Last Night, page 5
“In Malibu,” Hadley said. “After they separated, Bernard stayed in an apartment they had on Wilshire.”
“I feel bad saying this, but I love his movies,” Kate said. “Or loved—I haven’t seen one in a long time.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Hadley said. “I love them, too. And at the beginning, I used to love him as well. He seemed wonderful at first, but that changed. Even though I completely get why Maddie left him, I can’t believe he would do this. The divorce is terrible, but I think it’s mostly the lawyers. They’re making a fortune off it, and it just keeps getting worse.”
“I guess with all those movies, there’s a lot to fight over,” Kate said.
Hadley gave a sad smile. “It wasn’t that at all. Bernard spent most of his money on alimony and child support for his previous wives. He was a wild man who bought vineyards and castles that dried up and crumbled. He has a weakness for yachts and vintage Porsches. He trusted the wrong advisers. No, he’s going after Maddie’s money. He’s broke. Maddie has a fortune.”
“An actual fortune?” Kate asked.
Hadley knew the word was sometimes thrown around, but in this case it was warranted. “Oh yes,” she said.
“Inherited from your family?” Kate asked.
“No.”
“How did she acquire it?” Conor asked.
“From her art.”
“She made art?” Kate asked. “What kind?”
“Her paintings. Early in her career, she did large installations. For a while it seemed that every big-name architect had to have one in the lobby of the newest and tallest glass tower, every brokerage house and top law firm wanted them in their boardrooms.” Hadley paused, thinking of how art ran in their family but Maddie’s had taken her into the stratosphere.
“That’s quite an accomplishment,” Kate said. “It’s a challenge for artists to make a living, much less attain that kind of success.”
“Well, it wasn’t until she began to license her work that things really took off. Reproductions, T-shirts, mugs, even a limited-edition Fiat. Then a line of clothing. A perfume company launched a fragrance based on one of her paintings. Almost all of these products came from her two most famous designs.”
“What designs?” Kate asked.
“The upside-down tiger and the swan on the back of the white whale.”
“MC!” Kate said, with shock and a burst of obvious delight. “Your sister is MC?”
“Yes. MC, Maddie Cooke—her maiden name.” Hadley turned up the cuff of Maddie’s coat; just inside, on the black silk lining, a tiny inverted tiger was embroidered in orange and black, bright-green thread for its emerald eyes. The swan and whale were inside the other sleeve, both images hidden from the world.
“Oh God,” Kate said. “What a brilliant artist. So many layers to her work—the sheer beauty of it, the way every painting was a poem. I’ve seen her exhibitions in New York and Paris. It made me sad when she stopped showing original work.”
“So many people say that. They think she turned commercial, just concentrated on making money. And she did make plenty—she’s a billionaire—but she had managers for that. She barely paid attention to it.” Hadley had to close her eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” Kate said. “Maddie is MC!”
“It’s so hard talking about Maddie this way. Kate, you said Maddie is MC—but it’s was now. She was MC,” Hadley said.
“No,” Kate said, putting her arm around Hadley. “She will always be MC. That work lives forever. It’s indelible, part of the world now. And Hadley, you will never lose her, I promise. Sisters are present tense, whether they are here or not. That’s how I still think of Beth.”
Hadley tried to let that in. She did feel it in her heart, but would it wear off? This time yesterday, Maddie had been alive. She had been sitting right here in Sea Garden, maybe even in the same chair where Hadley was now. She’d been dead for barely a few hours.
“Why did she stop showing new work?” Conor asked.
“Well, she had all that tremendous success when she was younger. She was only thirty when the licensing began. It scared her to think of her art becoming a commodity, so she stopped exhibiting.”
Kate’s eyes widened, and Hadley could see she got it. “But she kept painting?”
“In secret, yes,” Hadley said.
“How did she get the name Morrison?” Conor asked.
“It’s funny how Kate is all about the art, and you are all about the rest,” Hadley said.
“He’s just being a detective,” Kate said.
