mac.thepearlharbormurders-第3章

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n　hers…theirs；　Jane　to　his　Tarzan。
　But　their　interests　had　diverged；　drastically；　over　the　past　twenty　years。　Emma　seemed　to　resent　his　youthful　ways；　shared　not　at　all　his　interest　in　sports　and　the　great　out…of…doors…horseback　riding；　golf；　tennis；　certainly　not　flying。　She　would　chastise　him　for　his　preference　for　the　pany　of　younger　people；　calling　him　〃immature；〃　accusing　him　of　trying　to　〃prove　his　masculinity。〃
　The　latter；　in　a　marriage　that　had　been　sexless　for　some　time；　was　a　particularly　cutting　blow。　But…despite　the　quarrels；　and　the　recriminations…he　had　held　on；　out　of　concern　for　how　his　children　might　react　to　separation　or　divorce。　With　his　business　flourishing；　he　spent　less　and　less　time　at　home；　doing　his　writing　at　the　office；　supervising　the　magazine　serialization　of　his　work；　keeping　an　eye　on　the　ticensing　of　Tarzan　and　other　characters　of　his　to　the　movies；　radio；　and　ics。
　And　all　of　this　was　rewarding…he　thought　of　himself　as　a　businessman　first；　a　writer　second；　an　〃author〃　not　at　all。　He　had　been　the　first　writer　he　knew　of　to　incorporate…ERB；　Inc。…and　even　started　a　publishing　pany；　printing　his　own　books；　to　better　maintain　control　of　the　product；　and　to　maximize　profits。
　And　he　had　made　it　a　family　business；　hiring　Hully　as　his　vice　president；　using　his　older　son；　Jack；　a　successful　mercial　artist；　as　the　illustrator　of　his　book　jackets　and　the　new　〃John　Carter　of　Mars〃　ic　strip；　based　on　his　science…fiction　novels；　set　to　debut　this　Sunday。　He'd　even　hired　his　daughter's　no…good　husband　Jim　Pierce　to　play　Tarzan　on　the　radio。
　No　one　could　say　Ed　Burroughs　was　not　a　family　man；　even　if　he　did　spend　most　of　his　time　away　from　home；　at　the　office。　But　few　on　this　earth　knew…besides　his　children；　if　they　would　admit　it…how　he　had　dreaded　to　e　home；　at　the　end　of　a　long　day。　And　even　the　kids　could　only　guess　that　behind　the　happy　moments　of　the　marriage…and　there　had　been　some；　even　in　the　later　years…hovered　a　specter　of　fear　of　what　he　knew　would　inevitably　e　the　next　day　or　the　next。。。。
　He　blamed　himself。　He'd　always　been　proud　of　the　way　he　could　hold　his　liquor；　and　had　urged　Emma…　who　had　no　tolerance　for　alcohol　at　all；　and　whose　personality　changed　radically　under　the　influence…to　moderate　her　drinking。　They　had　been　party　goers　for　years；　but　as　Emma's　problem　worsened；　he　had　cut　back　on　the　invitations　they　accepted；　and　didn't　stay　long　at　the　parties　they　did　attend。
　And　so　Emma　had　begun　to　drink　at　home。　Alone…　in　secret；　that　open　secret　the　families　of　all　alcoholics　know　too　well。
　He　never　knew　what　condition　he　would　find　her　in…she　might　be　in　a　vicious　state　or　a　atose　one。　Whatever　the　case；　countless　hours　of　hideous　suffering　for　both　of　them　followed。　Once　he　flew　into　a　rage　and　dumped　all　of　her　liquor　into　the　swimming　pool…　of　course；　since　it　had　no　filtration　system；　the　pool　had　probably　only　benefited　from　the　alcohol's　sterilizing　effect。
　He　had　never　wished　to　make　Emma　unhappy。　But　he　could　not　overlook　how　horribly　unhappy　she　had　made　him；　she　treated　her　pet　dog　more　kindly。　Ten　years　before　he　left　her；　Emma　had　said　to　him　mat　she　no　longer　liked　him…for　some　reason；　those　simple　words　had　inflicted　a　wound　that　had　never　heated。　Many　people…friends　and　strangers　alike；　their　appetites　for　the　misfortunes　of　others　fed　by　lice　tike　Walter　Winchell　and　other　low…life　gossipmongers…　assumed　his　relationship　with　Florence　preceded；　even　initiated；　the　breakup　with　Emma。
　It　was　true　he'd　known　Florence　for　some　years；　had　admired　her　at　a　distance　（she　was　the　wife　of　a　Mend；　the　producer　of　his　ill…fated　Tarzan　movie；　which　he'd　backed　as　an　antidote　to　the　unfaithful　MGM　versions　of　his　work）。　He'd　felt　unrequited　schoolboy　pangs　of　love　for　her；　before　she　even　knew　he　existed。
