SALANDER'S DECISION CAME moments later, heralded1 by a long, breathy sigh.
"Yes, I am scared," he said, shivering. "First Lo, then her mother."
No mention of Michelle and Lance. He had more to fear than he knew.
Milo said, "Jane Abbot's death confirmed your suspicion."
Salander nodded.
Milo leaned over him. "I need to tell you, Andy. There may be others as well."
"Oh my God—"
"Terror tactics," muttered LeMoyne.
Milo stepped over to the desk and shadowed the older man. "A little fear wouldn't be a bad idea for you either, sir."
LeMoyne's face lost color, but he smiled. "I've swum with the sharks, my friend."
Milo smiled back. "You've swum with trout2, my friend. We're talking Great White."
"Ah," said LeMoyne. "I shudder3."
"What others?" said Salander.
"Associates of Lauren," said Milo. "Now tell me what scares you, Andy."
"I think I may know why Lo was murdered—I mean, I can't be sure— but right from the beginning I wondered about it."
"Wondered about what, Andy?"
"The money. It's always about money, right?"
"More often than not."
Salander rocked some more.
Milo said, "Tell me about the money."
"She—Lo— I always wondered how she supported herself. 'Cause she never worked much except for that part-time research job, and that couldn't pay for Moschino and Prada and Jimmy Choo, right? Also, her attitude—she had that relaxed thing about money that you only get if you have it, know what I mean? In fact, when I first met her I thought she was a rich kid—inherited wealth. But she said she'd been on her own for years, so— I mean, I wasn't nosy5, but it made me wonder. She was a full-time6 student. Where was it all coming from? Then—after I moved in, maybe a month after—she happened to leave some mail out on the kitchen counter. On top was investment stuff, her portfolio7, from some broker8 up in Seattle. I'm no snoop, but she left it right out there on the table, so how could I help but see the zeros?"
"Lots of zeros."
"Lots," Salander agreed. "I never asked her about it, we never talked about it. And she was supergenerous—when we went out for a meal together, she always insisted on paying. When we antiqued, she'd buy me things—cufflinks, vintage shirts."
"Must be your boyish charm," muttered LeMoyne.
Salander's hand balled. "Once upon a time you thought so! Stop picking at me!"
LeMoyne brought the script closer to his eyeglasses.
Salander said, "You're a grump, but I still love you, Justin."
LeMoyne whispered something.
"What?" said Andy.
"Love you, too."
Salander smiled. "Thank you."
Milo said, "So the source of Lauren's money puzzled you. Did she ever talk about any other jobs she'd held? Before the research thing?"
"Modeling," said Salander. "She said she'd modeled—I told you that, didn't I."
"Anything besides modeling?"
Salander stared down at the bedspread. "No. Like what?"
"The girl was a hooker" said LeMoyne. "I keep telling you that."
"You don't know that, Justin!"
"Oh, Jesus, Andrew, I met her. She had hooker written all over her."
Milo said, "How many times did you meet her, Mr. LeMoyne?"
"Two or three times—in passing. But that was enough to know what she was. She was high-priced—no doubt about that. But she had the moves—the look, the walk, the whole phony-class thing going on. For all I know, she was trained by Gretchen Stengel."
"You know Gretchen Stengel?"
"I know of her," said LeMoyne. "Everyone in the industry does. We've never lunched, but I've certainly seen her around. And run into many of her little vixens. Back when Gretchen was plying10 her trade, you couldn't go anywhere that was anywhere without tripping over them."
"Easy to spot," said Milo.
LeMoyne rolled his eyes. "Even for you, Sherlock. Gretchen went for a type—cool but remotely friendly, the ready rap, the body, the clothes. The clothes were always the tip-off. A girl who shouldn't have been able to afford five grand worth of couture but wore it well."
LeMoyne smiled and closed the script. "Not that it helped. If you knew the difference between real class and bullshit. Every one of those girls had a certain . . . commonness. Trailer-park trying to morph into Grace Kelly."
He crossed his legs. "Beleeeve me, Detective, that takes more than aerobics11 and a crash course on what fork to use. Still, you can fool most of the people ..." To Salander: "She was a hooker, Andy."
Salander gazed up at Milo.
Milo said, "She did have that in her past, Andy."
