Chapter 2
When Janie Kent entered the large library at the west end of the house, she stopped with a jolt. Four people were present in the room. Three of them she did not know. But the fourth she knew very well. It was Jack Prescott, the love of her teen years.
"Come along," David Chalmers said, stopping at her side. "Perhaps you already know the other guests."
Janie did not answer. She stared straight ahead at Jack Prescott, who, upon Janie's entrance, rose from the chair where he had been sitting. His eyes bore into her. She looked away, then quickly gave her attention to the others who were present. There were two women and another man. The man was very distinguished looking and appeared to be in his early sixties. He was straight and lean and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at Janie. One of the women was young, perhaps only a few years older than Janie. Janie looked at her and just as quickly forgot her, for she was plain, thin, and without any qualities that seemed worthy of recognition. But the other woman was one who could not help but be remembered. She was in her mid-thirties, Janie guessed, and she had one of the most exquisite bodies Janie had ever seen. Her breasts were cone-shaped and partially in view because of the extremely low-cut cocktail dress she wore. She was very dark of hair and eyes, but her complexion was like cream. Her mouth was wide and vividly red. It seemed to play with smiling a lot. Janie found herself fascinated with the woman, so fascinated, in fact, that for a few moments she forgot the bore Jack Prescott's eyes drilled at her body.
"Well, I guess all of you know that this is Jane Kent," David Chalmers said to the others. He lightly touched at Janie's elbow and urged her forward.
They stopped right in front of Jack Prescott.
"Hello, sweetheart," Jack said, smiling at Janie.
"Hello, Jack," she answered, hoping her voice did not reveal the many thoughts his presence had created.
"And this is Mona Andrews," David said, nodding in the direction of the dark woman. "She's a distant cousin of your uncle's, therefore, a distant cousin of yours, too."
"How-do-you-do," Janie said, nodding.
"And how are you, precious little Janie," Mona said, taking a step forward and reaching out for both of Janie's hands, which were offered and taken and squeezed.
"You were a very little girl when I last saw you,"
Mona went on.
"I don't remember," Janie confessed, pulling her hands away from the woman.
"Of course you don't, precious. You were a baby. A mere baby."
"And this is Adam Longfellow," David said, indicating the distinguished looking man. "Adam is an old, old friend of your late uncle's. He's been abroad most of these recent years, however."
"My dear," the man said in clipped, precise tones.
Janie felt compelled to offer her hand. She did. Adam Longfellow took it. He, too, squeezed her fingers and Janie had the impression that he, like Mona Andrews, was trying to convey some mood of courage or encouragement. Or, perhaps sympathy.
"And, last, but certainly not least-and I do apologize for this out-of-order introduction of mine-this is Tracey Steel, one of your uncle's former secretaries," David said, reaching his hand out to present the plain, mousy blonde woman.
Janie acknowledged the introduction. So did Tracey, but in a shy, silent manner. Janie looked into the girl's eyes and saw that they watered, much as if she carried some constant, secret grief.
"Janie, you had better come over here and review old times with me," Jack Prescott said, walking up to her and circling his arm around her waist.
Janie looked at him. His hair was as blonde and crew-cut as ever. And his body still seemed ready to leap. She remembered that body, the way it had several times moved upon her. She shivered. Her nipples hardened. Then she moved out of the contact of Jack Prescott's arm.
"I'd really like to get this finished," she said to David Chalmers.
He grinned. "Sure you would. So, let's get to the solemn proceedings of the will's disclosure." He paused, and his grin widened, then he added, "Not so solemn, perhaps, but the wishes of the deceased nevertheless."
Jack Prescott slipped his hand under Janie's elbow, then directed her toward a couch. It seemed odd that she should be led like a stranger in her own home, but she permitted it. The others took chairs on either side of the couch. And David Chalmers, using the back of a chair as a kind of podium, stood facing them.
