The Mussorgsky Riddle

by Darin Kennedy

  ira?” Caroline’s voice is distant, as if she’s shouting from the far end of a tunnel. “Can you hear me? Mira?”

  I force open my eyes and bring a hand to my face. Drenched in sweat, I awake on the floor of the Faircloth living room. Archer looks down on me, his upside down features melting from concern to relief.

  “I take it you ran afoul of the witch,” he says.

  “What was your first clue?” As always, my sojourn through the Exhibition in Anthony’s mind has left my voice a bit raspy, but not nearly to the degree of previous trips. I pull my sleeve across my brow and try to sit up. I fail.

  “She booted me.” My eyes attempt to focus on the lighting fixture above me. “But not before one of the women of The Marketplace revealed something. Something big.”

  Caroline returns to the room, a wet washcloth in her hand. “What did you learn?”

  “Understand I’m basing all of this on the testimony of a woman who only exists in Anthony’s imagination, but,” I glance back and forth from Archer to Caroline, “it appears Julianna was pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” All color leaves Caroline’s face. “And the father? Did you learn that?”

  Shit. I was so focused on Glenn Hartman, it didn’t occur to me Jason is just as likely a possibility on that one. No telling how far around the baseball diamond those two had run. Not to mention the pregnancy itself is no more than a rumor told to me by a fictional character in a comatose boy’s mind.

  “I’m sorry, Caroline. That’s all I can say at this point.” I massage my temples as yet another headache tries to start behind my right eye. “Does Anthony even know what the word pregnant means?”

  “He was always an astute boy,” Caroline says. “I never lied to him or put him off regarding matters of birds and bees.”

  “And even if he didn’t quite get all the details, understanding Julianna was carrying a baby is not out of bounds?”

  “The kid’s created his own internal reality, complete with multiple sets and supporting cast, all within his own mind,” Archer says. “I don’t think understanding where babies come from is too much of a stretch.”

  “Two points to the only doctor in the room.” I try a second time to sit up, and meeting with more success, rest the back of my head on the cool fabric of Caroline’s couch. “The real question is, did Hartman know?”

  “Would explain a lot,” Archer says. “We’ve already seen him get irrational and violent trying to keep a secret under wraps. Who’s to say what he’d do if there was a chance it could come out he knocked up one of his students?”

  “We’ll never know till we ask.” The spinning room slows down a notch. I push myself up out of the floor and sink into the cushions behind me. “Give me a few minutes to collect myself and we’ll head down to the police station and see if Glenn Hartman is up for a chat.”

  “It’s posted right there on the wall.” Looking for all the world like a bulldog with a close shave, the cop manning the desk has on his game face. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but evening visiting hours don’t start till eight. Plus, I’m not sure they’re even done processing Mr. Hartman just yet.”

  “Pardon me, Officer Bryce, but what part of ‘emergency’ do you not understand?”

  “Emergency.” Bryce picks up the clipboard from his desk and motions around the room. “See this list? I’ve got at least a dozen ‘emergency’ visitors waiting to come back and see their people, and more on the way. Your guy was picked up this morning for assault on a minor, not to mention possible charges in another case, so pardon my lack of enthusiasm.”

  “It’s all right, Mira. It’s just another hour.”

  “Are you two family?” Bryce raises an eyebrow. “Or lawyers, maybe?”

  Archer steps in before I can jam my toes farther down my throat. “We have urgent business to discuss with Mr. Hartman involving the health of a child. Trust me. He’ll want to see us.”

  “Fill out this form, then, and we’ll see what happens.”

  Archer and I grab a couple of seats, and I drop into mine with a huff. I don’t like waiting, and I’ve spent the majority of the day in one waiting room or another.

  “What’s got you so riled up all of a sudden?” Archer asks. “You’ve always taken this business with Anthony seriously, but you’ve been different since your last ‘walk’ through the Exhibition. Is everything okay?”

  Isabella’s mischievous grin flashes across my thoughts.

