Read Online Clifford Irving's Legal Novels - 03 - THE SPRING -- a Legal Thriller by Clifford Irving - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Clifford Irving
Tags: Thrillers, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Law, Thrillers & Suspense, Professional & Technical, Criminal Law
Ads: Link
aloud. She read Wordsworth and Mallarmé to him. She had taught herself French with videos from the Pitkin County Library. He loved the sound of her voice; its clarity was like that of a lightly struck gong. And at least three or four times a week she played the lovely dark violin kept in the battered leather case. She caressed its gleaming wood and its taut strings. Her playing captivated Dennis. Whatever cares the world still inflicted on him vanished. He was borne away to a womblike place where he seemed to drift in warm, slow-moving water.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, “when I shut my eyes, I could go to sleep while you play.”
“Do,” Sophie said, her eyes bright with pleasure. “I wouldn’t mind. Music can take you to another world. And it can reach you while you sleep.”
Dennis had sometimes watched television at night when he lived alone, and before, when he had been married to Alma, but he realized one day that here in the mountains he rarely turned on the TV except for a movie on PBS or a sporting event that he couldn’t resist. His real world was sunny and celebratory—entertainment enough.
Before meeting Sophie he had considered himself a sexually sophisticated man. He had been a bachelor for many years before his marriage to Alma, had made love to many women. One of his longterm partners in New York had been a French art magazine editor, another a dark-skinned psychiatrist from Brazil. He had always been willing to experiment, and on several occasions had made love with two women together. But he was never arrogant about his sexuality. Like most men, he believed he was a good lover. Women had told him so—why doubt it? Even more, he had been fortunate in having experiences with women who were skilled in the arts of love. It was a skill, he’d begun to see. It was not always enough to follow your instincts. You could learn. You could experiment. You could go beyond the ordinary.
And now there was Sophie. Whatever he thought he knew before about womanliness and sex, with Sophie he was reeducated. There seemed to be nothing that she wouldn’t do or didn’t know how to do. The bedroom was her dominion. By candlelight, they romped. In the dark, she whispered in his ear and conjured images of all his fantasies. And yet despite her skills, everything was achieved with the delight of carnal freshness. He wondered where such knowledge came from.
After making love, if it was not too cold they would walk out on the deck together. “To let the starlight wash our eyes,” Sophie said. At 9,000 feet the darkness was absolute. The stars were diamond hard in their brilliance and seemed to give off a faint hum. From the mountain fastness came the howl of coyotes, which occasionally woke the children. On starry nights a nesting owl hooted, and on warmer nights as spring moved toward summer they heard deer or elk moving through the brush.
“Are there grizzly bears around here?” Brian asked.
“Black bear,” Sophie said. “In the winter, they hibernate. Now that it’s spring you can see tracks and fresh droppings. And in summer you might spot one or two young ones on the other side of the creek. They won’t come near the house unless they’re really hungry.”
One night in April Dennis was awakened by a series of thuds behind the kitchen. The heavy-duty green plastic garbage cans stood unprotected in the snow next to Sophie’s Blazer and his Cherokee. A quarter moon hung clear and brilliant above the mountains. Dennis peered out from the upstairs window and saw a large animal nuzzling at one of the garbage cans. A neighbor kept cows and often forgot to close the barn.
He looked at his watch: not yet midnight. The remains of a log fire glowed in the living room fireplace, and the room was still warm. He put on his toweled bathrobe and padded downstairs. Shadows danced on the walls as he took a flashlight off the kitchen counter. Hearing a soft footfall above him, he turned. Brian stood on the
“Sometimes,” he admitted, “when I shut my eyes, I could go to sleep while you play.”
“Do,” Sophie said, her eyes bright with pleasure. “I wouldn’t mind. Music can take you to another world. And it can reach you while you sleep.”
Dennis had sometimes watched television at night when he lived alone, and before, when he had been married to Alma, but he realized one day that here in the mountains he rarely turned on the TV except for a movie on PBS or a sporting event that he couldn’t resist. His real world was sunny and celebratory—entertainment enough.
Before meeting Sophie he had considered himself a sexually sophisticated man. He had been a bachelor for many years before his marriage to Alma, had made love to many women. One of his longterm partners in New York had been a French art magazine editor, another a dark-skinned psychiatrist from Brazil. He had always been willing to experiment, and on several occasions had made love with two women together. But he was never arrogant about his sexuality. Like most men, he believed he was a good lover. Women had told him so—why doubt it? Even more, he had been fortunate in having experiences with women who were skilled in the arts of love. It was a skill, he’d begun to see. It was not always enough to follow your instincts. You could learn. You could experiment. You could go beyond the ordinary.
And now there was Sophie. Whatever he thought he knew before about womanliness and sex, with Sophie he was reeducated. There seemed to be nothing that she wouldn’t do or didn’t know how to do. The bedroom was her dominion. By candlelight, they romped. In the dark, she whispered in his ear and conjured images of all his fantasies. And yet despite her skills, everything was achieved with the delight of carnal freshness. He wondered where such knowledge came from.
After making love, if it was not too cold they would walk out on the deck together. “To let the starlight wash our eyes,” Sophie said. At 9,000 feet the darkness was absolute. The stars were diamond hard in their brilliance and seemed to give off a faint hum. From the mountain fastness came the howl of coyotes, which occasionally woke the children. On starry nights a nesting owl hooted, and on warmer nights as spring moved toward summer they heard deer or elk moving through the brush.
“Are there grizzly bears around here?” Brian asked.
“Black bear,” Sophie said. “In the winter, they hibernate. Now that it’s spring you can see tracks and fresh droppings. And in summer you might spot one or two young ones on the other side of the creek. They won’t come near the house unless they’re really hungry.”
One night in April Dennis was awakened by a series of thuds behind the kitchen. The heavy-duty green plastic garbage cans stood unprotected in the snow next to Sophie’s Blazer and his Cherokee. A quarter moon hung clear and brilliant above the mountains. Dennis peered out from the upstairs window and saw a large animal nuzzling at one of the garbage cans. A neighbor kept cows and often forgot to close the barn.
He looked at his watch: not yet midnight. The remains of a log fire glowed in the living room fireplace, and the room was still warm. He put on his toweled bathrobe and padded downstairs. Shadows danced on the walls as he took a flashlight off the kitchen counter. Hearing a soft footfall above him, he turned. Brian stood on the
Similar Books