"First, there are a few things I should explain," David said. "Until the will is read, I have been designated by the court as administrator of Amos Kent's estate. That's why I've been the one who requested your appearance here tonight. Also, I shall continue to serve as co-administrator until all the requirements of the will have been completed."
David paused, cleared his throat, then looked directly and meaningfully at Janie. She could not hold his stare for some reason. She lowered her eyes to the pattern of the carpeting. Then she felt the nudge of Jack's knee against her thigh and she looked up at David again. But he was already looking at the group and beginning to speak again.
"I want to say something else, too," David continued. "I've had the pleasure of knowing Amos Kent very well these past few years. And, it was a pleasure. As you know, many people have considered him eccentric, and perhaps he was in some ways, but I knew him as an honest, imaginative and creative man whose curiosity about life and people was never dimmed. I believe that we will find the contents of his will reflecting this same curiosity about people. And, I hope we can appreciate it."
David paused, then stooped and withdrew several folders of legal-sized paper from his briefcase which rested on the floor next to the chair. He leafed through them for a few minutes.
"Are you ready to become a rich young woman?" Jack asked Janie, pressing his leg against hers again.
"I doubt that I'll ever be that," she said.
"You're wrong, baby," Jack said. "The old man was loaded. I mean really!"
Janie glanced at him, thinking that he had changed, that there was something quite different about Jack Prescott. She didn't know what it was, but she was very sure that she didn't like it.
"By the way," Jack continued whispering. "How come you never wrote me after leaving town?"
She flushed. "You know why."
"I don't, I don't," he said in a way that made her know he remembered very well.
"Well, let's just say that I've been busy," she said.
"Me too. So, what have you been busy with?" Jack asked.
"Many things, none of which concern you in the least," she said snippily. She moved her leg away from the press Jack imposed upon it and looked at David Chalmers.
"I'll start with reading the assets of the estate," David said. He leafed through some sheets and began reading, listing assets in property, stocks and bonds, savings accounts, checking accounts, insurance policies and other investments. He listed the few liabilities against the estate, too.
Janie listened to it all in awe-struck fashion. She had had no idea that her uncle was so wealthy, no idea at all, for he had always lived simply with no show of his wealth. And as her mind calculated his wealth-could not help but calculate it in terms of herself-a new rumble of excitement coursed through her body. It was an excitement of her work and what money could do for it, of the poverty-stricken and the sociological studies that needed to be made in that area and of the advantage of money for those studies. And for a few moments, Janie wondered what she would really do if her uncle's money was meant for disbursement to herself.
"So, all of this makes Amos Kent's estate very ample," David said.
"Ample," exploded Mona, the dark-haired beauty. "It makes him a hell of a lot more than that."
David nodded.
"It makes the old boy a millionaire if my calculations are correct," said the distinguished-looking Adam Longfellow.
"Yes," David Chalmers agreed. "And I might add that Amos made it all himself. He asked nothing of anyone. All he needed was the courage and foresight that was rightfully his. He used it very well, I would say."
"Very," chimed in Jack Prescott, again pressing Janie's thigh, at the same time trying to snuggle his arm to a position of intimacy against her right breast.
"Could we go on, please," Janie said to David.
"Of course." He looked at her coldly, then said, "And now we go to the bequests." David flipped over a sheet of paper, then began to read from it:
"To each of you present at this reading, with the exception of my niece, Jane Kent, I leave the sum of five thousand dollars. The reasons for the bequests are my own. Some of you will be surprised, others, I'm sure, will feel cheated, but let it be enough for me to say that I leave you this sum as a token of esteem and for services either already rendered to me, or services that are still to be rendered."
David paused.
Janie wondered what it meant. How could services still be rendered one after death?
"So, go forth and enjoy the five thousand in any way you see fit," David said, reading from the will again. "But enjoy it, I charge you, for pleasure is a sensation to be pursued in the most diligent manner."
