The Greeks of Beaubien Street

by Jenkins, Suzanne

  Jill got there for breakfast later than usual; she was concerned about interfering with the family in residence, but Alex encouraged her to keep up her usual schedule. Gus was waiting in the alley for her as he had for years and years. He looked good; she was worried the unveiling of the previous night may have aged him, but on the contrary, he looked younger to her.

  “What’s going on, Papa? You’re looking good today.” She got out of the car and kissed him. He put his arm around her shoulder.

  “What’s going on? I gotta house full of people, that’s what’s going on. It reminds me a little of the old days, when my mother and father were still alive and you lived at home.” Jill stepped into the store and saw Greg busily scrubbing the floor with a little scrub brush, soaking wet, but completely ensconced in the wonders of housekeeping. “He’s doing the floor behind the counter next, unless my sister-in-law comes in and calls children’s aid,” Gus said. Jill giggled.

  “Albert called this morning,” she said, getting serious. “Evidently we are in some kind of trouble about the Parker case. I don’t care what it is as long as it doesn’t compromise the trial. I am so glad I’m not the prosecutor in this one!” She thought of the possibility that everything would be blamed on Marianne and that Jacob Parker might walk out of jail a free man. It made her sick. Alison, the prosecutor, was finding fault with the way some evidence was gathered: specifically, the video camera.

  “I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s talk about something else. How’re things going around here?” she whispered. Gus whispered back.

  “The boy, Andy, he’s not in such good shape. My brother shouldn’t have golfed the day after the funeral.” It was so unlike Gus to criticize anyone, Jill wondered if there wasn’t something hidden going on, some deeper pain that he was unable to express. She imagined the outing he got, the humiliation of having his daughter alone know the truth about Nick being Chris’s father would be awful, but the whole family? Even Alex was there as a witness. She decided to bring it up and get it out on the table.

  “Papa, about the other night with Paula and her big mouth. I wanted to talk more about it. I have more questions, but I don’t want to upset you.” Gus looked over at Greg, still scrubbing away, splashing water all over the place. It would be time to open for business soon and they would have to clean the water up off the floor.

  “You won’t upset me, Jill,” he replied. “What’s your question?” She had to turn her head to keep from smiling. She knew that his tone of voice meant just the opposite of his words: You’ll upset me, don’t ask questions. She forged ahead, deciding not to press her luck in case he did change his mind.

  “How’d you do it? I mean, how’d you forgive mom?” She knew he was expecting a question about her feelings. Gus got a set look on his mouth with a lowering of his eye lids, furtive. His only, beloved child was asking him to express feelings. He didn’t answer right away, remembering when he figured out that Chris and Nick were still seeing each other almost every day in Plymouth. Nick slipped up during a family dinner one Easter about he and Chris having lunch at some coffee shop in Northville and running into Peter. Peter had never let it out that he’d seen them together. How Nick managed to get there daily from his post in Brighton was surprising. He must have wanted to see her awfully bad. Gus decided to only state facts, not conjecture, not anything that wasn’t absolute unless he spoke of his own feelings. That was the only thing he could be certain of and it was all she was asking of him.

  “I’m not sure I ever did,” he answered honestly. “I just moved on. The whole forgiveness thing is highly overrated, don’t you agree?” He said it with a smile and a wink. This was a Gus Jill didn’t know well, a deep thinker, someone who had been hurt to the core but who managed to put it behind him without investigating whether or not he had been able to forgive his wife. For some reason, Jill felt close to tears. She’d always felt badly for her dad because he was a widower at such a young age. “Don’t cry honey. I’m fine. I’ve lived a charmed life. I have a beautiful, successful daughter, a business I love that was given to me free of charge, and family that brings me laughter. What more could a man ask for?” Jill had never thought of her dad with another woman, but suddenly, she could see he would benefit from it.

  “Why no woman since mom?” She was walking out on a limb, but since it was no holds barred, she thought she might as well take the risk.