　With　her　fair；　curly　hair；　and　her　apple…cheeked　wholesome　beauty；　Florence　had　been　a　popular　child　actress　in　the　silent…movie　days；　a　second　Mary　Pick…ford　with　a　series　of　two…reelers　for　Mack　Sennett　leading　to　starring　roles　in　features。　When　talkies　came　in；　she　had　begun　to　raise　a　family　with　her　producer　husband；　Ashton　Dearholt；　that　good　friend　of　Burroughs。　But　Burroughs　and　Florence　had　been　thrown　together　when　his　own　separation　was　quickly　followed　by　Florence's　husband　throwing　her　over…for　an　actress　he　had　met　on　the　Guatemala　film　shoot　of　the　ill…starred　Tarzan　picture！　Hell；　even　Burroughs　wouldn't　have　dared　put　together　a　plot　so　contrived…　but；　like　two　lost　souls；　he　and　Florence　had　drifted　together。
　That　Florence　and　Burroughs's　daughter　Joan　had　been　good　friends　made　the　awkward　situation　ever　more　strained。　Hully　and　Jack；　who　had　witnessed　their　mother's　alcoholic　madness；　understood　far　better；　and　tried　to　make　peace；　but　Joan　avoided　him；　for　years；　and　never　spoke　to　Florence　again。
　Perhaps　it　was　inevitable　that　he　and　Florence　would　wind　up　in　Hawaii…they　had　honeymooned　there；　delightfully；　in　1935。　But　his　return　to　Oahu　in　1940　had　been　in　part　financially　motivated。　The　pulp　magazines…his　major　serialization　market…had　lowered　their　pay　rates；　due　to　the　squeeze　of　the　Depression；　and　the　European　war　cut　off　most　of　his　foreign　markets。　In　Hawaii；　he　could　drop　his　expenses　to　a　third　of　what　they'd　been　in　California。
　His　financial　state；　too；　he　knew　was　his　own　damn　fault…despite　his　businesslike　attitudes　toward　writing；　he　was　lousy　at　managing　money；　and　he　knew　it…　anyway；　he　knew　it　now。　From　buying　the　Tarzana　Ranch　back　in　1919…since　sold　off　for　subdivided　lots；　his　precious　unspoiled　land　turned　into　another　goddamn　suburb…to　the　acquisition　of　cars；　horses；　and　planes；　Burroughs　was　a　classic　case　of　a　man　living　beyond　his　means。
　Considering　his　earnings　over　the　last　thirty　years；　the　creator　of　Tarzan　should　have　been　poised　for　wealthy　retirement。　Instead；　he　was　an　aging　small　businessman　supporting　three　grown　children；　an　ex…wife；　a　new　wife　and　her　two　children；　as　well　as　an　executive　secretary　and　stenographer　back　in　California；　not　to　mention　a　Japanese　maid　in　Hawaii。
　Florence　had　always　said　that　his　fame　was　not　what　attracted　her　to　him；　she　spoke　of　his　self…deprecatory　sense　of　humor；　and　the　〃fun　and　games〃　of　his　life；　the　outdoor　sports；　parties；　dinner　and　theater。　And　in　the　first　five　years　of　their　marriage；　every　evening　seemed　to　begin…and；　often；　end…with　cocktails　at　their　own　Rodeo　Drive　home　or　someone　else's。　On　the　rare　night　the　couple　wasn't　making　the　restaurant/　club/theater　circuit；　they　were　up　till　all　hours　playing　backgammon；　bridge；　or　mah…jongg　with　movie…star　friends。
　He'd　always　been　an　early　riser；　but　the　dazzle　of　a　young　wife　and　the　bright　lights　of　Southern　California　had　seduced　him　into　turning　his　schedule　upside　down…and　his　writing；　the　quantity　and　the　quality；　suffered　accordingly。
　Perhaps　he　had　tried　too　hard　to　keep　up　with　his　young　wife；　burning　the　candle　at　both　ends；　and　she　eventually　accused　him　of　trying　so　hard　to　act　youthfully　that　he　had　instead　behaved　childishly。　In　Hawaii；　he　had　planned　to　crawl　in　and　curl　up　in　a　hole　to　write；　and　pull　the　hole　in　after　him…but　Honolulu　was　an　even　bigger　party　town　than　Beverly　Hills；　and　when　he　wasn't　playing　poker　into　the　wee　hours　with　his　Army　and　Navy　friends；　he　and　his　wife　were　at　a　？？？　or　a　cocktail　party　or　off　yachting。
