Niarchos, had presented the colonels running the country with a counterproposal to Project Omega, and his face went purple with rage. For a moment Maria feared apoplexy.
“How did you find out?” she asked.
“I have spies in Niarchos’s household. He can’t sneeze without me hearing about it.”
“Does he know about Project Omega? Maybe the government is trying to push up the level of your investment by bringing in competition.”
Ari was concentrating. “I’m not sure. His bid concerns bringing oil from the Middle East, mine from Russia. They’re not the same, but I have financial backers while he is putting up his own money. So if he fails, he could go bust.”
Maria could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain. “Are you planning to sabotage his bid?”
“I need to fly to New York,” he said, then caught her disappointed expression. “Don’t worry—I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.”
“Do you want me to come?” she asked, and was relieved when he said no. She was enjoying the Caribbean weather too much to exchange it for the snowstorm she’d read was hitting the Eastern Seaboard.
IT WAS ONLY after Ari left that Maria began to worry. In their last conversation about her “jealousy,” he had promised to tell her the truth whenever he dined with other women, in return for which she promised she would not throw a fit, but the agreement had yet to be tested.
After he returned, she waited a few hours before asking, in a casual tone, “Did you see Lee in New York?”
“No, but I gave Jacqueline and her children a lift to Palm Beach on my jet,” he replied. “You’ve got no idea how badly she is pestered if she takes a commercial flight. People approach her for autographs and photograph the children. She was grateful for my help.”
“I bet she was.”
He poked her in the ribs. “Is Maria jealous?”
“Not at all,” she replied, with dignity.
“Good,” he said. “Because I’ve invited Jacqueline to the Christina for a few days in May, after you fly back to Paris.”
This came as a hammer blow and she struggled to control herself. “Ari, why didn’t you invite her while I was here? I’d have loved to get to know her better. Why all the sneaking around?”
“She’s a very private person. Besides, she’s my friend, not yours.” He took out a cigar and began toasting it. Maria had hidden the ones he kept on board but guessed he must have brought more back with him.
She was upset that he clearly wanted to keep her and Mrs. Kennedy apart. The fact that he had told her should alleviate suspicion, but was he playing a game with both of them? “Should I be jealous?” she asked, watching his expression closely.
“Do as you wish,” he replied. “I’ll never understand women.”
“No, you probably won’t. Your entire knowledge of our sex comes from a Van Cleef & Arpels catalog.”
He laughed out loud and raised his glass to clink with hers. Maria wondered if she should be hurling glasses at his head and slinging punches, but there was no point; it wouldn’t stop him from doing exactly what he wanted to do.
She caught the Paris flight on May 20 and sobbed as the plane lifted off the tarmac. For two months she and Ari had felt as close as they ever had: talking, sunbathing, dancing, and making love under the stars—yet he could still invite another woman to join him as soon as she left. He’d be in Paris in a few weeks—he was sailing across on Christina—but already she missed him so badly that it was as if a hole had been punched right through her.
She knew Ari would make love to Mrs. Kennedy given half a chance, and she was sure he’d try. He thrived on conquest, and she would be a particularly eminent one. All her hopes were pinned on Mrs. Kennedy turning him down. Was there anything she could do to influence her?
By the time the plane landed in Paris, Maria had decided to make sure that Jackie knew the lay of the land. As soon as she got to Avenue Georges Mandel, she looked up the Fifth Avenue number—the number she’d never used before—in her address book and placed a call.
“Mrs. Kennedy?” she asked, upon hearing the famous voice on the other end of the line. “It’s Maria Callas.”
“Oh! Hello.” Jackie sounded wary.
Maria launched into the speech she had prepared. “I wanted to say how sorry I am to miss your visit to the Christina. I had to fly back to Paris but I told Ari that next time he simply must invite you while I’m there so we can get acquainted. We love entertaining together and—between ourselves—I think I’m rather better than him at planning menus. I warned him not to serve you steak every single night.”
There was a long pause, and she could hear Mrs. Kennedy’s breathing over the hisses and crackles of the transatlantic line before she answered: “I’m sure the food will be fine.”
