Mava’s hand flew to her mouth when she saw the headline: Is Santa Dead? She hurriedly skimmed the columns of print. A red Santa suit was found on Washington Street, about five blocks east of the department store. Red stains, thought to be blood, were found on the white wool down the front of the jacket. Although Santa himself was not located, the local police suspected a crime had been committed. Possibly homicide.
Homicide. Did Nick meet with foul play? Mava felt sick at the thought. And sad. How could this be happening? She’d lost friends and patients so many times during the war. Nick wasn’t exactly a friend yet, but she’d hoped that he would be.
Concentrating during her busy shift proved difficult. There were multitudes of shoppers, many accompanied by children. Mava heard one boy of about ten say to his younger sister, “Do you think Santa will come this year? Maybe there won’t be any Christmas.” The younger girl’s eyes welled with tears and she stifled a sob. Her mother grabbed her daughter in a bear hug. “You hush your mouth, now,” she said to the boy. Harsh words, but her tone was gentle. “Of course, there will be Christmas this year. Don’t worry,” she said to both children in a soothing tone.
Mava wished she could be reassured. Janet didn’t say a word about Nick, but she did give her a quick hug before leaving. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Mava clocked out and walked home in gently falling snow. Ordinarily, she’d be enchanted with the snowflakes and their arrival on Christmas Eve. Tonight, though, she only wanted to get home and lock the door behind her. Once in her apartment, she forced herself to place her wrapped presents in a large Ayres shopping bag, so they’d be ready for the trip to Plainfield the next day. Her task finished, she curled up on the settee and stared out the window.
Mava arose Christmas morning with a hollow feeling in her chest. She dressed in her plaid skirt and the new bright red twinset, wishing she could feel more festive. After smoothing her dark brown hair, she added the holly barrette she’d bought on a whim at G. C. Murphy’s five and dime. Her brother picked her up in his newly purchased sedan, so proud of his first car, even though it sported a few dents and a little rust. In his enthusiasm, he didn’t notice her distraction. Once back at the family homestead, the gift exchange was lively and her mother’s dinner excellent. But even her favorite anise cookies didn’t brighten Mava’s mood. She saw her father flash a glance of concern her way.
“We’re so glad you’re home this year,” he said, giving her a little squeeze of a hug.
He probably thinks that I’m remembering incidents during the war. When twilight fell, Mava asked her brother to take her home.
December twenty-sixth was a chaotic churning of humanity at Ayres, everyone bringing in their yuletide gifts for exchange. During a brief break, Mava checked her company mailbox. A tiny notecard in an envelope lay on its shelf. The brief message inside was dated December twenty-third.
I was quite serious when I said I wanted to get to know you better. Looking forward to the New Year.
(St.) Nick.
Mava bit her lip.
At the close of her day, police detectives arrived in the housewares department. They explained their case was technically a missing person’s case. There was no body, so they couldn’t say that a murder had been committed. Still, the blood on the Santa Suit suggested someone had met with a violent encounter. And Nick was missing.
Everyone who worked on the eighth floor was asked to stay after hours. One at a time, they were ushered into the break room. When Mava entered, the detective asked her about her interactions with the department store Santa.
Mava had little to say. He intrigued her, she admitted. She was looking forward to getting to know him better. “But actually,” she said. “I knew very little about him. He told me first name was Nick, but I didn’t know his last name. He seemed to be a loyal employee, though, and his disappearance struck me as being out of character. He said he was going to work in the luggage department after the holidays.”
She remembered the note. “I found this today.”
The two detectives looked at it and handed it back to her. “It does look like he intended to return to work,” the taller one said, shrugging his shoulders. “If you think of anything else, here’s my card.”
Mava put the card in her pocket. She tried to ask the detectives a few questions, but they were evasive. On her way out of the room, she saw a discarded newspaper in the wastebasket and picked it up. She could only bring herself to read one paragraph of the update on the Santa story. No body. No distinct footprints leaving the scene. The sidewalks surrounding the area where the suit was found were either bare, or a sloppy mess of boot tracks on top of each other. Sounded like the police had little information to work with.
