“Dearest Johnny,” Laura wrote, “I lay here in the quiet predawn hours trying to fathom your cruelty. Do you worship Satan himself? You have flung me in a short time from the highest degree of happiness to the depths of sorrow. I am so lonely. When I was at Pratt I copied down a quote from a book by Kierkegaard that was required reading in philosophy—remember when he was all the craze? ‘There are occasions when it gives one a sense of infinite sadness to see a human being standing all alone in the world. Thus the other day I saw a poor girl walk all alone to church to be confirmed.’ Dearest Johnny, can your evil soul comprehend this? I am that girl. Even my children are not truly mine because Bob forced me to have them. I love them but they are not mine. What happened is Bob returned from the Jai-Alai Fronton and I told him about our wonderful evening. He always makes me tell him about my little peccadilloes because it stimulates him. This time he screamed with laughter and said the only person who would fuck a crippled lady is an insurance investigator. I said no. I said you were a lovely poetic man. Bob kept saying I’ll have the fucker killed and I kept saying you weren’t an insurance investigator. You should know I suppose that Bob Fardel is really Roberto Fardello. Why did I marry a gangster? My family forced me into it to save their declining fortunes. Gangsters like to marry socialites, just like in The Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald. He said ‘what was your name’ and I refused until he finally held a burning cigarette near my eye. And I knew anyway you were a gentleman not an insurance investigator. So he called a connection in Detroit who has access to police records. And there you were listed as working for Dr. Rabun who owns the spa where I was injured. I wept while Bob laughed. Gloria Rabun is a neighbor of ours and a friend. It was she who suggested we sue her husband after the accident, saying he was a nasty tightwad who wouldn’t let her spend her own money. Bob only wanted to have his men torch the spa. So, my dearest Johnny, I spent the night begging for your life. He made me do so many awful things but he often does that. So your life is spared, my evil darling. Did you only enter me to see if I could move? Don’t answer that. I knew together we became one with the moon, if only for a moment. Today I am traveling by ambulance Lear to the Tulane Medical Center in New Orleans for my operation. If I am not cured I will kill myself. Bob agrees with this decision. So farewell, my dearest Johnny. Bob is reading this as I write. He congratulates you on your abilities but says that you must know that if you ever seek my company again he will have his henchmen chop you and your family in pieces with machetes. Despite this threat, my love, I know we will see each other again if only in heaven or hell. Ave atque vale, love. I still have part of you inside me. Perhaps it will grow and your baby will die with me, or live. Good-bye, Laura.”