Never Enough

by Joe McGinniss

  The two men walked toward the door.

  “Don’t go, Daddy!” Leah shouted, running in from the kitchen. “We’re making milk shakes with Zoe’s mommy.”

  Zoe ran in from the kitchen, too. “Wait ’til you taste these!” she said, jumping with excitement.

  Rob shrugged at Tanzer and smiled. Tanzer was by now more than a little impatient to leave but realized it would be rude to decline the children’s offer.

  A moment later, Zoe and Leah reappeared. Each girl was holding a tall glass filled with thick pink liquid.

  “Here it is, Daddy!” Zoe said. “Special for you!” At the same time, Leah handed a glass to her father.

  “Drink it, Daddy,” Zoe said to Rob. “It’s yummy.”

  Tanzer took a sip. “What’s in it?” he asked.

  “Lots of good stuff,” his daughter said. “There’s bananas and crunched-up cookies and lots and lots of other things.”

  “How’s yours, Daddy?” Zoe asked.

  “Mmmm,” said Rob, a pink milk mustache on his upper lip.

  “Okay, here goes,” Tanzer said, draining his glass in one gulp.

  Rob did the same. “You’re right, sweetie,” he said to Zoe. “That was delicious.”

  Tanzer smiled gamely. He’d found the shake appallingly sweet and with a consistency reminiscent of Metamucil. It also left an unpleasant aftertaste. He thanked Rob again and said he’d be back later for Leah.

  As he was walking out the door, Nancy popped out of the kitchen. “Hi and good-bye,” she said. “The girls are having a great time.”

  “Thanks again,” Tanzer said. “By the way, what was in that milk shake?”

  “Oh, I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret recipe.”

  An hour later, Andrew Tanzer passed out on his living room couch. His wife couldn’t wake him. This was so out of character that she bent down to see if she could smell alcohol on his breath.

  At about the same time, Rob brought Ethan down to the Parkview playground. He thought Zoe and Leah deserved some playtime by themselves. The main item on his agenda for the rest of the day was a 7:30 p.m. conference call with his distressed-debt team—a final dot the i’s and cross the t’s session in advance of Tuesday’s Bank of China auction.

  Even at Parkview, the late afternoon air was scarcely breathable. Rob brought Ethan to the indoor section of the playground. He sat on a lawn chair to watch his son play. For a few minutes, he chatted with a Parkview neighbor named David Friedland. Then David Noh called. Noh wanted to straighten out a few details in advance of the seven-thirty conference call.

  Less than a minute into the conversation, Noh realized something was amiss. He’d asked a question about the anticipated growth rate of the value of certain parcels of Hong Kong real estate that the Bank of China was including in the auction.

  “It’s the export growth,” Rob said. “We gotta pay attention to import-export.”

  “Rob? No, no, I’m talking about the property value estimates.”

  “Do you know what’s happening with exports? What we really need is better Internet connections with the mainland.”

  “Rob? Are you feeling all right?”

  “Import-export, David. That’s the name of the game.” He laughed. His voice was slurred. “It’s all about the balance of trade. The balance of trade. But what about the balance of traders? Nobody’s looking at that.”

  “Rob, you’re not making much sense. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “You can’t have an import without an export. That’s what everybody forgets.”

  “Listen, Rob. I’m going to give you a couple of hours to clear your head. I’ll have the conference call ready to go at seven thirty.”

  Noh hung up, worried. He knew that this was the day when Rob intended to tell Nancy he was going to divorce her. Perhaps Rob had taken a few drinks to get his courage up. But it wasn’t like Rob to drink in advance of a crucial conference call. Perhaps he’d already told her, and her reaction had driven him to drink. That scenario didn’t make sense either. None of it made sense to David Noh, but he was sure Rob would explain it in the morning.

  Connie was still out at a Sunday afternoon concert, but Min had come back to the apartment.

  “I know it’s your day off, Min, but I have to ask you to do me a favor,” Nancy said. “Zoe and her friend are playing, and I don’t want to leave them alone, but Ethan is supposed to be at a picnic by six o’clock. Would you take him, please? He’s down in the playground with Mr. Kissel. Mr. Kissel will tell you where the picnic is. He can’t stay long. I want him back here by seven. And tell Mr. Kissel that I need him up here right away.”