Janet came out of the detectives’ temporary office a few minutes later. She met Mava’s eyes, her own expression somber. “Tell you what,” her coworker said. “Let’s grab a bite down the block at the hamburger counter. I could use someone to talk to before I go home tonight.”
Mava locked arms with her. “Agreed. Let’s get our coats and be on our way.”
A few minutes later, they were looking out the diner’s dark windows, watching passers-by. The wind was picking up, more than one gentleman lost his hat to a gust as he rounded the corner onto Washington Street.
“This whole thing is so sad.” Janet sipped a cherry cola and munched on a hamburger. “I’m going to ask Skip what he knows about Nick.” Mava knew Skip was a friend of Janet’s brother and he worked in the furniture department.
Mava took a long draw of her 7 Up. “I’m going to talk to the Personnel Department. Don’t know if they’ll tell me, but I’m going to try and find out where Nick lived.”
“Wasn’t his address in the newspaper?”
Mava shook her head. “Don’t know. I could only bring myself to skim the articles. But if Nick didn’t live alone, and I can talk with whoever lived with him, maybe I could learn something useful. Even if he lived by himself, there might be a neighbor.”
Janet cocked her head. “Your idea might pan out. I’ll see if Skip knows anything about his address, too.”
Mava could hardly wait to see Janet the next morning. She’d come in a few minutes early and stopped in Personnel. They wouldn’t give her Nick’s address, but they did share his last name: Mickleson. At least she had a full name to work with.
Janet seemed out of breath as she approached the cash register. “I don’t have an address for Nick. At least, not yet. But I was just down on the seventh floor, visiting Skip. He told me that Nick lived with his brother Thomas.”
“And I know their last name is Mickleson!” Mava realized she was almost shouting when two heads turned their way from across the aisle. She lowered her head and whispered. “With a first and last name to work with, I’m sure I can come up with something.”
During her morning stop for coffee in the break room, Mava found the telephone book located under the phone provided for employees. A number and address were listed for Thomas Mickleson, but not for Nick. Thomas lived on Massachusetts Avenue, less than a mile from Ayres. Mava had the next day off because she’d worked Christmas Eve. She’d head over to the Mickleson address first thing in the morning.
Sunshine streamed through her bedroom window. Almost nine o’clock! Mava washed her face and dressed quickly. After a bite of toast, she bounded down the two flights of stairs from her apartment and emerged onto the sidewalks of St. Clair. The bright sunshine helped to boost her mood. Maybe she’d find out something from Thomas. Hopefully, he’d be at home.
She arrived at the Massachusetts Avenue address in less than fifteen minutes. She entered the vestibule and scanned the mailboxes. A thin placard under the box for apartment 303 bore the name “Mickleson”. She walked up three flights of stairs and found the door for apartment 303 on the north side of the hallway. She inhaled sharply, then knocked as she let out a pent-up breath.
“Who’s there?” The voi
ce was masculine, sharp—almost hostile.
“I’m a friend of Nick’s.” Mava felt her heart rate accelerate. She never thought of telling anyone her plan for the day. She should have given Janet the specifics, at least.
The door opened abruptly, causing Mava to let out a little yelp. She found herself eyeball to eyeball with a man in a bathrobe, tattered corduroys peeking out from its hem. While Mava struggled to come up with something to say, the man’s expression softened a little.
“I’m sorry, miss.” He hung his head and sighed. “It’s just that I’ve been wound tighter than a top since my brother disappeared. I hope you have some good news for me.”
Mava took a deep breath. “I wish I did. But I thought if I had a chance to talk to you, his brother, maybe that could help find him. I just met Nick recently, so I really don’t know much about him.” The man looked at her with a blank expression. “I worked with Nick. I’m a sales clerk on the eighth floor, the same floor as the Santa Cottage.”
The man nodded his head. “I’m Nick’s brother, Thomas. But you probably already figured that out. Come in, come in.”