"Oh . . ." Another labored12 sigh. "I'm tres naive13, aren't I? I guess it was right there in front of me, but I just didn't want to know— Not that it would've mattered. I don't judge, why should I judge? And I swear the whole time we lived together she never did anything illegal or brought anyone home—I guess when she took those long weekends she was . . . She told me ... I can't be blamed for believing her. Okay, fine, I'm naive and stupid." Staring at LeMoyne.
LeMoyne shook his head and reopened the script.
Milo said, "What did she tell you about the long weekends, Andy?"Salander squirmed. "I didn't say anything when you first came around because I wasn't sure— And it looks like now maybe it didn't have anything to do with it. Now that you're telling me she was . . . The thing is, I didn't want to make things complicated—"
LeMoyne's laughter cut him off. "You're babbling14, Andrew. They have no clue what the hell you're talking about."
Milo edged closer to Salander.
"What, Andy?"
"Her family," said Salander. "Her real family. She said she was going out to Malibu to reconnect with them. Since she'd learned who her real father was. Tony Duke. I guess she was . . . fantasizing, right? It's the world's greatest fantasy, right? Live your life one way and then find out all of a sudden that you're on a whole different level."
Milo sat down on the bed.
So did I.
Milo's notepad was out. His tie was loose. "When and how did she learn about this, Andrew?"
"When was last year," said Salander. "Maybe a year ago—just before we started rooming together. How is her mother told her. The two of them had started relating again. They hadn't talked for a long time, and then Jane started making overtures15 and they began trying to patch things up. Slowly—having lunch once in a while. It was at one of those lunches that Jane told her. They'd finished off a bottle of wine, gotten all girlie-chatty, and Jane just spilled it out. She said she'd met Duke while working as a flight attendant on a jet Duke had chartered—taking some models and a bunch of other people to the big island of Hawaii for a big photo spread and partying. Jane ended up serving Duke personally, and he invited her to spend the layover at some mansion16 he was renting. And ... it happened. Jane and Lo's dad—the one she thought was her dad, the asshole—were going together but hadn't decided17 to get married. When Jane found out she was pregnant, she convinced him to marry her."
"Talk about your false pretenses," said Justin LeMoyne. "It really does have story elements."
"The funny thing," said Salander, "finding out about Duke caused things to make sense for Lauren. Like why she couldn't stand her father— the one who raised her. She said she'd never related to her father, she'd always felt like a stranger to him—like there'd been this wall between them. Now she understood it."
"Jane never told him about Lauren's true paternity," I said.
"Lauren said no way, his temper was too bad for that. The marriage broke up anyway, but Jane told Lauren the whole time she was pregnant, she was paranoid he would find out, do something violent. Luckily, Lauren resembled Jane."
"Paranoid, but she kept the baby," I said.
"She told Lauren she'd always wanted a baby."
Tish Teague's outburst came back to me. Recounting Lauren's cruel parting comment: "You don't deserve a damn thing from me—you're not even my family and neither is he and neither are your rugrats."
No blood connection between Lauren and Lyle's little girls, yet Lauren had sought them out, brought them Christmas presents, only to withdraw. Ambivalent18. How lonely she must've been. . . .
"So Jane told Lauren about a year ago," said Milo. "When did Lauren tell you?"
"Soon after I moved in—maybe a couple of months later. At first, after we started rooming together, she was real up—happy all the time. Probably 'cause she'd just found out. But then her mood changed—she slid way down. Being a natural listener, I kept trying to help her open up. . . . When she did, it was after I'd cooked this big Italian dinner and we'd finished a whole bottle of Chianti—cheap wine's the great conversation starter, right?"
Milo shifted his bulk. "What was her mood when she told you?"
"At first she was kind of giddy about it—like isn't that cool, my real dad's a zillionaire. But then she got real quiet. I thought maybe because she felt she'd missed out on stuff—all those years she could've been a princess. I said something to that effect, but she said, no, that wasn't it at all. She wouldn't trade her life with anyone's, but the whole thing had just thrown her off balance. And—this was the main thing—after Jane told her, she got all freaked out and started pressuring Lo to forget about it, not to try to get in touch with Duke. Lauren thought that was cruel and manipulative, and she was right, don't you think? You can't just goand dump something on someone then try to hold them back. Lo was furious at Jane."
I said, "That's when she complained about Jane wanting to control her."
"Yes, exactly. She said Jane was a coward and a liar19 and totally full of shit to think she—Lauren—would just sit there and let someone else make up the rules. She was also mad that Jane had tried to bribe20 her to keep quiet—said it was sleazy."