  As soon as Min left, Nancy called the Tanzer apartment to say that Leah was welcome to stay for supper.

  “Thank you,” her mother said, “but not tonight. She still has homework and a piano lesson.”

  “That’s too bad,” Nancy said. “Then I guess Mr. Tanzer will stop by soon to pick her up?”

  “I’ll have to send our maid,” Mrs. Tanzer said. “As soon as my husband got back here this afternoon, he passed out on the couch. I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s breathing, but I still can’t wake him. I’m actually starting to worry.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Nancy said, “I’m sure he’ll be fine. When will you be sending your maid?”

  “Would seven o’clock be too late? I’m just starting to make supper.”

  “Not at all. The girls are having a great time. Seven it is.”

  At the playground, Min told Rob that Nancy needed him upstairs right away. She asked if she could borrow his watch in order to be sure she got Ethan home on time.

  “Take good care of it,” Rob said, handing Min his $15,000 gold Cartier.

  He sounded sleepy. He also seemed unsteady on his feet.

  Parkview’s closed circuit television cameras showed him entering the tower 17 elevator at 6:06 p.m.

  The Tanzers’ maid arrived at the Kissel apartment precisely at 7:00 p.m. to pick up Leah. Isabel was just returning from the party at the Aberdeen Marina Club. Min showed up with Ethan at the same time, adding to the commotion.

  “Shush, shush, shhhhhh!” Nancy said, waving a finger. “Keep your voices down.”

  She gestured down the hallway toward the closed bedroom door.

  “Daddy is sleeping.”

  PART THREE

  THE HOUR OF LEAD

  After great pain, a formal feeling comes—

  The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs—

  ….….….….….….…….

  This is the Hour of Lead—

  Remembered, if outlived,

  As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow—

  First—Chill—then Stupor—then the letting go—

  —EMILY DICKINSON

  Missing Person

  22.

  Changes which occur within the first 2 hours after death are referred to as early postmortem changes. These alterations are caused by lack of effective cardiac pumping of oxygenated blood resulting in a loss of the usual skin color. This “pallor” is first noticed in very light-skinned people as early as 15 to 30 minutes after death…At the same time, the skeletal muscles of the body, including the sphincters, relax. It is during this period that fecal soiling may occur…

  Rigor mortis, algor mortis and livor mortis are referred to as late postmortem changes because they are first observed beginning at about 2 to 4 hours after death.

  Rigor mortis, or the postmortem stiffening of the muscles, is a reversible chemical change of the muscles. It begins in all skeletal muscles shortly after death, but is first noticeable in the facial muscles as tightening of the jaw at 2 to 3 hours postmortem…After 24 hours, the entire body will be rigid…

  Algor mortis is the normal cooling of a body which takes place as the body equilibrates with the environment after death. The normal metabolic processes of the body which maintain a core temperature of 98.6°F during life cease at death and the body temperature will tend to
approach the ambient temperature. In most circumstances, this means that bodies cool after death at an approximate rate of 1.5°F per hour…

  Livor mortis (also called livor or lividity) refers to the gravitational pooling of blood in dependent parts which occurs after death. In other words, the blood pools on the down side of the body because it is no longer being circulated by the heart. Livor can be first recognized as soon as 15 minutes after death by trained observers, but it is ordinarily first evident at about 2 hours postmortem…

  —Forensic Taphonomy: The Postmortem Fate of Human Remains, edited by William D. Haglund and Marcella H. Sorg

  WHEN NANCY CAME INTO THE KITCHEN MONDAY MORNING to supervise Connie’s serving of breakfast to the children, Connie noticed a bandage between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand.

  “It’s nothing,” Nancy said. “I burned it on the toaster.”

  One of the children asked where Daddy was.

  “He’s at work. He had to leave early today.”

  Connie looked at the counter next to the breakfast table where Min had left Rob’s Cartier watch the night before. Connie could never remember him having gone to work without it.

