As a novelist I am fascinated by the life between the facts. Part of my job as a writer is to imagine conversations that could have taken place between the people who are making history—conversations that add essence to the facts of a story even if they never happened.
Like so many others, I have been riveted by the Madoff scandal on a number of levels, not the least of which is the role of Ruth Madoff, the supposedly unknowing spouse. She appeared to me an ever-dutiful, if deluded, wife now loyally visiting her evil husband of fifty years in jail on a regular basis, presumably to offer him consolation and support. She seemed to be taking her marriage vows very seriously indeed. For better and now for much worse, she was standing by her man.
I tried to imagine the conversations she was having with her Bernie.
“I know you’ve done wrong, but I forgive you, my darling,” she would say to him. “I’ve always loved you, Bernie. I know you did this for me and the children. I know you tried to shield me. The world doesn’t understand you. Until tomorrow then, know that there is one person in the world who adores and worships you still. I love you, I love you, I love you. Kisses kisses kisses forever, Bernie mine.”
You can’t buy or beat that kind of loyalty. After all, what else could they be saying to each other day after day in a confined space? Well, now I think I know the answer:
RUTH: You swindling, money-grubbing, two-timing son of a bitch! Are you telling me you had an affair for twenty f---ing years! How could you have done this to me?!
BERNIE: Ruth, I—
RUTH: Shut up! And Sheryl Weinstein? She even looks like me! She’s blonde, thin, attractive. Am I prettier than she is? Am I?
BERNIE: Ruth, I—
RUTH: Shut up! Tell me something: Did you do this just to get her money or were you really attracted to her? Huh? Did it start out innocent and then you just couldn’t control yourself. Or did you plan to have an affair with her for twenty f---ing years while I took care of the houses and the yachts and the kids? Tell me, which was it? Accident or plan?
BERNIE: Ruth, I—
RUTH: Shut up! I wanna know how often you two met. I mean, when did you have time? I kept my eyes on you twenty-four seven, and then you were busy swindling all those people. I ask you, when did you have the time to have an affair?
BERNIE: Ruth, I—
RUTH: Shut up! And let me ask you this: Were there others? What was that bullshit about your secretary saying you were looking at massage parlor ads? Did you sneak off for quickies with bimbos while you were playing Mr. Big Shot in the Lipstick Building? The Lipstick Building! What a great name! You gave it real meaning, didn’t you, you bastard!
BERNIE: Ruthie, I—
RUTH: Shut up! I’m humiliated, I’m broke, I’m villified. I can’t even get my hair done without asking permission from the government. And do you want to know the worst of it? I kept myself in tip-top shape for you, you shit. I always looked good. And I never so much as peeped at another man! Oh, I could have, believe me. I was cute! But did I? No! I was faithful to you to a fault, like your investors!
BERNIE: Ruthie, could we talk about something else?
RUTH: Like what?
BERNIE: I don’t know. How about the fraud I perpetrated on thousands of people?
RUTH: Shut up! What about the fraud you perpetrated on me? I had absolutely no idea you were doing this to me! And now this woman has written a book! Let me ask you something: When you told me you loved me, was that always a lie? Was it? Was it? Did you ever love me? Or did you just use me like you’ve used everyone else in your life?
BERNIE: Ruthie, I—
RUTH: Shut up! Well, Bernie Big Shot Swindler Madoff, I’m going to tell you something. I’m glad you got into a good jail, one nearby, because now I have nothing else to do but visit you every chance I get and tell you what a lousy rat bastard piece of crap you are for the next 150 years! You are literally a captive audience, Bernie. My captive audience. It’s my one consolation in this world—knowing that I’ll be seeing you and berating you forever!
BERNIE: Guard!
Jane Stanton Hitchcock is a playwright and a novelist. Her new novel about Washington society, Mortal Friends was published in July.