　Florence　plained　that　she　had　turned　into　his　chauffeur；　since　he　was　inevitably　too　tipsy　to　drive　home　after　a　soiree；　and　felt　she　had　fallen　into　the　role　of　the　serious；　〃older〃　partner；　while　he　was　the　child。　Since　his　Hawaiian　writing　was　going　well…by　the　end　of　1940；　he'd　written　not　only　a　new　Tarzan　novel　but　entries　in　his　other　two　mainstay　series；　Mars　and　Pellucidar；　with　a　Venus　tale　in　the　works…Burroughs　didn't　think　the　nights　of　revelry　were　hurting　anything。　Still；　Florence　began　plaining；　not　only　about　his　〃immaturity；〃　but　the　Niumalu　（one　of　the　nicest　hotels　on　Oahu）　which　she　found　lacking；　condemning　it　as　〃cramped；　buggy　and　damp。〃　She　was　dismayed　when　he　told　her　they　would　be　living　on　250　a　month；　the　salary　he　was　drawing　from　ERB；　Inc。
　Five　years　ago；　she　had　viewed　him　as　a　dapper；　prosperous；　respected　gentleman；　a　father　figure；　now；　he　feared；　she　saw　him　as　just　another　bald；　overweight　geezer。
　Of　course　Florence's　major　plaint　had　been　bis　drinking；　which　led　to　full…blown　arguments；　like　the　time　she　found　he　was　keeping　a　carton　of　liquor　under　the　bed；　for　easy　access。　She　claimed　he　was　〃drank〃　every　night；　and…worst　of　all…she　said　her　children　were　afraid　of　him；　that　he　was　〃taking　it　out〃　on　them。　This　he　greatly　resented。　He　loved　her　two　kids　as　if　they　were　his　own；　nine…year…old　Caryl　especially；　the　little　charmer。　It　was　true　he　was　harder　on　eleven…year…old　Lee；　trying　to　urge　the　boy　to　be　more　athletic。　Florence　claimed　Lee　was　afraid　of　him…though　he'd　never　laid　a　hand　on　the　child…and　that　he　was　showing　his　irritation　to　both　kids；　〃acting　up；〃　she　called　it。
　When　she　packed　up；　gathering　the　two　children；　and　announced　she　was　leaving…when　was　it。。。　eight　months　ago？…he　could　scarcely　believe　it。　He　had　thought　Florence's　threats　were　empty；　but…as　they'd　had　a　premarital　understanding　that　should　things　not　work　out；　either　could　〃call　it　off'　without　objection　from　the　other…he　merely　escorted　mem；　numbly；　to　the　Lurline　at　the　dock；　a　shell…shocked　zombie　among　the　Boat　Day　festivities。
　Nothing　had　ever　hit　him　so　hard。　He　found　it　bitterly；　ironically　amusing　that　Florence　had　left　him　because　he　was　an　obese　drunk。。。。　How　Emma　would　have　relished　that。
　His　carousing　ways　ceased。　He　developed　a　routine　of　going　to　a　movie　and　then　to　bed　early；　declining　all　invitations　for　poker　and　parties。　He　went　for　days　without　speaking　to　anyone；　taking　his　meals　in　his　bungalow；　burrowed　behind　drawn　blackout　curtains。　Despite　this　deep　despondency；　he　did　manage　to　keep　writing；　a　historical　yarn　about　the　Romans；　and　he　finished　his　Venus　tale。
　His　only　break　from　this　self…imposed　incarceration　was　a　painful　stay　at　Queen's　Hospital；　due　to　the　flaring　up　of　an　old　bladder　condition。　For　three　weeks　he　was　shot　full　of　derivatives　of　the　poppy　flower；　fed　an　anesthetic　that　burned　from　his　lips　down　his　throat　into　his　lungs；　got　filled　full　of　sulfathiazole　until　he　thought　it　would　run　out　of　his　ears；　and　had　a　wire　inserted　in　his　favorite　organ。
　Upon　his　release；　he　began　to　imagine　he　was　having　small　strokes　and　heart　attacks；　but　didn't　much　care。
　He　felt　he　was　going　to　die。　He　wondered　if　maybe　helping　that　process　along　wasn't　worth　considering。
　A　note　acpanying　a　revision　of　his　will…in　which　he　thanked　his　loyal　secretary　Ralph　Rothmund　for　his　longtime　friendship；　telling　him　what　a　pleasure　it　had　been　to　work　with　him…apparently　got　his　three　children　worrying　about　his　mental　state；　alone　on　this　Pacific　island；　and　Hully　had　e　to　his　rescue。　God　bless　that　kid；　claiming　this　was　a　〃vacation。〃　They　had　moved　into　new　digs　near　the　beach　at　the　Niumalu；　a　bedroom　with　bath　and　sitting　room　（Hully　bunking　it　on　a　hideaway　couch）。　Burroughs　picked　up　the　pace　of　his　writing；　even　as　he　and　his　son　enjoyed　late；　leisurely　breakfasts；　long　lunches；　aft