The Gate House by Nelson DeMille

Author:Nelson DeMille
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Detective and mystery stories, Lawyers, Long Island (N.Y.), Mafia, Betrayal, Revenge, Crime, Fiction, Thrillers, Suspense, Legal stories, FIC030000, Mystery fiction, General
ISBN: 9780446533423
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2008-10-28T04:50:23+00:00

PART III

The Present is the living sum-total of the Past.

— Thomas Carlyle “Characteristics”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The next morning, Tuesday, was partly cloudy, and after a run on the beach and a soul-nourishing spa breakfast, we headed home to Lattingtown and Stanhope Hall. This is a drive of about two hours, and during that time we spoke a little about the last ten years, trying to fill in some of what Susan referred to as “the lost years.” Also lost and missing was any mention of significant or insignificant others, so there were some gaps in the historical record. Sort of like black holes. She did remind me, however, “Call Samantha.”

I thought about asking her when, where, and how she and Frank Bellarosa first hooked up, but she wouldn’t like that question. Also, I realized that this was not bothering me any longer, so maybe I was really getting over it, and getting on with it.

I pulled into the gates of Stanhope Hall, and we noticed a moving van parked to the side of the gatehouse. I also saw Elizabeth’s SUV, so I pulled over, and Susan and I got out and went inside the gatehouse.

Elizabeth, in jeans and a T-shirt, was in the foyer, supervising the move. She saw us and said, “Good morning. I stopped by the guest cottage to tell you I was going to clean out the house, but you weren’t home.” She added, “I thought it would be a good idea to just get this done, so we don’t have to negotiate for time with Nasim after the funeral.” She then looked at me and said, “John, I hope I’m not kicking you out.”

Well, no, but you are burning my bridges, and now I can’t come back here when the Stanhopes arrive.

“John?”

“No. I’m finished with the house.”

“That’s what you said.” Elizabeth offered, “The movers will take all your boxes and files to the guest cottage, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I said before she mentioned her previous offer to store me and my files in her house.

Susan asked Elizabeth, “How is your mother doing?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “The same.” She added, “I know the end is near, and I can’t believe it . . . but I’ve accepted it.” She looked around the gatehouse and said, “They were here for over sixty years . . . and now . . . well, life goes on.” She said to Susan, “I asked John if Nasim would consider selling the house, but Nasim wants it for himself.” She pointed out, “We could have been neighbors again.”

Susan replied, in what sounded like a sincere tone, “That would have been wonderful.” She informed Elizabeth, “I was going to have my cleaning lady do some work, and I’m sorry if John left a mess.”

John wanted to say that Elizabeth left more of a mess than John left, but John knows when to keep his mouth shut.

Elizabeth assured Susan, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m out of here, and Nasim can do what he wants.” She informed us, “He drove by before, and I told him that he could have the house as of now.

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