by Susan Rieger
Dear Daddy:
I don’t understand why you don’t love mommy and me anymore. What did we do to make you mad at us? I know I sometimes don’t listen to you. I know mommy sometimes doesn’t listen. Is that the reason? It won’t happen again.
Mommy is sad. I’m sure you can see it. I think she still loves you. You should give her a second chance. She makes you laugh. Isn’t that a good thing?
I’ll be good if you will love us again. I promise. I won’t sulk and I won’t whine, ever. Cross my heart and hope to die. I love you Daddy.
Your loving daughter,
Jane
ps If you and Mommy get divorced, where will Mommy and me live? Will we live in the house in Marthas Vinyard? It has no toilet inside. That’s all right in the summer but not in January.
ps2 Where will Tito and Fido live? If they could talk, they’d say they’re very sad about the divorce.
ps3 What happens if Mommy dies? I can live with Poppa. He says I can live with him always and forever. But I want us all together, you, Mommy, and me. We are the 3 Musketeers. 1 for all and all for 1.
Harry
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Sat, 19 June 1999 16:18:51
Subject: Harry 6/19/99 4:18 PM
Dear Maggie,
I had brunch this morning with Harry. We’re back to the early days of dating (though not our early days, more like Gidget’s. He picks me up, he drops me off, he kisses me chastely on the cheek and leaves). It is almost too weird (that sounds as if regular weird were okay). Truth is, I don’t much feel like having sex with him, and I don’t know if I can take much more of this. We talk easily enough, sometimes even about Monkey, but there’s no heat. He doesn’t want to see me anymore (it’s oddly not personal, and I take it that way, oddly for me), but he wants to be a decent person and he can’t see a way out without being a dog. I shall have to break it off, another bye-Jacking. I’ve been breaking up with boys for over a decade, ever since Jack. What is the matter with men? Just once I’d like a boy to break up with me, to do the manly thing, face-to-face, and not in public. Jack said it was always easier if the girl did the breaking up, and I guess it’s a fraternity policy. It worked for him. He was such a master; he even cried when I told him I was breaking up with him for being so drunk and so mean. Ah, Jack, sexy, drunk, mean Jack—the platonic bad boyfriend, a bad boyfriend for the Guinness Book of Bad Boyfriends, high school division. Harry isn’t so much a bad boyfriend these days as a non-boyfriend. And it’s not his fault and it’s not mine. Maman’s advice was to marry American Jewish, and not fancy American Jewish (no Mayflower Sephardim, no Temple Emanu-El Jews, no displaced Czech match kings, no French Jews—which goes without saying), just your standard-issue, wild, funny, ambitious Russian Jew.
I’ll be up to see you in the Shaw the weekend of the 10th. Maman’s coming with me. She got us a room at the Williamstown Inn, so I won’t be camping on your couch. You’re not to think about us—it’s a working weekend for you—except that we’ll be in the audience Saturday night, center row, center seats, cheering for you. And, of course, we’ll come backstage after.
Love,
Sophie
* * *
My Father
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Sun, 20 June 1999 22:29:49
Subject: My Father 6/20/99 10:29 PM
Maggie—
Terrible news. My father has prostate cancer. He says it’s not life-threatening and he’s not doing anything about it—just watching and waiting. (Waiting for what? Stage 4?) English medicine. I didn’t get to see him. He called. He got the diagnosis about a month ago. He was waiting for the right time to tell me and then realized there is no right time. (I tried to call you, but there was no answer and I couldn’t leave this message on a phone machine.)
I am so upset. I was all ready to blast him for horribleness to us all, and he gets a fatal disease. Just like him. How long do you have to wait before you can get angry at someone with cancer? Does it make a difference if it’s your father? I’m thinking 3 weeks.
