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“My whole world opened up,” Daphne said. “I sold his place and bought a great place downtown. I got a live-in to help me with the kids and after they went to bed, I hit the town.”
“Were you looking for men?” Ruth asked.
Daphne shook her head. “No! At that time, I was batting men away. I was rich! I was free! Sure, I went on the occasional date, but that was it. At that point I believed this would be life forever.” Daphne sounded almost giddy. Ruth noticed that this was one of the rare times she seemed happy talking about her past, this brief moment when she believed that she was finally satisfied.
Ruth sighed, feeling suddenly drained. If the story had ended there, if Daphne had gone straight and spent the rest of her life raising her three children, using Geoffrey’s money to give them the opportunities she’d never had, then maybe she could have been salvaged. Yes, she had killed four men (and counting) but two were violent assholes and the other was a terminally ill fuckboy. Okay, and there was Warren, but he was very old. All human life was precious of course, but most people would concede that some of it was ateensybit more precious than others. If the story had ended there, some people would have still been able to forgive Daphne.
“So, what changed?” Ruth asked.
Daphne shrugged, a vacant, heavy-lidded stare settling on her face.
“I got bored.”
The Fourth Murder
Chapter Nineteen
EPISODE SIX: 1968–1970
DAPHNE:I want you to know that I’m not a monster. I do have regrets about some of the people I had to kill. David Priestly, my second husband, was one of them. I met David in New York in 1968. I was going by the name Cecilia then. We were living downtown, in a new building and I had an incredible Sixties wardrobe to match. I met Andy Warhol at a party, and he begged me to be in one of his art films but I said no way. He gave me the creeps. I’m not surprised a woman shot him. No normal man should be that interested in soup.
RUTH:You met Andy Warhol? Wow, he’s so famous.
DAPHNE:If you lived in New York as long as I did, and spent the kind of money I spent, you met them all: Truman Capote, Mia Farrow, Frank Sinatra. My life story’s the history of the twentieth century.
RUTH:A nice little chunk of the twenty-first century as well.
DAPHNE:Ah well, I don’t count the part I was in Florida for. Florida’s where history goes to die. Anyways, there I was in 1968, single, beautiful, and being invited to a different party every night.
[EDIT: DO NOT INCLUDE IN PODCAST]
RUTH:Sounds expensive though, especially for someone living off an inheritance. I would imagine, anyways. . .
DAPHNE:Yeah, you lost your grandmother right? She didn’t leave you any cash?
RUTH:No, she didn’t have much. Mostly old newspapers and a lot of stuff from her ex-husband. She was a bit obsessed with him because he left her.
DAPHNE:And you’re not in your father’s will. So it sounds like you’ll never get a big inheritance.
RUTH:Definitely not. There was a time when I thought. . . but no.
DAPHNE:Hmm. . .
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RUTH:Anyways, you sound like you were really burning through that inheritance. What were you planning to do when it ran out?
DAPHNE:Find another man before it was too late. It’s an unusual form of financial planning, but it works.
RUTH:So. . . David?
DAPHNE:David was in New York for work and from Day One I could tell that he was decent. Let’s just say he was that one rich man who was actually going to make it into heaven. We had a swell time, and he extended his visit because he’d fallen hard for me. I would catch him looking at me with a kind of wonder on his face as if he couldn’t believe his good luck.
RUTH:Did he know you had three children?
DAPHNE:Yep. Sometimes we brought them on dates. It’s hard, isn’t it? Finding a man who will accept a woman with a body count?
RUTH:Oh. . . I see, you mean the kids! Yeah, it is. My mom was pretty much single until I grew up.