The Good Twin(41)

“I have no idea, but he’s coming back, at eight o’clock. He said you’d better be home.”

“Dammit, not tonight,” he muttered to himself.

“So, are you coming home?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Look, you’re the one who hired him, not me. Whatever he wants, you need to straighten it out.”

“Shit!”

“You’ll come home?”

“I’ll be there,” he answered reluctantly.

He hung up, then sat back in his seat. This wasn’t good news. Maybe when Clark saw their house, their furnishings, he figured he’d settled too easily for the amount Ben offered. Maybe he thought Ben might be a perpetual payday. It didn’t matter. If Clark wanted more money, even if he claimed it was just once more, Ben knew it wouldn’t stop. He had to put an end to it right away. He’d been willing to kill Mullin, if it came to that, and Mullin had once been a friend. He’d have no remorse getting rid of Clark. He’d already done what Ben needed. Now he was excess baggage.

He picked up the phone again and called Lisa. He’d planned a big evening with her tonight, their first time going out to a restaurant together. Not just any restaurant, but the Gotham Bar and Grill, in Greenwich Village.

Before he even said a word, Lisa answered the phone, saying, “I hope you’re not calling to cancel.”

“Sorry, babe. Something came up at work, and I’m stuck here well into the night.” He heard a deep sigh on the other end. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”

“You better.”

“That’s a promise.” He intended to keep Lisa happy, at least until someone better came along.



As soon as he walked into the townhouse that night, Ben could smell something savory coming from the kitchen. “What’s cooking?” he asked Mallory as he stepped inside. She looked like a fifties housewife with her hair pulled back and an apron around her waist.

“Lamb stew,” she answered.

He glanced at his watch, saw it was ten to seven. “Will we be finished before Clark gets here?”

“It’s almost ready.”

He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, then headed into the den and plopped down on his favorite chair. He picked up the remote to turn on the TV, then slipped off his shoes and loosened his tie. It was too early for a Knicks game, but MSG Network was showing a rerun of an old game back in the late sixties between the Knicks and their fiercest rivals, the Boston Celtics, when the home team could actually win games.

Fifteen minutes later, Mallory popped her head into the den and asked if Ben wanted another beer. “Sure.”

Two minutes later, she was back, handed him the bottle, then sat down in the seat opposite him. He gave her a fleeting look, then turned back to the game. When Mallory didn’t move, he paused the game. “What?”

“I’ve been wondering. What made you think I would go along with your plan to kill Charly? I mean, when you first met me. You didn’t really know me then.”

“Sure I did. You’re Charly’s identical twin. She was greedy as hell, so you had to be, too.”

“But that could have been because of the way she was raised, not from genetics.”

“Well, you did go along, so what’s the point of the questions?”

“I was just curious. You were taking a big risk. I could have gone to the police. Or to Charly.”

“Your word against mine. I was already rich. You had nothing. I was pretty sure they’d believe me over you.”

“Well, speaking of nothing, how about fronting me some more money while we’re waiting for the payoff?”

Ben picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you brought that up. I’ve been thinking . . .”

He saw Mallory’s eyes narrow.

“I think the split needs to be something different from what we discussed.”

“Why?”

“Well, the business should really be out of the equation. Maybe it makes money, maybe it doesn’t. Either way, you wouldn’t have any expertise to bring to it, so you couldn’t run it. And I just don’t think there’s a market for selling a hedge fund.”

Mallory’s eyes bored into Ben. “Okay, so I’ll take the real estate in exchange for the business, and we’ll split the cash. That gives each of us over five hundred million.”

“You’re not going to stay in New York after we’re divorced. You won’t need the real estate. I’m going to keep the townhouse and the beach house. We’ll sell Rick’s apartment.”

“And split that?”

“I think you should get one hundred million as your share. Total.”

“What!” Mallory stood up and began pacing around the room. “That’s not our deal!”

“I want to start a charitable foundation, and donate the bulk of the money to it. When you think about it, a hundred million is an extraordinary amount of money. You’ll still be able to do anything you want for the rest of your life.”

“Maybe I want to start a charitable foundation myself.” Mallory whipped her head around and stared at the dark TV. After a few moments, she turned back and, with her lips drawn in a tight grimace, said, “We split the money, fifty-fifty.”