And don’t tell me this anger is just a mask for my terror at the thought he is dying. It’s typical of him. He’s untouchable. I don’t think any of us ever got to tell him what a wretch of a father he was. He had that English way of making it impermissible. (Not that Maman took personal criticism well. When we’d start in, she’d say, “I’m not interested in that. Talk to me about something interesting.”) The closest was Francoise, who refused to kiss him for years. (I’m not sure she’s started up again.) It started when she was about 13, after he began to notice her. In the beginning, he’d ask her why, laughing as though it was a secret they were sharing. “Just don’t feel like it,” she’d say, or “Not in the mood.” As time wore on, he made a joke of it, sort of, leaning down to kiss her, then drawing back, saying, “Ah, I forgot, no kisses.” But she would just look at him, unsmiling. God, she had perseverance. So admirable. If grudge holding were a sport, she’d have medaled in it. Reminds me of the joke about Irish Alzheimer’s. Maybe she is Cummings’s daughter.
I don’t want him to die, Mags. Tomorrow I have to call Sally to find out the real story. Of course, I called Maman straightaway. It made her sad, I could tell. She doesn’t want him to die either, not yet; she wants him to apologize to her first. And she wants him to live for our sakes.
Maybe I’ll write him a letter.
I’m being awful. I know you love him too. I told him I’d tell you. He said that was okay. I know he’d like to hear from you. Now I’m going on Yahoo to look up prostate cancer.
Love,
Sophie
POLICE BLOTTER
New Salem Police report that the first day of summer has brought its usual round of hooliganism and mayhem.
VANDALISM TO SAINT CLOUD LAWN, GARDEN. 404 Saint Cloud Street: At 4 p.m., Sunday, June 20, police were called to the residence of Dr. Daniel E. Durkheim, in response to reported acts of vandalism to the house and grounds. Sometime in the early morning on Sunday, an individual in a Hummer or other large 4×4 vehicle with super-sized, all-terrain tires drove across the lawn and gardens of the property, tearing up the sod and driving over the beds. A large copper beech was deeply gouged, and a 40-foot hedgerow was badly damaged. The copper beech may have to come down, a great loss to Saint Cloud Street. Dating back to the beginning of the 19th century, it is one of 20 copper beeches that stand over 50 feet tall and line the street. The house on the property was also subject to vandalism; graffiti was sprayed across the front walls and windows, with the words: “$AVE US FROM DOCTOR$.” Damages are likely to exceed $20,000. Several other properties on nearby streets were vandalized (see items 3 and 7 below), but the damage to those properties was far less extensive, involving mostly broken windows and demolished mailboxes, the likely victims of mailbox baseball. The police have concluded that different parties were involved in the other reported incidents. ■
From the desk of Sophie Diehl
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET, NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555 (393) 876-5678
* * *
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Criminal Mischief at the Meiklejohn/Durkheims’
Date: June 22, 1999
Attachments: Newspaper Clipping
I am assuming you read yesterday’s police blotter in the Courier. Vandalism at the Durkheim manse. It’s sad, actually (and funny, of course, too—and please don’t give me a lecture; divorce lawyer humor is much more tasteful than criminal lawyer humor). They have a great copper beech that may need to be taken down. The hedge and lawn were torn up, and someone spr
ay-painted anti-doctor graffiti on the house. I just got off the phone with Ms. Meiklejohn. Dr. Durkheim accused her of being behind it. She laughed at him and told him not to make himself ridiculous; “You know damn well that Consigliere Kahn arranged it,” she said, “to make you out the victim. It’s a barefaced Tawana Brawley maneuver.” I don’t think she believes that for one minute, but of course that’s not her point.
I told her that as the owner of the house, she couldn’t be charged with vandalism. I also told her that if she talks to the police, she should tell the truth or not say anything at all. She laughed when I said that. “You think I may have done it, don’t you.” I said, no, I didn’t, but that I thought she was capable of doing it. “Right you are,” she said. We agreed to talk again if the police wanted to interview her.
Vandalism
* * *
From: Mia Meiklejohn
To: Sophie Diehl
Date: Tue, 22 June 1999 15:17:22
Subject: Vandalism 6/22/99 3:17 PM
Dear Sophie—
I hope I have the right email address for you. I finally got myself a Durkheim-less email address. It took ages. Some authoritarian techie said I couldn’t do it without a court-ordered name change. I tried, successively, reason, charm, pathos, insults, and threats, but he didn’t budge. (He had the soul of an immigration officer.) I should have known he wouldn’t respond to threats. No one threatens more than a disgruntled faculty member. His boss finally made the change. And so, eccomi. I had to change my name officially. It made me feel like an imposter, an American ship sailing under Liberian registry.