“Maddie was married twice,” Hadley said. “First to Johnny Morrison, right after art school. It only lasted about a year—they were really too young to know what they were doing—and it was about a year after that that she hit the big time. So he had no right to her money—not that he would have gone after it. It was an amicable split. She never legally changed her name back to Cooke.”
“And what about Bernard Lafond? I thought California had community property laws, that the couple automatically split the assets,” Conor said. “Why would their divorce be so contentious?”
“From what Maddie told me, community property only covers the money made or property bought during the marriage. They’ve been together for seven years, married for six. She made most of her money before they even met. She told me he has a right to some of her investments and a share of the real estate—she paid for the Malibu house, among others. She was happy to give him that. She felt it was fair, and she just wanted out.”
“Bernard is CeCe’s father?” Kate asked.
“Yes, they got married after she got pregnant. CeCe is named for his mother, who lives in France.”
“There’s an age difference,” Conor said.
“He’s old enough to be CeCe’s grandfather, but for the most part, he’s been a good dad. Even Maddie thought that, at least before things turned so vicious. Whether he turned it into a war or his lawyers did, it didn’t matter. It really tore Maddie up, and as much as she tried to shield CeCe from the worst, it has affected both of them.” Hadley sighed. “The crazy thing is, they had a prenup. Supposedly ironclad.”
“But you said Maddie was willing to give Bernard what sounds like a generous settlement,” Conor said.
“That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to go after both past and future earnings. His lawyers are working overtime to get the prenup overturned. Because Bernard claims he got used to a way of life, being married to her. The lawyers maintain he should be able to continue it.”
“Lawyers are good at finding loopholes,” Kate said.
“What happened between them, to cause the breakup?” Conor asked.
“He was envious of her success and jealous of anyone who came into her life.”
“Possessive?”
“Very. She never cheated on him, but he saw it everywhere—with old friends, new friends, even Johnny. He got to the point when he’d be upset when she and I spent time on the phone. He hated the time she took me to Paris—he felt that Paris was ‘their’ city, that she shouldn’t go there with anyone else, even me.”
“You said he envied her success,” Conor said.
“Yes, and that seemed crazy. It’s not as if he wasn’t incredibly successful, too. And famous. At first I really liked him, and I was overjoyed for Maddie—she’d found a partner who seemed equal to her, in terms of a big career,” Hadley said. She pictured her sister on the day she’d told Hadley she was getting married. Maddie had been full of light. She had beamed at Hadley, at everyone, as if she had discovered how to illuminate the world.
“It must have been hard for her to find someone who wasn’t threatened by her art and money,” Kate said.
“Yes,” Hadley said.
“But Bernard did feel threatened?” Conor asked.
“Very much so. Even though she was paying the bills and was always generous to him and his children,” Hadley said and closed her eyes. She knew that that was a big part of the problem. “Ultimately, Bernard wanted everything Maddie had yet resented her for giving it.”
“How many children does he have?” Kate asked.
“Seven,” Hadley said. “All grown with kids of their own. I never met them—they didn’t approve of him marrying Maddie, so they didn’t go to the wedding. They never accepted her into the family.”
“But she was generous to them?”
“She wanted to make Bernard happy—or to make him look good. He didn’t want them to know he had blown all the money. And I think Maddie hoped that if she opened her heart to them, they might soften toward her.”
“Did they?”
“No. They all live in Europe. I guess there were occasional visits to California, and at first, Maddie and Bernard saw two of his daughters when they stayed in France. But the last few times she was there, they couldn’t seem to get together. She felt as if his kids wrote him off, just because he loved her.”
“You said Bernard was jealous of her first husband. Was Maddie still in touch with him?”
“Oh yes,” Hadley said. “She and Johnny stayed friends after they split up. He was always part of our family. He and I work together.”
“What do you do?”
“We’re muralists,” Hadley said. “Maybe you’ve seen those big murals in seaside New England towns, with sailing ships and scenes from the waterfront history. New London, New Bedford, Rockport . . . a lot of them are by me and Johnny.”