  “Let’s just say if my suspicions are accurate, I will do everything in my power to make sure Glenn Hartman never sees the outside of a prison for the rest of his life.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Officer Bryce shows us through a locked door and back to a large room with four sets of tables and benches, all bolted to the concrete floor. Archer and I wait at the table in the corner for several minutes before one of the doors on the opposite wall opens, allowing in a small gaggle of men all dressed in day-glow orange.

  At the back of the crowd, Glenn Hartman looks around the room as if in a daze. He glances in our direction, his expression going immediately cold when his eyes meet mine. He pauses by the doorway, most likely considering whether to talk to us or not, but eventually joins us at the table.

  “Hmm.” He sits with a huff. “I figured it’d be someone from the school.”

  “Hello, Mr. Hartman.” I slip into my best approximation of a smile. “My name is Mira Tejedor.”

  “You were at the Faircloth house this morning.” His eyes drill through me like twin lasers. “What do you want?” The pungent vinegar of anger fills my senses and I have to suppress a cough.

  “We’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you’ll allow it.”

  “Are you cops?”

  “Wouldn’t be stuck in the visitor’s area if we were cops.”

  “I’ve already got representation, if that’s why you’re here.”

  “We’re not lawyers either.” I glance down at the table before again meeting his gaze. “We’re friends of the Faircloth family.”

  His nostrils flare as he gets up from the table. “In that case, I’m out of here.”

  “Wait.” I shoot out of my seat as he turns to leave. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say. It’s about… J.”

  A chemical tang cuts the vinegar odor filling my senses. I’ve got his attention.

  He sits back down. “I’m listening.”

  “There’s a lot going on here, and I may be able to help you, Mr. Hartman. First things first, though. Can you tell me why you were at the Faircloth home this morning?”

  “You’re not cops, but you’re going to sit here and interrogate me?”

  “Just giving you a chance to explain yourself. Any particular reason you dropped by the Faircloth’s and tried to beat the snot out of a high school senior before sunrise?”

  “Like you don’t know.” Hartman leans in, whispering. “You’ve seen the pictures. I can see it in your eyes. What would you have done?”

  I draw close, keeping my voice down. “You’re admitting you were having an affair with Julianna Wagner?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Hartman’s cheeks grow a shade more crimson.

  I take a deep breath. “You went to their house at six in the morning and tried to knock the front door down. Something got you pretty worked up.”

  “I was heading out for my morning jog. Found an envelope sticking out of my mailbox and took a look inside. I wasn’t thinking too straight after that.”

  “And you assumed Jason Faircloth left those pictures for you to find?”

  Hartman glances around the room before turning his attention back on me. “The kid’s always acted real strange around me. Nosing around after school, getting in my business.” His voice drops to an angry whisper. “Not to mention the fact his initials were written at the bottom of the note.”

  “Way I see it, he had good cause.” I cock my head to one side. “You were sleeping with his girlfriend, after all.”

  Hartman’s eye
s grow wide. “We’re done here.”

  He shoots up from the table a second time and turns to walk away. Archer glances at me sidelong, but keeps his cool. A moment later Hartman deflates and sits back down.

  “Look, I know this looks bad, but I didn’t touch her.”

  I drop my chin and give him a blink or two. “Really?”

  He gives me a look that says “Go to hell” more than any three words ever could. “You know what I mean.”

  “Mr. Hartman, if you were caught sleeping with one of your students, your career would be pretty much over, wouldn’t it?”

  His hands ball into fists atop the table. “If such a scenario were the case, I suppose losing my job would be a possibility.”

  “And if she disappeared, and you didn’t come forward, what do you think that suggests?”

  “I told you. I didn’t touch her.”

  “Was it when you found out she was pregnant? Is that what tipped you over the edge?”

  Hartman’s eyes grow wide. “What did you say? Pregnant?”

  “Come on, Glenn.” I cross my arms before me. “You’re not seriously going to try to pull the blissful ignorance card, are you?”