  Nancy called Min into the kitchen. “You won’t need to clean the bedroom this morning,” she said. “I don’t want you to go in there today. Do you understand?” Min said she did.

  Connie took Isabel and Zoe down to wait for the school bus at seven thirty. Then she walked Ethan to his preschool, the Parkview International Pre-School, called PIPS. Nancy went back to the bedroom and closed the door. She called Michael Del Priore in New Hampshire, where it was just after 7:30 on Sunday night. They spoke for twenty-four minutes.

  She hung up. Then she wrote an e-mail to Scotty the Clown. She had booked Scotty and his partner Lulu for a show at the Hong Kong International School. She was supposed to meet Scotty for lunch on Tuesday, but she canceled. She wrote: “My husband is not well and I need to take care of some things. Sorry. I will be in touch soon.”

  When Connie returned to the apartment after having taken Ethan to PIPS, Nancy told her to run down to the Parkview PARKnSHOP Superstore.

  “I need some bleach powder,” Nancy said.

  As soon as Connie left, Nancy went back to the bedroom and closed the door. She called Links Relocations on Des Voeux Road in Central, a leading mover of expats and their goods between Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing, and anywhere else in the world. She said she wanted twenty packing cartons delivered that afternoon. No, she didn’t yet want to discuss details of any impending move, for now she just wanted the cartons.

  She also called the Parkview property manager. “We have a storeroom in the basement of tower fifteen,” she said, “but I’d like to rent another one right away.” He told her that none were available. She expressed considerable annoyance and hung up.

  Then she went out to shop.

  The weather had changed dramatically overnight. High pressure had wiped the sky clear of haze, the sun was shining brilliantly, and the relative humidity had dropped to a year’s low of 30 percent. With the temperature climbing toward the mid-eighties, the weather was as close to perfect as Hong Kong weather got.

  Nancy drove to the twenty-thousand-square-foot Tequila Kola Designer Warehouse in the thirty-story Horizon Plaza shopping mega-mall on Ap Lei Chau Island in Aberdeen. Tequila Kola, promising “Seduction of the Senses,” was a home furnishings store that catered almost entirely to expats who didn’t have to count the zeroes before the decimal point. Nancy knew it well. She breezed in at about 10:00 a.m. on Monday, talking loud and fast and keeping her sunglasses on. “I love that Spanish chandelier,” she called out to the first salesperson she saw, Suzara Serquina. “It’s awesome!” Then she beckoned. “Get over here. There’s a lot I need and I don’t have much time.”

  Over the next hour she bought sheets, pillows, pillowcases, cushions, a bedspread, a small rug, and a chaise longue. She insisted on Tuesday-morning delivery. She said she’d be back Tuesday afternoon to look at carpets. Ms. Serquina noted that she signed the charge slips without even looking at the total.

  When she got back to the apartment she told Min to stop housecleaning because there was more shopping to be done. She gave her a list:

  rope

  packing tape

  polyethylene sheeting (large sheets)

  When Min left, Nancy went into the bedroom and closed the door. Between 11:30 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. she emerged only long enough to get the bleach powder that Connie had bought and the various items purchased by Min and bring them back to the bedroom.

  Connie picked Ethan up at PIPS, brought him home, fed him lunch, put him down for his nap, got him up again, and took him to his 3:00 p.m. swimming lesson. Isabel and Zoe were occupied by after-school activities and did not return home until almost 5:00 p.m.

  As Connie microwaved dinner, she asked Isabel if she knew whether her father would be home to join them.

  “No,” Isabel said. “Mommy said he went to New York.”

  Rob’s Cartier wristwatch still lay on the kitchen counter. Connie looked at it and exchanged a glance with Min.

  Nancy emerged from the bedroom only briefly. “Just feed the children,” she said. “I don’t feel like eating dinner.” Then she returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

  Shortly before 7:00 p.m. she went online to look at the missing persons Web site maintained by the Hong Kong Police Force. Then she called her father in Chicago to tell him about the terrible fight she’d had with Rob and about how Rob had left and had not yet come back. As soon as she’d finished talking to her father, she called Bryna O’Shea. It was 8:30 p.m. in Hong Kong, 5:30 a.m. in San Francisco. The ringing half-awakened Bryna, but she did not answer the phone.