"Bribe her how?"
"After Jane got divorced, she was real poor for a while. So she wrote to Tony Duke and he started sending her money. For her and for Lauren. Even though Lauren wasn't in the picture—she and Jane had lost contact for years. Jane claimed she spent only her part, put Lauren's share aside. When she and Lo connected, she started giving Lo a regular allowance, but she never told Lo where it really came from."
Milo and I exchanged glances. Both of us remembering the deposits in Lauren's portfolio. A hundred thousand payment four years ago, then fifty a year since.
"Big money?" said Milo.
"Lauren didn't specify21, but it must've been, right?" said Salander. "All those zeros. And the way she dressed. But the point was, Jane wasn't up front about it. Lied to Lauren about where Lauren's allowance was coming from."
"What did she tell her?"
"That her second husband was giving it to her—to Jane—and that Jane was sharing with Lauren, out of the goodness of her heart."
"Lauren believed that?"
"He's a rich TV producer, Mr. Abbot. Real generous with Jane. Jane was living like a rich woman now. But then, when Jane was trying to pressure Lauren not to blow the lid off the Duke thing, she told Lauren where the money had really come from, tried to make herself a saint—like 'I put myself on a limb for you, all those years you never talked to me, I still put your money aside.' And then she offered to give Lauren even more money if she'd stay away from Tony Duke."
"Why was she worried about that?"
"She told Lauren it would create a big mess, there was nothing to gain from it. Lauren suspected what she was really worried about was ticking off Tony Duke and jeopardizing22 her own allowance. Protecting her butt23. In Lo's mind, Jane was just trying to buy her off, and she was tired of being bought."
Salander turned silent. "I guess I know, now, what she meant."
"Ding," said LeMoyne, miming24 a bell ring.
Milo said, "So Jane wrote a letter to Duke, and he just started sending her money."
"Jane wouldn't give Lo the details—that was part of the frustration25. Jane got drunk and spilled out the whole story, then she just curled up and wouldn't tell Lauren any more."
"Can you blame her?" said LeMoyne. "The girl was a hooker. The mother had a golden goose farting into her hand and knew that if Duke found out he had a hooker kid, that would screw the deal. He's Mr. Wholesome26 Tits and Ass4, a daughter who earned her living on her knees would be bad PR." Smiling at Milo: "Right?"
"Good story line."
"It's my job." Chuckling27, LeMoyne returned to the script.
"So Jane tried to hold Lauren back," I said. "But Lauren wouldn't be held back. Made contact with the Dukes and went to see them in Malibu."
Salander said, "She never gave me the details, but she did say thank God for her computer—she used it to research the Dukes, didn't need her mother or anyone else 'cause she had technology on her side. She even showed it to me—had this cute little family tree thingie in there— this actual little tree full of apples with people's names on them."
Milo said, "Did you notice any of the names?"
"No, she didn't let me get that close—just wanted me to see the tree, and then brought it back into her room. Like she was proud of it. She said it was a genealogy28 program; she'd bought it and downloaded it herself." Salander flinched29. "And then when you called and asked about the computer and I realized it was gone . . . That's when I started to worry."
"That maybe someone wanted to get hold of the family data."
"That and the fact someone had gotten into our place. Then, when I heard about Jane." Salander bit his lip. "I started thinking: Maybe Lauren had misjudged her mother. Maybe Jane didn't want Lauren to get too close not because she was worried about getting cut off but because it was dangerous. What if Jane really cared and Lauren was never able to see that?"
Milo stood, paced the space between the bed and the window. "Did Lauren indicate that she'd ever actually made contact with Tony Duke?"
"No," said Salander. "All I know about is that tree thingie. But he does live in Malibu, right? That humongous place, with all the parties."
"What else did she tell you that could help me, Andy?"
"That's it, I promise. After that one time she spilled her guts30, she pulled back—just like Jane did with her. Mostly she stayed in her room, in front of that computer."
"Did she ever talk about other family members? Besides Tony Duke?"
Salander shook his head.
"What about girls she'd worked with?"
"Not that I recall."
"Michelle Salazar?"
"No."
"Shawna Yeager?"
"Uh-uh. She never talked about the past. And like I told you the first time, she didn't have any friends. A real loner."
"A girl and her computer," said Milo.