  “But we were careful. She said she was…” Hartman’s gaze falls to his lap. “You’re sure?” The vinegar and chemical smells vanish, replaced by the unmistakable aroma of old scotch.

  I glance over at Archer, who appears as surprised as I feel, then back at Hartman.

  “You… didn’t know.”

  “Does it look like I knew?” Only the tremor in Hartman’s lower lip betrays his stoic facade. “Wait. How the hell could you know? Have they found her? Where is she?”

  “That’s all for today.” I rise and head for the door leading out, my heart pounding in my chest. I half expect Hartman to come after me, but as I look back at his pitifully angry face, it’s clear he realizes he’s in it deep enough as it is.

  The guard opens the door and I step out of the room with Archer close behind.

  “That was pretty abrupt,” he says. “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t believe it.” I fall back against the wall. “He really didn’t know.”

  Archer and I return to the Faircloth house. Caroline’s eyes are swollen from crying. Rachel’s upstairs in bed and Anthony lies resting on the couch, his head in his mother’s lap. As she strokes his dark brown hair, it occurs to me it’s the calmest I’ve seen the boy in some time. No humming, no agonized grimace marring his innocent face, as if he’s merely sleeping instead of being trapped within the labyrinth of his own mind. And for once, he’s accepting his mother’s touch without drawing away.

  “And you believed him?” Caroline asks.

  I tap at my temple. “I’d never claim a hundred percent accuracy on this kind of stuff, but it’s kind of hard to lie to me.”

  “This begs a bigger question.” Archer sits in the chair opposite Caroline. “Maybe two.”

  I crash into Caroline’s well worn loveseat. “And those would be?”

  “If Hartman didn’t know about the pregnancy, he doesn’t have nearly as much of a motive for murder.” Archer leans forward. “Who did?”

  “They were sleeping together.” I bite my lip as I try to put it all together. “She could have threatened to expose him.”

  “Did you see his face when he found out she was pregnant?” Archer’s lips pull to one side. “It was more than surprise. He seemed, I don’t know, sad.”

  “You think he wanted the baby?”

  “I think he had real feelings for the girl.”

  “Whoa,” Caroline interjects. “Tell me we’re not all jumping on the ‘Free Glenn Hartman’ bandwagon here.”

  “No, Caroline, but I have to tell you, if he’s hiding something, he’s good. He may be angry and feeling a bit guilty, but that’s all I got today. Either he’s so smooth he’s fooling my psychic bullshit sensor or there’s still more to this story.”

  Caroline turns to Archer. “And the other one, Thomas? You said there were two questions.”

  Archer scratches his chin, a subconscious tic I’ve caught him doing most when he’s in a quandary. “The reason we’re all here. Me, you, Mira. Regardless of what happened between Glenn Hartman and Julianna Wagner, how does any of it relate to Anthony or his condition?” He rises from the chair and kneels beside Anthony, the boy’s placid face showing no evidence he’s heard a word we’ve said. “Anthony’s current state, the Exhibition, the witch, the ties to everyone involved. There’s a link there. I’m sure of it.”

  The click of the front door brings all three of us to our feet. A moment later, Jason strides past all of us heading for his room.

  “Jason,” Caroline says. “Where have you been?”

  “Out.” Jason does his best to avoid his mother’s gaze. “Needed to think.”

  “You needed to think.” Caroline’s hand goes to her hip. “You could’ve called me or just answered your stupid cell phone one of the last fifty times I called you today. Do you know how many people I’ve had hunting for you? I’ve been worried sick.”

  A flicker of contrition passes Jason’s features. “Sorry, Mom.”

  “You’re home now. Go start dinner. We’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay,” he says. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You’re not hungry.” Caroline motions to Anthony’s still form. “I’ve been stuck in this house all day taking care of your brother and waiting for a call back since you ran off this morning. I’ve barely eaten two bites today. Now, drop all this macho crap and help me put together something to eat before I start gnawing on your leg.”