  “Oh boy, now you’re on shaky ground,” he replied, laughing. “Don’t go there.” But Jill was intrigued.

  “Papa, I’m signing you up online for Matchmaker.com,” Jill insisted. But Gus was mortified.

  “I don’t think so! Isn’t it time you got to work?” he said, standing up to get her lunch. Jill was laughing out loud. Her father had never pushed her to leave.

  “Okay, I do need to go, but I think I am going to do it, to sign you up. You’ll see, it will be great. There are ten women for every guy. It’s probably even higher in your age bracket.” She looked at him deadpan and then burst out laughing. But Gus had had enough.

  “Get going now! Here’s your lunch. Don’t insult a man in his own house!” She was pouring herself another cup of coffee while he teased her. She thought maybe they had reached a new level in their relationship and it made her happy. He walked her out to the unmarked car like he always did and took her cup of coffee from her so she could get in with her lunch. She stretched her body up and stuck her head out of the window to kiss him.

  “Bye Papa, I love you.” she said. He handed her cup of coffee and said, “I love you, too, my manari mou.” Manari mou was a term of endearment Gus often used when he was saying good bye to his daughter; her job was dangerous and he worried about her. It meant little lamb.

  He felt the change in their relationship today as well. Even as she went off to work carrying her gun and being in danger, she was always his little girl. He thought something may have shifted slightly. Did it have anything to do with Jill knowing his frailty? That his wife chose to sleep with his brother and he’d kept silent about it? Looked the other way for ten years while she continued to see him? No love is worth that humiliation. Why did he do it? He didn’t know.

  His brother Pete had called and told him Nick left Paula. “Get this. The wife is the injured party, and he leaves her. I tell you, our brother’s got some balls,” Peter said. Gus thought about it for a while, determined not to waste too much dwelling on Nick. Pete was feeling embarrassed; why didn’t Gus kick Christina out? And then, out of the blue, Gus knew why he stayed with her. He didn’t want Nick to have Christina. She wouldn’t have left town. She’d have stayed right there to be with Nick. Nick would bring her around the store, and Gus would be powerless to stop it, his parents doting on their oldest son as much as they did their youngest. Eventually, he had felt like their marriage was back on track - she got pregnant the next year and had Jill. But in just a few months, the daily trips back to Plymouth started again, and of course, they were to see Nick, not just Chris. Gus felt awful. He was almost sixty years old and had wasted part of his life married to a woman who couldn’t be trusted. Was he the only one who knew? Did the whole family know that his brother and his wife were cavorting? The only secret they really had was the parentage of poor Christopher, the recipient of their up genetic material. He remembered his mother saying “There’s never been anything like that in our family before,” looking over her glasses at Gus. For a second he wished he’d outed them right then and there. But if he had, Jill wouldn’t have been born. He then had a hot flash and wondered, Is Jill really mine?

  Chapter 36

  Jill and Albert arrived on their floor at the same time. Albert had already been to the chief’s office, receiving the first of what would be several slaps on the wrist.

  “Alison doesn’t think the video camera will be allowed as evidence,” he said, referring to the prosecutor. Jill stopped in her tracks.

  “How can that be? You have Marianne Parker on tape saying it was okay to search Gretchen’s closet
. She invited you in.” Jill was incredulous.

  “Evidently, because she’s dead it is considered our word against the rights of the defendant. Since the gun belongs to Jacob, an upstanding former officer of the law, it would naturally have his prints all over it. Marianne could’ve been wearing gloves. Also, we have Mike Ahmed corroborating Gretchen’s virginity, as sick as that makes me. If she was a virgin, as Sam Wasserman believes she had been before the bat incident, it means her father didn’t have intercourse with her. I don’t care how old the child is, it should be classified as abuse if they are playing doctor. But unfortunately what I think about an issue doesn’t stand up in a court of law,” Albert said. “Leah Hachem will testify that Gretchen told her Jacob had been trying to abuse her since she was a child. But again, it’s hearsay. I feel like killing someone.” They went into their office sitting down at their desks facing each other. Jill and Albert had been through a lot together over the years. A lot of disappointments, Jill thought. But not now. They would not give up on Jacob Parker going to jail for life.