Salander said, "So sad." Then: "Now what?"
"Have you told anyone besides Mr. LeMoyne about any of this?"
"No." A glance at LeMoyne. "And all Justin wanted was to write up a treatment and register it—" He stopped. "That could be dangerous, huh? If someone at the Guild31 saw it and—"
"Oh, please," said LeMoyne. "No one in the Industry reads."
"Still," said Milo.
"Fine, fine," snapped LeMoyne. "Fine."
Milo turned to Salander. "Andy, I'll be needing you to repeat everything you've told me for a formal statement."
"It's the rules. We'll do it in a couple of days. Either down at the station or somewhere more private, if you're straight with me about sticking around. This time."
"More private," said Salander. "Definitely more private. Do you think we can move back to Justin's place? I mean, if Lauren and Jane died because Lauren was Tony Duke's daughter and I know about it—"
"That's the point, son," said Milo. "No one knows you know. If you're discreet33, I don't see any imminent34 danger. If you're not, I can't promise you anything."
Salander laughed hollowly.
"Something funny, Andy?"
"I was just thinking. About those times you came into The Cloisters35 and I served you. It's really a great job, tending bar. You have the power to make people happy—their moods just kind of fall into your hands. Not just the booze, it's everything—the listening. I knew you were a cop, someone told me. At first it bothered me. What an ugly world you must live in— I hoped you wouldn't start talking, didn't want to soak up all those negative vibes. But you never did. You just sat there and drank— you and that handsome doctor. Neither of you talked, you just drank in silence, then left. I started feeling sorry for you—no offense36. Soaking up those vibes yourself. But I also felt good about helping37 you—not that you had a problem, but you know what I mean. I was in charge, got those beers and shots delivered right on the money and everyone was happy. And now . . ."
Another laugh. "I'll be discreet, all right," said Salander. "I'm the soul of discretion38."
Outside, I said, "No imminent danger?"
"Not if he keeps his mouth shut."
"No grounds for protective custody39?"
"That's TV crap—LeMoyne's world. So was my line about Salander being a material witness. The truth is, he and old Justin are free to fly off to Antigua any damn time they please." He looked back at the Palm Court, cracked his knuckles40. "I always knew it was about money, but Tony Duke's daughter . . . Talk about high-stakes blackmail41."
I watched the traffic on Washington Boulevard, thinking about things Lauren had told me—that her parents hadn't been married when she'd been conceived. That they'd "brought me up with lies." The wall of ice between her and Lyle. The remark to Michelle about her mother "screwing up." How early had she sensed something wrong? What had the truth done to her?
Jane had called me in a panic after Lauren had disappeared. Knowing what Lauren was up to, suspecting the five-day absence was more than just another extended weekend. Trying to motivate the police but holding back facts that might've helped. Even after Lauren's death Milo had felt Jane had been less than helpful. I thought back to any hints she might have dropped, came up with only one: "Lauren's never gotten anything from her father, and maybe that was my fault."
Guilty—she had to have been tormented42. Yet it hadn't led her to finally open up. Worrying about her own safety. Justifiable43 fear.
And maybe something else: Lies had been the poisonous glue that held this family together.
"The time line fits," I said. "Lauren was arrested for prostitution in Reno when she was nineteen, called Lyle for bail44 money but he turned her down. I always wondered why she phoned him and not Jane, but maybe it was because she still cared what Jane thought. Still, stuck in jail, she might've turned to Jane. And maybe Jane came through. But she didn't give Lauren any of the money she'd collected from Tony Duke because she didn't think Lauren could handle it. Instead, she tried to reconnect with Lauren. It was a slow process—Lauren had been on the streets for three years, was sitting on a lot of anger, and she continued to hook and strip. But Jane persisted, and some kind of bond must've been formed. Because two years later—when Lauren was twenty-one—Jane did give her the money, using the Mel Abbot cover story. You remember how Jane emphasized to us how well Lauren and Mel got along."
He nodded. "Mel being a nice guy made it easier for Lauren to believe."
"Shortly after Lauren received the hundred thousand, she set up her investment account, went back to school, got her GED, enrolled45 in community college, quit working for Gretchen. Maybe all of that was part of a deal with Jane, or Lauren really wanted to get her life together. Every year after that she invested another fifty-thousand-dollar annual payment."
Milo said. "A deal. Give up the life, get rich." His hand landed on my shoulder, and his eyes took on that sad, sympathetic droop—the look that comes over him when he delivers bad news.