“Art talent runs in your family,” Kate said.
“I’m nothing like Maddie. She was the true talent,” Hadley said.
“I know exactly the murals you’re talking about. I love them,” Kate said.
“Did Maddie mind you working with her ex-husband?” Conor asked.
“Not at all,” Hadley said. “There is nothing romantic between us. Johnny is almost like a brother—I’ve known him so long, know how much he loved Hadley, watched him with girlfriends along the way.”
“Is he with someone now?” Conor asked.
“Yes,” Hadley said.
Conor seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. “You don’t like her?”
“It’s not that; I’ve never even met her. It’s just that she seems insecure, from what he tells me. She wants him all to herself. And I say, ‘Go for it!’ As long as he finishes our murals, he’s all hers.”
“Kind of like Bernard with Maddie,” Kate said.
“Yes,” Hadley said. “Seems that way.” And that was probably the reason she felt guarded when it came to Johnny’s latest. She’d seen how destructive being possessive could be.
“How did Johnny feel about CeCe?” Conor asked.
“Everyone loves CeCe. Johnny had only met her recently, when Maddie bought this suite and moved back east to live.”
“Did he come here?” Conor asked.
“Not that I know of. Maddie brought CeCe to Newport a few times, where Johnny and I were doing a mural on a building on Creighton’s Wharf.”
“How did everyone seem?” Conor asked.
Hadley looked at the tall window, the balcony drifted with snow, police lights still glowing on the beach. She remembered handing CeCe her paintbrush, letting her paint a starfish on the seafloor. She could hear CeCe’s delighted squeals, see Maddie’s pride, and see Johnny as he exclaimed about what an excellent addition to the painting CeCe had made.
“It was all fine until Bernard called Maddie’s mobile,” Hadley said.
“What happened then?”
“We were having such a great time, but Maddie’s phone rang, and it was Bernard. He had called to talk to CeCe—Maddie never kept her from him, encouraged him to call whenever he wanted.”
“Was custody part of the fight?”
“No. Maddie had sole custody; he was clear that he wanted that. He said it was because it was best for CeCe, but Maddie thought it was also because he was too selfish to take care of her. Even though he wanted to keep the family intact, he also wanted to have his fun.”
“Other women?” Conor asked.
“That didn’t seem to be his thing,” Hadley said. “He was too obsessed with Maddie. But he liked being a movie star. Celebrity golf tournaments, playing poker with his own version of the Hollywood Rat Pack, driving his cars on Mulholland Highway—around ‘the Snake,’ a curve where he knows the photographers wait to snap fast cars. He loves having lunch at Nobu, hanging out at Malibu Kitchen with other Porsche owners. Coffee at Malibu Country Mart. Places he knows he’d be seen and photographed. He’s invited to every big premiere, and Maddie said he never missed one.”
“She didn’t like to go with him?” Conor asked.
“Sometimes she did,” Hadley said. “They had a nanny, and she could have gone out every night. But that wasn’t Maddie. She loved being home with CeCe.” Hadley could hear her sister’s voice. At first it had been full of longing and loneliness for her husband, but then it was angry. Bernard wanted to keep constant track of her, to judge and limit her activities with other people while he did whatever he desired.
“No wonder he wasn’t fighting for custody. He doesn’t leave lots of time to spend with CeCe,” Kate said.
“It’s true,” Hadley said. “But I believe he really does love her, and he does dote on her when they’re together. Before things went really bad, Maddie gave him generous visitation. She wanted CeCe to have a good relationship with her father.”
“So Bernard called when they were at the wharf with you. When was that?” Conor asked.
“October sometime. I remember we were all planning to go to a farm in Stonington when I finished work that day, to pick apples and pumpkins. Later we were going to carve jack-o’-lanterns.”
“How did the call go?”