Pleasure, thought Janie Kent. Indeed, it seemed that her poor uncle had been suffering mentally these past years. Pleasure! Leaving all that money for pleasure when there was so much that was needed in the world, so much that was needed by the sick and homeless and the poor. Pleasure!! Poor uncle. And the poor, poor society that he had denied.
"Now we come to you, Miss Kent," David Chalmers said, holding a new paper in front of him and looking over its edge into her eyes.
She nodded. A new silence filled the room. It was one of dramatic anticipation.
"To my niece, Jane Kent," David read, "I leave the remainder of my estate, all stocks and bonds, property, savings and checking accounts, everything, to be used or disposed of as she sees fit, and for the purpose of her own desires, provided that she fulfills the conditions precedent to this bequest within the period of ninety days, otherwise, the aforesaid not being complied with, the total of my estate shall be divided equally among those who are here present, with the exception of my niece who shall receive the amount of one hundred dollars, and this alone."
Janie felt embarrassed. She didn't know why, but she had the same feeling she knew as a little girl when she did something wrong, or didn't do something that she was supposed to do. It was a strange feeling, and with it there threaded through her mind and body a sensation of doom, of great, great trouble.
"The conditions that Amos set forth in his will are confidential," David said, moving his eyes to each of the others. "They are intended for Jane Kent alone-for her and for myself as her co-administrator of the estate, but I believe that you should and can know this, that the conditions Amos has set forth for Miss Kent are some of the results of the conclusions he has made about people after years of study. I don't know whether they will benefit mankind or not, but I do know that they must be complied with before this estate can be settled and before Miss Kent receives the considerable bounty that is hers."
Janie turned her head away when David looked at her this time. And for some reason, perhaps because she did not want to feel so alone, she did not reject the new pressure of Jack Prescott's arm against the side of her breast. When she did not, he pressed a little harder. Janie even encouraged it by leaning harder against him.
"Now, if the rest of you will excuse us, I have the remainder of the will to discuss with Miss Kent."
Adam Longfellow was the first to push up from his chair. Tracey Steel and Mona Andrews rose at the same time. And finally, after Adam Longfellow cast a severe look in Jack Prescott's direction, he too gave up his cuddlesome position next to Janie.
Each of them bid Janie and David good-night. Each of them wished her well on the unknown project that faced her. And Jack, at the door in the foyer, added something other than good wishes.
"I want to show you my farm while you're here, Janie," he told her.
"I'd-I'd like that, if I have time," she said.
"Good. When can I see you?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you staying?"
"At the motel."
"Great, Janie. I'll call you. We have an awful lot to catch up on, if you remember."
She did. It caused new embarrassment as she remembered the circumstances of their last time together.
Quickly, Janie was alone with David Chalmers.
"We can finish in the living room," he said. "But first, can I fix you a drink? And forgive me for sounding as if the house is mine. It's not-it's yours, but I've been used to using it as a kind of headquarters."
"Of course," she said.
"What about the drink?"
"A light one may do me just fine," she said.
He grinned. "Good judgment, but I think you had better have a strong one, if I may suggest it."
She looked at him strangely, but he only laughed and headed across the room to a portable bar as Janie seated herself upon the couch.
David was still smiling when he returned with two tall highballs on a tray. He placed them on the coffee table that fronted the couch. Then he hesitated a moment, and finally settled in a chair across from Janie.
They each sipped from their drinks. When they had finished and replaced the glasses on the table, David said, "I'm afraid your uncle has set down some rather difficult conditions precedent to his will. I don't think you're going to like them, but let me remind you that there's nearly two million dollars waiting for you."
"I'm aware of it," she said. "It's a lot of money. A lot can be done with it."
"Almost anything can be done with it," David said. He reached to the floor and withdrew some new papers and envelopes from his briefcase. He rested them on his lap, then took more of his drink.
Janie drank from her glass, too. She looked closely at David Chalmers, trying to make up her mind whether or not she liked him. He was different from anyone she had ever met.
"So, are you ready?" he asked.