"I know," I said. "Lauren continued to freelance. Cash income, most of which she never declared and used for spending money."
Big tips. Expensive tastes. Rapprochement with her mother or not, Lauren had remained a very angry young woman. About missing out on all those years as Tony Duke's daughter. About the trade-offs she'd made.
What Andy Salander had called every little girl's fantasy had become Lauren's reality—only to twist and abort46.
"Maybe it wasn't blackmail," I said. "Just Lauren claiming her birthright—stepping forward and upsetting the family applecart."
"What, someone tied her up and shot her because she wanted emotional validation47?" Milo's hand got heavy, then it lifted. His eyes remained sad, and his voice got soft. "I know you want to believe something good about Lauren, but cold execution and all those other people dying says she tried to use her birthright to hit on the old man big-time. A fifty-grand-a-year allowance is one thing, a chunk48 of Duke Enterprises is another."
"Maybe I am denying," I said. "But think about it: Blackmail would only have worked if Tony Duke had something to hide, Milo. He sent money to Jane—and by extension to Lauren—for years. If he wanted to eliminate nuisances, why not do it right and have them killed right at the beginning?"
"Because he was dealing49 with Jane and Jane was reasonable. But once Lauren knew the truth, things got nasty— O impetuous youth. Jane knew what Lauren was capable of. That's why she tried to hold her back from contacting Duke. That's why when Lauren disappeared she suspected something was off. Not that it led her to tell me the truth."
"Jane tells her who her daddy is, then holds her back," I said. "It was manipulative."
"Or just a screwup. People make mistakes. Salander's right about cheap wine. Jane had been living with the secret for over twenty years. Her inhibitions finally dropped and she ran her mouth. Then she realized what she'd done, tried to get the Furies back in the box."
"Still," I said. "Dr. Maccaferri's presence at the estate says Duke's seriously ill. Why would he be worried now about acknowledging Lauren's paternity? On the contrary, wouldn't he want to connect? But there are people who'd view Lauren as the ultimate threat: a giant slice cut out of the inheritance pie."
He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. "Dugger and his sister."
"Lauren carried a gun but never used it. My theory was that she knew and trusted the killer50. Half sibs would fit that bill. Especially a half sib like Ben Dugger—outwardly such a nice guy. Lauren thought she had him pegged51, let down her guard. She thought she was the actress and he was the audience. That delusion52 cost her."
A pizza delivery truck sped into the lot, stopped, checked the address, continued toward the front door, and screeched53 to a halt in a No Parking zone. A kid wearing a blue baseball cap got out toting two flat white boxes.
Milo said, "Yo!" and waved him over. The kid stood there, and we jogged to his side. Hispanic, maybe eighteen, with hair cropped to the skin, Aztec features, puzzled black eyes.
"Here you go, friend," said Milo, peeling off two twenties. "Room two fifteen, just knock and leave it outside the door. And keep the change."
"Thanks, man—sir." The kid sprinted54 for the hotel, shoved at the door, vanished.
Milo said, "The Pizza Olympics. Offer enough positive reinforcement and we'd have ourselves a winning team in track and field." He motioned toward the unmarked, and we started walking across the lot.
I said, "Lauren probably thought she was after the money, but she was searching for Daddy. Pathetic."
"I wonder," he said, "if Lyle ever suspected Lauren wasn't his kid."
"Why?"
"Because it's just the thing Lauren might have told him out of spite. His finding out would explain how hostile he was when we notified him. Also why he's eager to pump me about Lauren's will. Not being her blood relative, he knows he's got no legal right to anything she left behind. But with Jane gone, who's gonna argue with him, and under the law his paternity's presumed. The Duke family's sure not gonna protest if he ends up with the money in Lauren's investment account. And even if he does manage to connect Lauren to Duke, he'd keep his mouth shut about it, 'cause that would squash his claim to three hundred grand. To them, that's chump change. To Lyle, it would be the windfall of his life."
"Lauren did made a crack to Tish Teague about her daughters not being family, so I can see her taunting55 Lyle. But he told us he and Jane had tried to have other kids, but all they could squeeze out was Lauren. So it was obviously Jane's problem. Still, if Lauren did take a dig at his manhood, it could've led to something else. Lyle's an angry guy who likes to drink and surrounds himself with firearms. He could've just lost it. Gone after Lauren, then Jane. Revenge for the lies. And now he hopes to profit."