“At first it seemed fine. I wasn’t paying attention, but all of a sudden CeCe began to cry, and Maddie grabbed the phone. I could tell the conversation was heated. Later she told me it was because Bernard had asked CeCe what she was doing, and she’d told him she was painting with us. Hearing that Johnny was there set him off. I guess he went nuts and said some terrible things to CeCe.” Hadley pictured her niece crying, dropping the phone, running to Maddie. And Maddie picking her up, trying to comfort her.
Conor nodded. “Did Maddie and CeCe see Bernard at any point after that?”
“No,” Hadley said. “In fact, the fight was so bad, and what Bernard said to CeCe was so traumatic, Maddie wouldn’t let him see CeCe. She had her lawyer file a motion for a restraining order and to suspend visitation.”
“And the outcome?” Conor asked.
“The motion was granted. Bernard was out. A hearing to restore his rights was scheduled for after the holidays.”
“Do you know what he said that made Maddie react that way?” Conor asked.
Hadley shivered just thinking about it. “Oh yes. She told me. He told CeCe that Maddie was exactly like Désirée, and she would end up just like her.”
“Who is that?” Conor asked.
“Désirée,” Kate said. “The title character of one of Bernard’s most famous movies.”
“I never saw it,” Conor said. “What happened to her?”
“It’s not so much the character,” Kate said, “but the actress who played her. Nathalie Guyard. The character cheated on Bernard’s character. There were rumors of a romance between them in real life.”
“Bernard claimed that wasn’t true,” Hadley said. “Besides, it was years before he met Maddie. The film won the Palme d’Or at Cannes—he and Nathalie were there for the ceremony—and the next morning she was found with her throat slit. In her hotel bed. With her two-year-old daughter in her crib beside the bed.”
“It was horrific,” Kate said. “I remember—it was all over the news. The stabbing was so savage, Nathalie’s blood splashed onto her daughter.”
“But would CeCe have known about it?” Conor asked. “It happened before she was born, and would anyone even have told her? How could she grasp what her father meant by mentioning Désirée? How would she know it was a threat?”
“He said, ‘Your mother will die like Désirée,’” Hadley said. She remembered how Maddie had been livid. Before Maddie had gotten the chance to tell her what Bernard had said, she’d bundled CeCe into the car and driven back home to the hotel. It wasn’t until later that she’d called Hadley.
“Well, that’s definitely a threat,” Kate said.
“That’s how I took it,” Hadley said, “when Maddie told me. He had basically hinted that her throat would be slit. That CeCe would be there to see it and left in her blood.”
“Hadley,” Kate said, “considering all that, you really don’t think he was capable of killing her?”
“Maddie didn’t believe he meant it. She said he was dramatic, that he’d only said it for effect. She said he was a wild artist. They were alike in that way—incredibly passionate people who didn’t always do a good job of controlling their emotions.”
“Still, he said it,” Kate said.
“I know. He is very theatrical—he likes shocking people,” Hadley said.
“But to not have the sense to keep it from CeCe . . . ,” Kate said.
“I hate him for what he said, but I can’t bring myself to believe he would have attacked Maddie—done that to her,” Hadley said, picturing the black hole in her sister’s head. “It’s unthinkable that he would have left CeCe without a mother. Someone else did this.”
“When did Maddie last see Johnny?” Conor asked.
“It’s not him, either,” Hadley said. “Don’t waste your time thinking that.”
“Still, when did she last see him?”
“I don’t know for sure. I didn’t keep tabs on her—and definitely not on him. He took us all for a sail, right before he hauled his boat for the winter, end of October, not long after that call. She brought CeCe to our worksite a couple more times, and they visited us in the studio. We have a space in Providence, in a big warehouse with other artists. I think she and Johnny made plans to have a drink, but I don’t know if it happened.”
“Bernard wouldn’t have liked that,” Kate said.
“He couldn’t have found out,” Hadley said. “Maddie obviously thought his jealousy was insane, nothing to do with her actual behavior, and even though she thought the Désirée comment was just heat of the moment, she wasn’t going to let him scare CeCe again. She never even told him she’d moved into the Ocean House. He had no clue whatsoever.”