  Jason barely succeeds in keeping his eyes from rolling, a move that probably saves him a slap across the face. “Can I go clean up first?”

  “Actually, I have a question for Jason.” I rise from the chair.

  “There’s a shocker.” Jason speaks just loud enough to ensure I can hear.

  “Can’t it wait, Mira?” Caroline asks. “He just got back.”

  “It’s a simple thing, really.” I motion to the manila package resting on the dining room table. “Mr. Hartman drove all the way over here before sunrise and tried to beat down your door over the pictures in that envelope. The note is signed with your initials.”

  “Mira, please,” Caroline says.

  “You think I did this.” Jason glares back and forth from his mother to me. “Sent those pictures.” His face grows red. “And now you think I killed Julianna too.” He storms out of the room and down the hall. The force of the slamming door nearly pops my eardrums.

  Caroline shoots me a withering glance. “Thank you, Mira.”

  “You can’t hang on to those photos forever. What do you think the police are going to do?”

  “I just wanted one night of peace. Is that so much to ask?”

  Archer joins us by the foyer. “Mira’s right. As awful as it is, we need to know if Jason took those pictures, and more importantly, if he knew.”

  “Knew what?” Caroline’s frantic gaze passes from Archer to me.

  My hand goes to my hip. “That his missing ex-girlfriend was carrying a baby.”

  “You’re going to tell him?” Caroline begins to pace. “What if he doesn’t know?” She wrings her hands. “That kind of news will kill him.”

  “I think he can take it,” Archer says. “He’s tough.”

  “That’s what he shows the world.” Caroline rejoins Anthony on the couch and strokes his mussed hair. “Jason may seem like he’s all rough and tumble, but he’s one of the more sensitive people I know. You should have seen the way he and Julianna were when they were together.”

  “Which would make it all the more painful if he found out she was sleeping with someone else, especially one of her teachers.”

  Caroline turns from us. “Jason didn’t hurt anyone.”

  I rest a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “That’s what we all want to believe, but there were two people involved with Julianna.”
<
br />   “And just because Glenn Hartman didn’t set off your little psychic lie detector today, Jason moves to the top of your list?” She shrugs away my hand. “I’m so glad you both have so much faith in my son.”

  “It’s not like that, Caroline.” I stoop in an attempt to catch her gaze. “It’s―”

  “Now, Caroline,” Archer says. “You know as well as I do those photos aren’t all you’re hiding. I’ve admired how well you’ve held it together through this entire thing, but if you’re going to stand here and argue with us, perhaps you owe Mira the courtesy of the whole truth.”

  The pungent stench of sulfur fills my mind as Caroline’s eyes grow wide. “What are you―”

  “What you told me on the phone earlier today.” Archer’s lips narrow into a thin line.

  “Thomas,” Caroline says, refusing to meet my gaze. “Don’t.”

  “What is it, Caroline?” Her sudden fear hits me like a hurricane of sulfur. “What haven’t you told me?”

  Caroline lets out a weary sigh. “The night Julianna disappeared. We were all sick, you know. Some kind of stomach bug.”

  “I’ve heard this story. The four of you were holed up here all night.”

  “Anthony started throwing up a couple hours after dinner and wouldn’t stop. I spoke to the doctor on call who phoned him in some medicine.” Caroline bites her lip. “I had to drive to the pharmacy around eight and pick up the prescription. Left Jason in charge. I was only gone for half an hour, but the truth is I didn’t see him again till the next morning.”

  “You didn’t check on him?”

  “I figured he was asleep and didn’t want to wake him. I was up half the night taking care of Anthony and Rachel and truth be told, I was sort of glad at least one of my kids survived the evening without Dr. Mom. That is, till everything hit the fan the next morning.”

  “But his alibi.” I glance in the direction of the hallway. “It’s all a lie.”

  “I know.” Caroline’s pale cheeks continue their progression toward bright pink. “No one is putting a child of mine in jail.” She turns toward the hall. “Jason? Can you come out here, please?”