Mava felt she could risk entering his apartment. Really, I have no choice if I want to find Nick. It appeared Thomas’ unit only had windows facing the northwest, and the place seemed dark and dreary, even on this sunny day. Thomas indicated she could sit in an armchair, while he moved some newspapers and sat on a worn sofa. The room smelled of stale tobacco; an ashtray at Thomas’s elbow was crowded with unfiltered butts.
“I was hoping to learn something that could help me find Nick,” she began in a gentle voice. “I only met him the day before he disappeared, and he seemed so nice. Did he enjoy his position, playing Santa?”
Thomas put his face in his hands, then met Mava’s gaze before answering. “He loved that job, sister. See, he was in the war, in Europe, as a medic. He saw some awful bad stuff there, would never talk about it much. He said this job was a chance to spread happiness for the season. After Christmas, he was planning on a place in the luggage department.”
“Yes, Nick mentioned that,” Mava nodded. “But I didn’t know that he’d been a soldier. I’m a nurse and was in the ANC. Nick and I probably had some experiences that were similar.”
“That may be true,” Thomas nodded. “Do you have nightmares? There’s been times that I heard Nick moan in his sleep.”
“Yes, I understand about nightmares.” Mava paused before asking another question. “Can you tell me a little about what Nick did when he wasn’t at work?”
Thomas looked across the room before answering. “Well, he’d go for long walks. At least that’s what he said. He said he found groups of homeless men, especially under the bridges, near the river. Some of them had been GIs. He said he felt sorry for them. After his shift, he’d buy up all the unsold pastries in the fancy cookie department and take a big box of them down to the men.”
Mava managed a little smile. “Nick sounds like a sweet guy. Did you ever go with him on his walks?” Maybe she could find out specifics of his route.
Thomas gave her a quick, lopsided smile while he shook his head. “Naw, I couldn’t keep up with him.” He raised his corduroys to a couple inches below the knee. His right leg looked normal, but the left had a much thinner appearance, the calf muscle was underdeveloped.
“You had polio. I’m so sorry.”
Thomas nodded. “Yep. I was 4-F. Walking more than a block is tough, especially at Nick’s pace.” He let his pantlegs fall to cover his legs.
Mava reached forward and put a hand on Thomas’s knee. “It sounds like Nick has a concerned brother, one who’s worried about him.” She stood. “Thanks for sharing your information with me, I’m going to see if I can’t use it to discover Nick’s whereabouts.”
“I’m wishing you all of the luck in the world, lady. Hope you find him.”
“Thank you, Thomas. I’ll let myself out.”
Returning to the sidewalk with its bright sunshine and crisp shadow brightened Mava’s mood just a smidgin. The situation about Nick was certainly bleak and sitting in the apartment he shared with Thomas only made it seem more so. She crossed her fingers. Let me find Nick alive and well. Surely, if he started regular employment in the luggage department, he’d be able to afford a better apartment.
She was touched by the story about the sweets. She could walk around the bridges near the White River and Fall Creek. Maybe she’d run into someone who’d know something. Any tidbit of information might help. She tried to think of bridges near the downtown area, places where Nick might walk after work or on his days off. There was a bridge near the City Hospital, one several blocks west of Ayres, and one north of the downtown area and not far from her own apartment. She’d try to get to them all today.
She walked across the downtown area and stopped in the diner she’d visited with Janet for a quick sandwich and a cup of coffee. After she finished her hurried meal, she put on the cap and gloves she’d wadded into her pocket, buttoned up her coat, and headed to the riverfront near the City Hospital. Once she’d half-slid, half sidestepped to the bank, she could see a few shacks made of scraps of wood. A few were constructed out of cardboard. Smoke rose from one of them. It was a wretched place and the genteel would have avoided setting foot near it. But she’d been in worse, with shells exploding all around.
A man wrapped in an army blanket approached her. His grizzled face could’ve been belonged to a man of twenty-five or forty-five years. She caught a glimpse of a metal chain against the back of his neck—probably attached to a dog tag.
“We don’t see many ladies down around these parts.” His voice was scratchy, tentative.