  “Okay, back up for a moment. We have the bat with Gretchen’s cervix cells on the end of it in from the Parker’s basement. Someone from that family killed her and they were together when whoever it was pulled the trigger. This is just pissing me off.” She stood up again and started pacing. “I’m ready to stick my neck out. Want to go to Mike Ahmed’s with me?”

  ~ ~ ~

  “This is starting to feel like harassment,” Mike Ahmed said when he saw who was at his door. Doesn’t this guy ever leave the house? Albert thought.

  “Look, there’s a good chance suspicion for Gretchen’s murder is going to be foisted on you in order to cast reasonable doubt on Jacob Parker. Do you want that?” Jill asked. “We aren’t going to try to pin anything on you, Mike. We can’t promise you aren’t going to be in trouble for whatever your role was. But by staying silent, you are giving Parker’s attorney ammunition to put you up on the witness stand in defense of Jacob.” She was careful not to lie, but she was purposely trying to sound as dramatic as possible. It was working. Mike Ahmed stepped aside. Jill was surprised to see two middle aged people she assumed to be his parents sitting at his dining room table. He confirmed it.

  “Mom and dad, meet detectives Zannos and Wong. This is a regular UN in my dining room.” Mike’s dad stood up to shake hands and his mother smiled and mouthed hello. “You can speak in front of my parents. They are here trying to decide if I should be sent to Lebanon to live with my grandparents or be forced to get a job. I don’t want to do either.” Albert was appalled. Was it possible that these parents knew their son was a rogue? Mike picked up on their hesitancy to move forward out of respect for his privacy. “My mom is an attorney; not mine, but she can tell me not to answer for free.” He pulled chairs out for Jill and Albert. Albert nodded at Jill.

  “Your son is in danger of being called as a witness for the defense. I believe that if it happens, he could be put in the position of taking some heat for a murder we investigated.” Jill was weighing her words carefully; they didn’t need a witness tampering charge on top of everything else. Mrs. Ahmed looked at her son with a strange mix of anger and apathy.

  “I’m a tax specialist, Miss Zannos, not a criminal defense attorney. My son has taken the easy road, it seems.” She looked at her husband for confirmation but he remained mute. “Does she know about you?” she asked Mike. He shook his head no. “Mike’s a graduate of Michigan’s medical program. But he doesn’t care for medicine. Of course, no one bothered to tell us about it until we paid his tuition in full. There aren’t many jobs available for a medical school graduate who’s not a doctor.” Jill thought of one, but kept her mouth shut. “So! What do we do now?” she asked. Jill looked at Albert who was struggling to keep his eyes open.

  “Mike needs to make sure we are aware of everything there is to know about his involvement with Gretchen Parker. I mean everything,” Jill said. She motioned to Albert. “We will leave now, but I am asking you to get a lawyer and come into the station as soon as possible. Today is Friday. You aren’t safe waiting until Monday.” She leaned across the table to shake Mrs. Ahmed’s hand. She found it interesting that yet another stereotype about Arab marriages had just been proven false. Mike’s mother was definitely in charge here. Mrs. Ahmed dug through her purse and brought out a card.

  “A twenty percent discount on tax preparation for you both,” she said. Jill took the card, resisting a smile. She was afraid she’d laugh. Was this a bribe or just good marketing?

  “What a goddamned waste of time,” Albert said when they were back out in the car. “I’m ready to move on. Let Alison figure it out, okay? It’s clear to me that mommy and daddy are going to advise against Mike showing up at the precinct. That asshole is in his thirties. Does it ever end?” Albert yawned. “I need coffee. I wish we had time to stop at my grandmother’s house.”