"An alternative scenario," he muttered. Five steps later: "Nah, I don't like it. If Jane suspected Lyle had killed Lauren, that's something she would've been happy to spill. And Lyle doesn't connect to Michelle and Lance—he'd have no way to know them. No, the way Lauren was dispatched wasn't a crime of passion. Lyle's just a circling vulture who never gave a shit about Lauren—this girl had some life."
"Short life," I said, and my eyes began to hurt.
We reached the car.
"Lauren sitting at her computer," he said. "Researching her family tree."
"Discovering Ben Dugger. Learning about his experiment. She applied56 to be a paid subject—not for the money, for the connection. Got a confederate job instead, because she was beautiful and poised57. Used her looks and her charms to wangle her way into Dugger's confidence. He sweated, got irate58, when you pushed him about having a personal relationship with Lauren. Maybe she turned him on sexually, took advantage of that because that was her specialty59. But eventually she sprang the truth on him."
"Guess what, I'm your sister."
I nodded. "As family reunions went, it was a bust60. The money, but maybe also something else. I've always thought Dugger had some kind of sexual hang-up—at the very least he's sexually unconventional. If Lauren aroused him, discovering she was his sister could have ignited some serious incestuous panic. And rage. Toss in Lauren trying to horn in on his inheritance, and she was finished. She couldn't have picked a worse time to surface."
Rig tips. Lauren deluding61 herself that she was the dancer, knew the steps. But her life had been choreographed62 for her.
He opened the car door and got in. "Inheritance makes me wonder about something else, Alex. That story Cheryl Duke told you about the gas leak. What if that was no accident but an attempt to eliminate another couple of slices?"
My throat got tight, and my breath caught. "Baxter and Sage63. The dead dog tipped Cheryl off—she and the kids got lucky. But they also ended up back at the Duke estate. Under the control of the Duke family. It puts a whole new flavor on Kent Irving's remark about Cheryl being a neglectful mother: setting the stage so no one's shocked when the kids fall in the pool or tumble over the cliff or have a grisly mishap64 on that funicular or drown in the ocean."
"Cheryl fell asleep on the beach, so she's giving them more to work with."
"True," I said. "She's no genius. But why should she suspect? People without the capacity for evil can't imagine the worst of intentions."
"People who can't imagine become sweet targets."
"Those kids." I pictured high walls, metal gates, closed-circuit TV. Riptides.
He shook his head.
"Oh, Jesus," I said.
"Look, Alex, these people are bad, but they're not stupid. Bumping off the kids is gonna be messy, period. Doing it so soon after Lauren's death would be foolish—on the chance that anyone ever connects them to Lauren."
"But there might be some time pressure here. Tony Duke dying, wanting to tie up loose ends before the will's read. Isn't there some way in— just enough to scare them off?"
"What I can do right now is call Ruiz and Gallardo and ask for a look at Jane's finances. If some sort of money link between her and Duke can be verified—if she made copies of those letters she wrote him—that'll go a ways toward establishing a motive65 and justifying66 another visit to Dr. Dugger and hinting around. The risk, of course, is that Dugger and Anita and Brother-in-Law pull up their tents, get rid of evidence, hide behind lawyers, do whatever they have to do."
"Money and power," I said. "Some things never change."
He started up the car. "People in their position . . . Why should I lie to you? Getting to them is not going to be easy."
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heralded
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trout
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shudder
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ass
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nosy
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full-time
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portfolio
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broker
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grumble
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plying
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aerobics
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labored
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naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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ambivalent
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| adj.含糊不定的；(态度等)矛盾的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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specify
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| vt.指定，详细说明 | |
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jeopardizing
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| 危及，损害( jeopardize的现在分词 ) | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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miming
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| v.指手画脚地表演，用哑剧的形式表演( mime的现在分词 ) | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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genealogy
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| n.家系，宗谱 | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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guild
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| n.行会，同业公会，协会 | |
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blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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enrolled
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| adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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abort
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| v.使流产，堕胎；中止；中止(工作、计划等) | |
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validation
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| n.确认 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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pegged
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| v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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sprinted
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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deluding
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的现在分词 ) | |
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62
choreographed
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| v.设计舞蹈动作( choreograph的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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64
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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66
justifying
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| 证明…有理( justify的现在分词 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
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