"Ready," she said, trying to match the light tone of his words.
"I mean really ready-for the big one?"
"Ready for the big one," she repeated.
"All right. All the information is in these papers, one of the envelopes, I haven't seen, it's for you confidentially and it concerns the project your uncle lined up for you." He handed an envelope to Janie.
"Don't read it now," he cautioned. "It won't have meaning until you hear the rest of the assignment."
She nodded.
"You, Janie Kent, are charged with investigating the sex habits of the people of this town."
She didn't gasp aloud, but she did raise her hand to her mouth in a gesture of shock. And when she spoke her throat felt dry and clogged.
"The-the sex habits-of-of the people of Port Harris?"
"Yes," David said. "You know, a kind of minor Kinsey Report. You know all about Kinsey, I'm sure."
"Yes, of course, but why-why would Uncle Amos want this-require it of me?"
David leaned back. "There's a lot involved, Janie-by the way, I'll be working with you a bit, I might as well call you Janie and you call me David, don't you think?"
"Certainly."
"Well, your uncle these last few years grew very interested in the sex habits of people. He felt-and if I remember my psychology books correctly, there are quite a few good authorities to agree with him-that people are pretty much what their sex life makes them. He spent an entire year on a report of his own-a report of the sex habits of the people of this town, a report for which he must have made considerable research."
"Then why in the world does he want me to make such a report. He has one-good heavens, one should be enough."
"Amos was rather amused by sociologists and psychologists, liked to show them up or match them as often as possible. So, when you've completed your report, he wants you to compare it to his own. It doesn't have to agree with him. He merely wants you to see, as he states it, how close an observant person can be to sociological reports."
"He must have gone crazy," she exclaimed.
"Maybe," David agreed. "But two million dollars can hardly be called crazy."
"And I don't get it if I don't comply with this stupid request."
"Right."
She sighed, picked up her glass, finished the drink, replaced the glass on the table, leaned forward, then said, "I think you should know, Mr. Chal-David-that I'm not the least bit interested in this money for myself. I am interested in what I can do with it. The good things that it can produce."
"You're very noble," David said. Janie was sure he didn't mean it.
David handed Janie two large manila envelopes. "One of these contains some instructions, the other is your uncle's sex habit report. You're not to read the report until you've completed your own study."
She looked at the labels on the envelopes. David took one from her. I'd had better keep it," he said. "I wouldn't want any cheating you know."
He said, smiling, "I'll be at my office when you're ready for it. Oh, yes, you're charged with living continuously in Port Harris during your study."
"I can't go back to the city?" she exclaimed.
"No, not even for a day. It's all in your instructions."
"But my job-my work--. "
"You'll hardly need it when you get two million dollars," he said, a note of sarcasm in his tone.
"I'll always need my work," she said. "And my uncle's money can be a means to more of it for me-really great work."
"Well then, you'd better get on with the Port Harris Sex Query." David raised his glass and finished the drink in a swallow. Then he stood up.
Janie did too.
"Oh, yes," David Chalmers said. "You are to reside in this house."
"But I don't want to."
"It's required," David said. "And you had better arrange to have your things sent here, since you can't go back to the city to get them."
"I will," she said.
"Say, I just had a thought," he said. "This will business isn't interrupting anything like a romance, is it?"
"No."
"Good."
"Why?" she asked.
He looked thoughtful, glanced over all her body, then said, "I don't know."
They talked a few minutes more. Then David said, "I'll drive you to the motel. You are staying there for the night, aren't you?"
"If it doesn't violate the conditions of the will," she replied.
"I'll let you get away with it this one time," he said, smiling.
David locked the front door after they left the house. Then he handed Janie the keys. And then he saw her to his car and headed in the direction of the town's only motel.
Janie was quiet during the trip. But she could not quiet her vital awareness of the presence of David Chalmers. It was a strange feeling, one she had not known for a very long time. She wondered why it had come back to her now.