“If you are able to pass a pharmacy before you leave, could you please take Ari some liver salts? I noticed he had run out and he does rely on them.” She smiled to herself. Ari would be mad at her for having passed that on.
“Of course.” She was clearly a woman of few words.
“I hope we meet again soon, Mrs. Kennedy. I’m sure we’d have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes. Thank you for calling.”
Afterward Maria had no regrets. If Jackie told Ari about the call, he’d be tickled by the idea of the two of them fighting over him. And if Mrs. Kennedy had any scruples, she would back down now she realized that Maria was still the woman in his life.
But if she decided to go ahead and sleep with him anyway, she hoped Ari would hurry up and mark that notch on his bedpost so that Mrs. Kennedy could be filed away, just like Eva Perón.
Chapter 54
New York City
May 22, 1968
After she hung up, Jackie sat for several minutes, shaken by the call. Ari must have told Maria of her forthcoming visit to the Christina. Her tone had been friendly but the subtext was a clear warning to back off. Perhaps she was still in love with him.
She felt bad for Maria, but Ari had been very clear that they were just good friends and hadn’t been lovers for a while. Maybe she hoped to win him back, but that was no reason for Jackie to change her mind about the cruise. It was only for four days, and there would be others present: his sister, Artemis, and Jackie’s friend Joan Thring. For some time she’d felt as if Ari had been edging toward making a move, but he’d have to be on his best behavior with the others around.
Jackie flew to St. Thomas on May 25 and slipped on board, a scarf covering her hair and huge sunglasses shielding her face.
“I mustn’t be photographed here,” she told Ari. “Bobby would kill me!”
“I understand,” he said. “We’ll raise anchor and set sail without delay.”
After dinner that evening, when the other guests had gone to bed, they sat on deck with nightcaps. The moon lit a path across the water, and the only sound was the lapping of waves against the bow. Jackie sipped her vodka. She hadn’t drunk enough yet to blot out the anxiety that chipped away at her brain.
“I’m so shaken about Martin Luther King,” she told him, a quiver in her voice. The popular civil rights leader had been assassinated in Memphis the previous month. “It seems America has gone mad. Anyone can buy a gun and take potshots at public figures. And now there are race riots everywhere. So much discontent, I can’t bear it.”
Ari swirled his brandy. “It’s true there are lunatics in the world, but fewer than you would think from reading the newspapers.”
Jackie shuddered. “It only takes one. The FBI tells me there’s been a surge of threats to kidnap or kill my children since King was shot. My children!”
“I don’t want to be unduly alarmist, but I would advise you to get more protection for them. An extra layer of security on top of what the government provides would make sense.”
Jackie hugged her knees to her chest. “That costs money. The Kennedys don’t give me enough to cover an expense like that.”
Ari waved his arm dismissively. “It’s not so much. I have a permanent team I could assign to you while the threat level is high. And you know you are always welcome to use my private jets, or to holiday on the Christina or Skorpios. No one sets foot there but my employees.”
“It’s very tempting,” Jackie said. “I’d love to escape for a while, but the world’s press would find out where I was and the Kennedys would be furious. It could harm Bobby’s election campaign. They might even cut off my allowance.”
“Don’t let money stand in the way of your happiness.” His eyes never left her. His meaning was clear.
“It’s not only money. They’re my children’s family. My family.”
“The real question is whether you want to escape from the Kennedys and make a life of your own,” he said, shifting his chair till he was so close she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. “Whether you are ready to love someone new.”
Jackie turned away. She had to admit she was attracted to him. She had always been attracted to powerful men, particularly rich ones; she couldn’t afford to fall for a pauper. Ari wasn’t Jack, but no man would ever match up to Jack. She was thirty-eight years old and fed up with being alone. It wasn’t sex she missed; it was the connection with another human being. Having someone care what she was doing with her day; someone to comfort her when the nightmares came; someone to have fun with. And Ari knew how to have fun. Life was never dull with him around.
“I can’t have affairs in my position. I’m the nation’s grieving widow. I need to behave with ‘moral probity.’” She tapped a cigarette from her pack and Ari leaned over to light it, his arm brushing hers.