Mava felt a little shaky. “I expect you don’t.” She managed a smile. “Fact is, I was trying to find out something about a man named Nick. I heard he brought treats down to the river. Do you know him?”
The man shook his head and spat tobacco juice on the ground. “Nick!” he said, shaking his head. “I haven’t seen him for a few days. Sure miss the cookies and doughnuts. And his terrible jokes.”
Mava nodded. “It would help me a lot if you could tell me the last time you saw him. Can you think back? How many days has it been?”
The man looked down at the ground. Mava could see his fingers flex in their worn gloves. He appeared to be counting.
“I would say four days, maybe five. Before Christmas.”
“That helps a lot. Anything unusual about his visit on that day?”
“Well, he brought the goodies, the same as always. But he was carrying a Santa suit. I gave him a hard time about that.”
“Did he leave with the Santa suit?”
“Yes’m. He did. Laughed and joked a little, left the treats, then went on his way.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much. If you see Nick tell him, his friends and brother are looking for him. He disappeared just before Christmas.”
The man’s jaw dropped and Mava could see the plug of tobacco between his teeth and cheek. “You don’t say! Yes’m, if I see him I sure will tell him.”
Mava walked a half block to the east, where the bank was less steep before coming back to the sidewalk. At least one witness had seen Nick the evening on December twenty-third, and he had appeared to be fine.
Next, she walked west toward the bridge over the White River. The neighborhood to the south of Tenth Street was a shamble of clapboard cottages and small outbuildings. Some of them were probably outhouses, she realized. She saw women and children in some yards. One older girl hung semi-frozen laundry on a line. Mava decided to turn around, from Thomas’s description of Nick’s activities, this did not sound like the type of environment he had visited on his rounds.
That left the Fall Creek bridge, north of her apartment. A sharp wind attacked her neck. If she hadn’t been in a hurry, she would’ve stopped at her place to pick up a scarf. Clouds were rolling in, suggesting that snow may fall in a couple of hours.
The Fall Creek bridge had lamps on both the nor
th and south edges. St. Vincent Hospital stood on the north side of Fall Creek, which was as wide as a river. St. Vincent, where she’d spent her student days. That relatively carefree period of her life seemed ages ago. But the proximity to the place of her training brought her a sense of courage coupled with optimism.
She skirted the southwest lamppost and began her descent to the riverbank. There were three small shelters there. All were less well constructed than the shanties nearer the City Hospital. Mava heard nothing other than the sounds of traffic passing over the bridge. Then, a man in a tattered coat came out of the shelter nearest to the river. Mava could see newsprint peeking out of the coat’s lapel. His breath took the form of fluffy frost. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m a friend of Nick’s,” Mava stood motionless as she spoke. “Do you know him? He sometimes brought doughnuts.”
The man smiled at the word “doughnuts”. “Yes, I know him. I saw him yesterday morning, though, and there weren’t no doughnuts. He weren’t wearing no coat, either. And he was acting crazy.”
Mava felt her heart sink. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Why do you say he was acting crazy?”
“Huh.” The man shrugged as if Mava should know the answer. “Well, like I said, lady, he weren’t wearing a coat! And for another thing, he walked on the ice to cross the river. Must’ve been frozen solid enough. He could’ve drowned.”
Mava shivered at his words. “Yes, he certainly could have. Thank you for the information. You’ve been helpful. In the meantime, if you see Nick, tell him to go home to his brother.”
The man shook his head. “The last time I saw Nick, he didn’t know who he was. I’m sure he forgot about any brother he had.”
Mava couldn’t think of anything more to say. She nodded and climbed up the river bank. Nick’s situation sounded like combat stress. She’d nursed a few patients with that condition after battles in Europe. Some of them had been injured, others were physically unscathed, but mentally fragile. As a medic, Nick had probably seen some terrible things. Formerly healthy young soldiers…she found herself shaking her head. She didn’t like to think of those images. Could a physical altercation on the street, the flash of a knife blade, or the sound of a gunshot have triggered something in Nick?
Homicide for the Holidays Page 14
