The Hellfire Club Read Online Free PDF

hardly a critic.”
    “I hardly want a
critic.
” Daisy leaned forward over her stomach and stubbed out the cigarette. “It might be interesting. Fresh pair of eyes and all that. I’ll think about it.”
    A rap sounded at the door, and Maria came in with two tall drinks on a tray. She removed Daisy’s empty glass and placed Nora’s second beside her nearly untouched first. “I give you extra jar mayonnaise to take home, Mrs. Nora.”
    Nora thanked her.
    “Are the boys doing all right down there, Maria?”
    “Doing beautiful.”
    “No shouts? No threats?” Nora had rarely seen this side of Daisy.
    Maria smiled and shook her head.
    “Are they talking about anything interesting?”
    Maria’s smile went rigid.
    “Oh, I see. Well, if they ask, which they won’t, you can tell them that
everything
we’re talking about is interesting.”
    It struck Nora that the closest relationship Daisy had was with Maria.
    Daisy surprised her again by winking at her. “Isn’t that right, dear?” This bright, lively Daisy had appeared immediately after Nora had suggested looking at her manuscript.
    Nora said yes, it was interesting, and Maria beamed at her before leaving.
    “What do you think they’re talking about downstairs?”
    “Want to make a publisher’s heart go
trip trap, trip trap,
like the baby goat walking over the bridge? Show him a nice, juicy crime, what he would call a ‘true crime.’ ” Daisy smiled another mirthless smile and took a swallow of the fresh drink. “Don’t you love that term? I think I’ll commit a true crime. Right after I commit a nonfiction novel.
Trip trap, trip trap, trip trap.
” She opened her mouth, rolled up her eyes, and patted her heart in mock ecstasy. “I know, I’ll commit a true crime by writing a nonfiction novel about Hugo Driver!” Daisy giggled. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing all these years! Maybe Alden will give me a million dollars and I’ll go away to Tahiti!”
    “Maybe I’ll come with you,” Nora said. It would be fun going to Tahiti with this Daisy Chancel.
    Daisy wagged a fat forefinger. “No, you won’t. No, you won’t. You can’t go away and leave Davey all alone.”
    “I suppose not,” Nora said.
    “No, no, no,” Daisy said. “Nope.”
    “Of course not,” Nora said. “Are you really writing a non-fiction novel?”
    The older woman was nearly gloating, as if she knew secrets so outlandish that she could hint eternally without ever divulging them. Nora took in her shining, slightly filmy eyes and understood that Daisy was going to let her read her manuscript.

8
    “SURE, EVERY WOMAN in Westerholm is frightened,” Alden said. “They’re supposed to be.”
    “What do you mean, supposed to be?” Nora asked.
    “You think I’m defending murder.”
    “No, I just want to know what you meant.”
    He surveyed the table. “When Nora looks at me, she sees the devil.”
    “A
nonfiction
devil,” said Daisy.
    “Dad, I don’t think I understand, either.”
    “Alden wants people to think he’s the nonfiction . . . true crime . . . devil.” Daisy had reached the stage of speaking with exaggerated care.
    “The devil does, too,” Nora said, irritated.
    “Exactly,” Alden said. “Wherever this fellow goes, he’s hot stuff. He gets his weekly copy of the
Westerholm News
, and he’s on the front page.”
    He helped himself to another portion of lobster salad and signaled Jeffrey, generally referred to as “the Italian girl’s nephew,” to pour more wine. Jeffrey took the bottle from the ice bucket, wiped it on a white towel, and went to the end of the table to refill Daisy’s glass. He moved up the table, and Nora put her hand over the top of her glass. Jeffrey gave her a comic scowl before he went to the head of the table.
    Nora had never known what to make of Jeffrey. Tall, of an age somewhere between forty-five and fifty-five, his speech without accent, his fair brown hair thinning evenly across his crown, Jeffrey was an