  “I’ll get you some. There’s a Speedway on Joy Road.” Jill was in a quandary. She somewhat agreed with her partner that their part in the case was finished. They had gathered evidence and handed the criminals over to the court. It wasn’t their fault that one of them had taken her own life. Now they needed to move on to the next case, whatever that would be. Murder, unfortunately, was a way of life in Detroit. In the first months of that year the homicide rate was down. By the end of February, forty human lives were taken. The violent crime rate was projected to be dramatically less than it was a few years ago, but it was still three hundred percent more than the rest of the nation. Jill loved Detroit and it made her sick that punks, reprobates, and angry fathers ruined its reputation. Suddenly, she wasn’t in a big hurry to get back to the precinct.

  “Let’s go to Nana Wong’s,” she said.

  Chapter 37

  The Surgical Services unit at the hospital where Joan Zannos worked, although several years past retirement age, was one of the busiest operating rooms in the country. They managed over sixty rooms and hundreds of nurses and surgical technologists. Joan had about had it. Physically, the job was so taxing that overweight or arthritic nurses barely stood a chance of getting through the day without having to take some kind of pain killing drug. Joan took aspirin every four hours and her stomach was rebelling even though it was only Thursday. She still had another day to get through. Her hospital grandfathered in the nurses who had been there a long time, not requiring them to work the twelve hour shifts demanded of younger nurses. Joan worked five eight hour shifts; on the inside leg of her scrub pants she’d marked off eight lines and when an hour passed, she’d cross a line off. It was the only way she got through the day. She had tried a ten hour shift, and even one twelve. There was no way in hell.

  Joan was fond of her sisters-in-law Paula and Liz. Paula lived closest, and over the years they’d come to spend weekends together antiquing or retreating at Liz’s; they would take books they had wanted to start for ages, knitting projects to work on together, and indulgent foods. Retreat weekends with the in-laws were no-diet zones. There were sometimes hard feelings from the rest of the family for their exclusion, but that didn’t change a thing. When the men went golfing or fishing or hunting, the women found a way to get together. Paula was a nurse too. Liz was a teacher. They had both retired recently and were hounding Joan to do it. They loved and accepted each other in the way women who share family histories are able to.

  Joan grew especially close to Paula. She felt protective of her and so was angry at Nick. Joan had never trusted Nick, and although she didn’t have any proof, she always thought he might be a philanderer. There was something about his arrogance that set her teeth on edge. He was in the neighborhood every day to visit Gus and Christina’s son, but in the early years, when Christina was still alive, Joan felt that there had to be some hanky panky going on between her sister-in-law and Nick. She didn’t know that Christopher was Nick’s however. That possibility never crossed her mind. Peter knew Joan wasn’t thrilled about his brother. Nick would often stop by the house when he was i
n town. If Peter wasn’t home, Joan didn’t let him in the house. He’d never tried anything, but she felt his hugs lasted just a little too long.

  Liz called Joan the night before last, filling her in on Paula’s meltdown, Dana’s funeral, the discovery of the paternity test, and Nick’s moving out. And the icing on the cake; Nick was seeing a nurse who worked in the same OR Joan worked.

  “He came home to get more of his things last night and fessed up. Paula said she had done such a great acting job pretending that she was fine with his exodus that he cozied right up to her and confessed everything. He’s in love with a girl in her thirties.” Liz laughed out loud. “Men don’t give it a thought that their bodies are not what they used to be, evidently.” Joan stretched out on her bed and switched ears. She was nervous about spending a lot of time talking on the phone in the middle of the week, no matter how dramatic the news was. Maybe she could when she retired. But Joan just couldn’t give up the money yet, so as long as she was working she just didn’t have the time to chat for long. She had two daughters, Sally who was pushing forty and her baby Jen who was still in college. Sally finally had a serious boyfriend. That meant a wedding on the horizon and she wasn’t going to skimp.