honeymoon, they began recording a new album in a Paris studio. They would never really have a proper band againâthey would always be just Grealy and Masters, with whatever session players they needed for the few instruments they couldn't play between them. It had been too painful losing the Kydds. They didn't ever want to break up another band.
For five years they shuttled back and forth between Europe and New York, making music and doing benefit concerts, stopping in England occasionally but never for long. At last, though, the craziness of their time with the Kydds seemed to catch up with them and they needed calm. It wouldn't have been the obvious choice for most people, but for them, calmness and peace of mind were in New York City. They applied for permanent U.S. residence, bought a huge apartment in a Gothic horror of a building on the Upper West Side, and moved in for good.
ix
The story had come full circle. Peyton sat curled in Dr. Jonathan Pumphrey's big leather chair, his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyelashes appeared wet, but he had not used any of the Kleenex.
âAnd how long ago was thatâthat you moved to New York?â Jonathan asked.
âTen years. You know what we've been doing since then, I suppose. We kept recording for a while, but eventually we felt we'd done all we could in the public eye. We could hear our influence in new music, and that was enough. So we retired."
âBut you never stopped playing music."
âOh, God, no. That was as much a part of our lives as making loveâwell, for us, it was a kind of making love. Seth had gotten really good on the piano and I was doing some classical guitar stuff. We'd even talked about recording again. Just for funânothing that was going to change the world."
âYou and Seth already changed it,â Jonathan reminded.
âYes, he disliked hearing it, but I think we did. Let me tell you something, though, Dr. Pumphrey: I'd trade it all to have him back again."
Jonathan could think of no suitable reply to this.
âI'll leave you soon. I just have one more question for you. I feel soft, asking such a thing, but I honestly don't know any more. Do you think he was ever really happy?"
âYes. These past years with you, here in New York, I think he was."
âThen I want one thing from you."
âOf course; anything I can doâ"
âThis isn't a normal request, Doctor. I told you I didn't know why I'd come here. I was lying. I wanted to meet you, get an idea who you were, and see what you thought about Seth. Then, if it seemed all right, I planned to ask you for one thing. Well, I'm asking. I want you to get me close to Ray Brinker."
Jonathan opened his mouth, then shut it again. He had no idea what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this.
âI'm Seth's official heir and the executor of his estate. As such, I'm entitled to mount a case against Brinker, aid the prosecution, even sue him for wrongful death if it comes to that. I've already discussed this with my lawyers. I can hire a psychiatrist to examine him for the purpose of determining his mental state. I want to hire you, and I want to go with you when you examine him."
âPeytonâIâno. This just can't work."
âWhy not?"
âWell, if it's some kind of vendetta you have in mind, there's no way you could even get a weapon past securityâ"
Peyton spread his hands, widened his eyes. âNo vendetta. I just want to talk to him. I want to know why."
âHe told the media why. Wasn't that ugly enough? Do you want to hear him say it again?"
âYes. I want to hear him say it to me."
âAnd the conflict of interestâme examining Blinker after being Seth's therapist for five yearsâ"
âCould you at least get in?"
âI don't know. Maybe."
âIf you can, will you take me?"
Jonathan looked at Peyton. Those big brown eyes widened further, protesting innocence, seeming to glitter with unshed tears.
For five years they shuttled back and forth between Europe and New York, making music and doing benefit concerts, stopping in England occasionally but never for long. At last, though, the craziness of their time with the Kydds seemed to catch up with them and they needed calm. It wouldn't have been the obvious choice for most people, but for them, calmness and peace of mind were in New York City. They applied for permanent U.S. residence, bought a huge apartment in a Gothic horror of a building on the Upper West Side, and moved in for good.
ix
The story had come full circle. Peyton sat curled in Dr. Jonathan Pumphrey's big leather chair, his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyelashes appeared wet, but he had not used any of the Kleenex.
âAnd how long ago was thatâthat you moved to New York?â Jonathan asked.
âTen years. You know what we've been doing since then, I suppose. We kept recording for a while, but eventually we felt we'd done all we could in the public eye. We could hear our influence in new music, and that was enough. So we retired."
âBut you never stopped playing music."
âOh, God, no. That was as much a part of our lives as making loveâwell, for us, it was a kind of making love. Seth had gotten really good on the piano and I was doing some classical guitar stuff. We'd even talked about recording again. Just for funânothing that was going to change the world."
âYou and Seth already changed it,â Jonathan reminded.
âYes, he disliked hearing it, but I think we did. Let me tell you something, though, Dr. Pumphrey: I'd trade it all to have him back again."
Jonathan could think of no suitable reply to this.
âI'll leave you soon. I just have one more question for you. I feel soft, asking such a thing, but I honestly don't know any more. Do you think he was ever really happy?"
âYes. These past years with you, here in New York, I think he was."
âThen I want one thing from you."
âOf course; anything I can doâ"
âThis isn't a normal request, Doctor. I told you I didn't know why I'd come here. I was lying. I wanted to meet you, get an idea who you were, and see what you thought about Seth. Then, if it seemed all right, I planned to ask you for one thing. Well, I'm asking. I want you to get me close to Ray Brinker."
Jonathan opened his mouth, then shut it again. He had no idea what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this.
âI'm Seth's official heir and the executor of his estate. As such, I'm entitled to mount a case against Brinker, aid the prosecution, even sue him for wrongful death if it comes to that. I've already discussed this with my lawyers. I can hire a psychiatrist to examine him for the purpose of determining his mental state. I want to hire you, and I want to go with you when you examine him."
âPeytonâIâno. This just can't work."
âWhy not?"
âWell, if it's some kind of vendetta you have in mind, there's no way you could even get a weapon past securityâ"
Peyton spread his hands, widened his eyes. âNo vendetta. I just want to talk to him. I want to know why."
âHe told the media why. Wasn't that ugly enough? Do you want to hear him say it again?"
âYes. I want to hear him say it to me."
âAnd the conflict of interestâme examining Blinker after being Seth's therapist for five yearsâ"
âCould you at least get in?"
âI don't know. Maybe."
âIf you can, will you take me?"
Jonathan looked at Peyton. Those big brown eyes widened further, protesting innocence, seeming to glitter with unshed tears.
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