“Do you really care what anyone else thinks?” he asked. “I’m surprised you give it a second thought.”
“I don’t want to become a hate figure,” she said. That reminded her: “By the way, Maria Callas telephoned me in Manhattan last week. She seems to believe you two are still an item.” Jackie inhaled deeply and held the smoke in her lungs as she waited for his reaction.
“Did she? I wonder how she got your number.” His brow creased as he tried to figure it out. “Well, no matter. I can’t be responsible for what Maria says. She’s a strong-minded woman. But I know my own position.”
He leaned close as if to kiss her, but Jackie pulled away. “I can’t just jump into bed with anyone, Telis. These things have a way of reaching the papers no matter how careful I am. I’d be accused of betraying Jack’s memory …”
“What would it take for you to let yourself love again?” he asked, stroking her shoulder with a finger.
She considered for a long time, then stubbed out her cigarette before answering. “I think the only way would be if I remarried. And even then I would be reviled in the States.”
“Married?” Onassis recoiled. The idea clearly hadn’t occurred to him. Jackie watched as he wrestled with his feelings. “I’m sure you will remarry one day,” he said at last. “But why wait? This is the 1960s, not the Dark Ages.”
Could she trust him? The problem was, he had nothing to lose, whereas for her everything was on the line.
“That’s the only way it could work for me,” she said, stubbing out her cigarette and rising to her feet. “All or nothing.”
She’d made the terms clear. Now the ball was in his court. He liked her, but how far would he go to woo her?
WHEN JACKIE RETURNED to New York, there was a message asking her to call Bobby. He was on the campaign trail, sleeping in a different state most nights and attending rallies or visiting schools and factories during the days. She had to call his office to find out where he would be that evening, and it was late when they finally managed to speak.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“It’s a disaster,” he said. “I lost Oregon. The California primary is on Tuesday and if I lose that too, I’m going to pull out.”
“Don’t make any hasty decisions,” she cautioned. “Think of all the states you’ve won. You’re well ahead in the race.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” He sounded dog tired. “But I rang because I have something rather awkward to discuss. I keep hearing whispers about you and Aristotle Onassis. Please tell me they’re not true.”
Jackie hesitated. “He does seem rather keen on me.”
Bobby sighed heavily. “And you?”
“I haven’t committed to anything.”
“For crying out loud, don’t let yourself be pictured with him in the press. You’ve got no idea how corrupt the man is.”
Jackie was irritated at being told whom she could and could not date. “Presumably he’s operating within the law, or he would have been charged with whatever crime you suspect him of.”
“There could well be charges down the line …” When Jackie didn’t reply, he continued, “Seriously, Jackie. If you ever trusted my judgment, trust me on this. He’s not one of the world’s good guys.”
“I’m an adult and I’ll make up my own mind about that.”
“I’ve got enough to worry about,” Bobby said sharply. “Make this go away.”
He hung up abruptly, leaving her seething. She felt like a teenager being told off by her mother. But for Jack’s sake, for the sake of the Kennedys, she would not make any decisions till after the election. Ari could wait.
Chapter 55
New York City
June 4, 1968
Jackie went to bed the night of June 4 feeling pleased for her brother-in-law. There was good news for Bobby’s campaign team that day: he had won both the South Dakota and the California primaries. The momentum seemed to have shifted again in his favor. Jackie had been at a rally that evening, and the cheering had raised the roof when word of the victories came through. She hadn’t wanted him to run, but now he was in the race she was rooting for him.
Just a few hours later she was awakened from deep sleep by the sound of the telephone. She grabbed the receiver, hoping it hadn’t disturbed the children.
“Jackie? It’s Stas. How is he?” His tone was urgent. Ominous.
“How’s who?” She wondered why Stas was calling so late. Had Lee done something stupid?
“Bobby.”
“It’s good news!” she said, yawning. “He won the California primary.”
There was a pause. “I’m so sorry, I thought you would have heard. Bobby’s been shot. In a hotel in Los Angeles. They’ve rushed him to the hospital.”
A scream burst out of her: “Oh, God, no!” Her whole body started trembling as she wailed “No, no, no!” It was as if a mist came down and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
