a favor, that Vasili struck pay dirt. She looked up Serena's number and address among the file cards, and gave it to him without a second thought, having no idea of what she had just done.
The next day he flew to New York to find her, and when he reached her apartment, he found her about to go out. “Serena …”She opened the door and heard her name and almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him. She could tell by his eyes that he was still using and obviously half out of his mind and she backed slowly into the apartment. The children were in the living room with the baby-sitter and she wanted to slam the door but he shoved his way past her, muttering darkly that he had to see his baby and that she couldn't do this to him, and she slammed down her portfolio and watched him look down at Charlie, as she felt the old fear and anger well up inside her. All the ugliness of the past year seemed to dance before her eyes as he turned to face her, his eyes cloudy and wild.
“How the hell did you find me?” Her voice was sharp and her eyes were blazing. She had come three thousand miles to escape him and now here he was again.
“I had to.” He stared at her blankly. “You're my wife.” The baby-sitter sat there staring at him, looking frightened, and Vanessa instinctively reached over and took the baby protectively into her arms. She was watching her mother grow angrier by the moment and Vasili looked as though he were totally crazed. “Why didn't you come back?”
“I'm not ever coming back. And I don't want to discuss this here.” She glanced worriedly at the children. Vanessa had seen enough of this in the past, and she didn't want her seeing more now.
“Then, let's go in there.” He pointed to the bedroom, and Serena followed him into it with long angry strides. “I want you to come home!” He turned to face her, and she shook her head from side to side.
“No. Do you understand? No! I am never coming back to you, Vasili. Now get out of my house and get out of my life.”
“I won't!” He was shrieking. “You took my baby, and you're my wife, you have to come home to me if I tell you.”
“I don't have to do a damn thing. You're a bloody junkie and you almost destroyed me and my children—”
“But I didn't, I didn't …” he interrupted her. “I love you … I love you … I love you.…” And as he said the words he advanced on her, his maddened black eyes flashing into hers, his hands instinctively closing on her throat and squeezing harder and harder and harder, and she suddenly began to choke and then turned purple as he shouted, “I love you! … I love you! … I love you!” In the room beyond, Vanessa heard him, but after a few minutes she didn't hear her mother, and suddenly terrified, sensing that something was amiss, she burst through the door, with the baby still in her arms. What she saw in the bedroom was Vasili, kneeling, sobbing, on the floor, his hands still around Serena's neck, as she lay with her head twisted at an odd angle, her eyes open, her portfolio spilled out on the floor.
“What have you done to my mother?” She shrieked at him, clutching Charlie.
“I've killed her,” he said softly. “Because I love her.” And then sobbing hysterically, he collapsed on the floor beside Serena.
46
The publicity for the next two weeks was of international proportions. The death of Serena Fullerton Arbus caused no small stir. Her background, her parents' death, her marriage to Brad and then to Vasili, were all exposed again and again in the press. His history of heroin use became public knowledge, his marriages were rehashed, his stays in mental hospitals to dry up, were discussed at length. And the hint of a custody battle over the children was superficially mentioned. It was a scandal second to no other, but the main issue at hand was the children's fate. Just as Brad, when he died five years earlier, Serena had left no will. And whereas her remaining funds could be evenly divided between her daughters, the biggest question was where and with whom they would live. Would both stay together or would it become a war of Fullerton v.