  When she did wake up at 8:00 a.m. she listened to the message Nancy had left.

  “You’ve got to call me. It’s very important. I just called my dad and he’s flying down here. Rob and I had a fight; he chased me around the room. He wanted to have sex. He beat me up. Call me. Please.”

  Bryna called immediately.

  “Rob beat the shit out of me last night,” Nancy said. “He was chasing me around the bedroom, demanding sex. It was terrible. He was drunk. I tried to fight him off, but he kept punching me and kicking me. He wouldn’t stop beating me. I’ve got two broken ribs. I’m going to the doctor. I’m going to get this documented.”

  “Nan, wait a minute. Where is Rob now?”

  “I don’t know. He just ran out of the apartment. He probably flew to New York.”

  To Bryna, that did not sound entirely plausible. She had shared too much of Rob’s recent sorrow, she was too aware of the resignation—not anger—she’d been hearing in his voice. And she knew that Rob had been planning to tell Nancy that he was going to file for divorce. The scene, as Nancy described it, would not come into focus.

  “This was in your bedroom? Were you dressed?”

  “Yes, yes. Well, he was getting undressed and then he started trying to tear my clothes off. He was trying to force me onto the bed.”

  “And you were screaming, fighting him off?”

  “Yes. I guess so. I don’t know. I didn’t want the kids to hear.”

  “So…how did you make him stop?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he realized how much he’d hurt me. All of a sudden he was running out of the bedroom and down the hall. Then he was gone. God, my ribs hurt. Listen, I can’t talk anymore right now. I just wanted you to know first.”

  Bryna hung up feeling that things at Parkview had gone badly amiss, but not necessarily in the way Nancy had just described. “She wasn’t believable,” Bryna would say later. “The whole story of the fight in the bedroom: it didn’t sound right. It sounded made up.”

  Nancy emerged briefly to say good night to the children as Connie put them to bed. Then she told Connie and Min to go to their room and to stay there. Then she went back into the bedroom and closed the door.

  23.

  Decomposition, or putrefa
ction, is a combination of two processes: autolysis and bacterial action. Autolysis is the breakdown of cells and organs through an aseptic chemical process caused by intracellular enzymes…Bacterial action results in the conversion of soft tissues in the body to liquids and gases…Putrefaction begins immediately upon death and usually becomes noticeable within 24 hours. As soon as death occurs, the bacteria or microorganisms within the intestinal tract escape from the bowel into the other tissues of the body. As they grow, they begin to produce gases and other properties that distort and discolor the tissues of the body.

  The discoloration is a dark greenish combination of colors and is generally pronounced within 36 hours. As a result, the body begins to swell from the putrefactive gases, emitting an extremely repugnant odor.

  —Practical Homicide Investigation: Tactics, Procedures, and Forensic Techniques (fourth edition), Vernon J. Geberth

  THE FIRST THING NANCY DID TUESDAY MORNING WAS TO send Min to the PARKnSAVE to buy peppermint oil. “It should be in their herbal section, or maybe pharmacy. It comes in small bottles. Get at least six. No, get twelve. If they don’t sell it, find someplace that does,” she said.

  Next, Nancy called Dr. Dytham to say she needed an immediate appointment because her husband had beaten her up and had hurt her. Dr. Dytham told Nancy to come in right away.

  The morning was even cooler than Monday had been. The humidity was slowly building, there were still just a few clouds in the sky. Nancy drove her Mercedes to Dr. Dytham’s office, which was located next to the Immigration Tower on Gloucester Road in the tony Wan Chai district. She arrived just before 9:00 a.m.

  She made a strong first impression. For one thing, she was dressed plainly, in a white top and dark slacks. It was the first time Dytham had seen Nancy when she had not been dressed to impress. Even her sunglasses were less flashy than usual. Second, she seemed barely able to walk. She was hunched over almost double and crept slowly across the waiting room as if each step caused her great pain. As soon as she entered the examining room she sat down and started to cry.