The Fury(57)

“They’ll turn on each other in an instant,” I said. “Don’t think they won’t. If you want to end their affair, just put that kind of pressure on it for a few hours.”

The two lovers would tear each other apart, each suspecting the other. And the moment each accused the other of murder, Lana could reveal herself. She would emerge from the shadows, having returned from death. She’d stand before them, gloriously alive—giving them the fright of their life. And leaving them in no doubt how they truly felt about each other—how shallow and tawdry, how easily polluted their feelings really were.

“It will be the end of them, forever,” I said.

This is, no doubt, what appealed to Lana about my idea—the prospect of ending Jason and Kate’s affair. Perhaps Lana was hoping to win Jason back. But she also had another reason for agreeing—a secret reason—which, as you will see, brought her little joy.

The idea had a lovely poetic symmetry to it, I said. It provided the perfect revenge for Lana; and the superlative artistic challenge for me. Of course, Lana didn’t know quite how far I intended to take the performance.

I didn’t lie to her. All I did—you might say—was not burden her with a lot of unnecessary exposition.

Instead, I concentrated on the practicalities of staging our drama.

As we talked, we discovered the story together.

Drowning? I said.

No, shooting, said Lana, with a smile—that would be much better; we could use the guns in the house—then easily incriminate Jason in Kate’s eyes.

Yes, I said, that’s it. Good idea.

What about the others? Should we involve them or not?

I knew we had to, to a certain extent. Lana and I couldn’t pull this off on our own. For the illusion to work, Jason and Kate must never be allowed to get too close to Lana’s body. I couldn’t manage that by myself. I needed help.

And Leo—hysterical, screaming—demanding they keep away from Lana … would do the trick nicely.

I worried about how little acting experience Leo had—what if he wasn’t up to the challenge? What if he corpsed—no pun intended—and gave the game away?

Lana promised she’d rehearse him diligently until he was perfect. It seemed a matter of parental pride for her that he be given the part. Ironic, considering how much she disapproved of his becoming an actor.

I agreed to her demands, even though I had my doubts about Leo. As I did about keeping Agathi in the dark. But Lana overruled me on both counts.

What about Nikos? she said. Should we tell him or not?

Let’s keep him out of it, I said. Too many cooks, and all that.

Lana nodded. Okay. You’re probably right.

And so it was agreed.



* * *



Four days later, on the island, a few minutes before midnight, I went to meet Lana at the ruin. I was armed with a shotgun.

Lana was waiting for me, sitting on one of the broken columns. I smiled as I approached. She didn’t smile back.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” I said.

“Neither was I.”

“Well?”

Lana nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Okay.” I raised the gun and pointed it at the sky.

I fired three times.

I watched as Lana applied the fake blood and the stage makeup to herself. The bullet wounds were latex, gory and effective—at night, anyway. I wasn’t sure how well they’d play in daylight.

The special effects were the model’s own, procured for her by a makeup artist she had worked with on several movies. She said she needed them for a private performance—an apt description of our little production, I thought.

Lana lay on the ground, in the pool of fake blood. Then I pulled Kate’s red shawl out of my back pocket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“What’s that for?” Lana asked.

“Just a final touch. Now try not to move. Lie completely still. Let your limbs go limp.”

“I know how to play dead, Elliot. I’ve done it before.”

Hearing the others approach, I went and hid behind the column. I stuffed the shotgun into a rosemary bush.

Then I emerged, a couple of minutes later—acting as if I had just arrived; breathless and confused.

From then on, I followed my dramatic instinct. Seeing Lana lying there, in a pool of blood, with Leo, hysterical at her side, I found it easy to get caught up in the drama. It felt surprisingly real, in fact.

I see now that’s exactly where I took a wrong turn in my thinking. I didn’t anticipate how real it would feel. I got so caught up with the twists and turns of the plot, I didn’t think of how it would affect everyone emotionally—and that, therefore, people might react in highly unpredictable ways.

You might say I forgot my most fundamental rule: character is plot.

And I paid the price for it.





2





Lana hurried through the olive grove, in search of Agathi.

She needed to find her. Lana had to calm her down before she ruined everything.

It had been a mistake not to tell Agathi, to keep the plan a secret from her. But Lana felt she had no choice. Agathi would certainly have refused to take part, and she would have done her best to talk Lana out of it. Now Lana rather wished she had.