I didn’t want to bother you on the phone again, but I thought you’d want to know about my follow-up conversation with my asshole husband, the eminent oncologist. He accused me for a second time of orchestrating the vandalism. I couldn’t believe it. I told him that if I’d wanted to wreck the house, I wouldn’t have yielded that pleasure to a third party but would have rented an earth mover and driven the mother through the plate glass window in the library and then taken it for a spin through all the downstairs rooms. Anyway, the asshole called the police and said they should interview me. What was he thinking? Everyone on the force not only knows my father, they live on land he owns. (Do you want to talk patrimony? Here’s the embarrassing bottom line: my father owns 10% + of the real estate in Tyler County—not including churches and church property or Mather U holdings, but including the land beneath Police Headquarters and two miles of shoreline. My father’s approach to land is English; he retains ownership of the land and lets his leaseholders put up the buildings, subject to his approval. His taste is retro conventional. He loves Mather’s Gothic and the colonial churches on the green.) The chief got on the phone and assured him that they would do a complete and thorough investigation; he then asked to speak to me. He was very nice. He said he wanted to speak with both Daniel and me, separately given our domestic rift, to find out if we knew of anyone who might have had a grudge against us or otherwise might have reason to vandalize our property. I said I’d be happy to speak to him or another officer, either at home or at headquarters, but I’d like my lawyer to attend, “given our domestic rift.” He couldn’t have been more agreeable and said I should speak with my lawyer and then call back to schedule a time. He said he’d also schedule a meeting with Daniel and his lawyer, if he wished. I told him Kahn was Daniel’s lawyer. (I don’t know what you know about the mob scene in this part of the world, but Kahn represents Vinnie “the Cod” Massaccio, the capo of eastern Narragansett, in his “business interests,” some of which, I believe, are legal. My father’s done business with Vinnie—which doesn’t prove anything.) “Really,” he responded. “And who’s yours?” When I told him, he laughed. “Sophie Diehl is a pistol,” he said. “I’ll look forward to meeting with the two of you.”
Is there a time you can make it? (See? I was right to hire a criminal lawyer to defend me against Daniel.) I’m flexible these next few days. The only thing I have to do is study for the LSAT. I’m taking a prep course and relearning algebra.
Best,
Mia
MARIA MATHER MEIKLEJOHN
404 ST. CLOUD STREET
NEW SALEM, NA 06556
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Destruction at the Durkheim Residence
Date: June 23, 1999
Attachments:
I got a call this afternoon from Jim Pogodinski. He has a lead on the vandalism at the Durkheims’. He sent one of his officers around to interview their neighbors this morning; one of them noticed a man on Saturday, first sitting in a pickup across the street and then nosing around the property. He took down the license number. The police are running the plate. They’ll keep us posted.
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Destruction at the Durkheim Residence: Culprit ID’ed
Date: June 24, 1999
Attachments:
The police have gotten to the bottom of the vandalism at the Durkheims’. It’s a sad, sad story, and (needless to say?) our client had nothing to do with it. The culprit is Louis Falk, a fireman in the NSFD and a resident of Emsworth, NA. His daughter, Candace, was a patient of Daniel Durkheim’s. She died four weeks ago, on Memorial Day, at age 6. She had been Durkheim’s patient since she was 2 and first diagnosed with a terrible brain cancer, an atypical teratoid rhabdoid tumor (AT/RT). Her prognosis had always been grim, but Durkheim had managed to keep her alive much longer than anyone expected, almost four years. For the last two years, she was undergoing a highly experimental protocol, which Falk’s insurance wouldn’t cover. To pay for the drugs and chemo, he mortgaged his house and maxed out seven credit cards. When she died, he had accumulated debts of over $300,000. He had said nothing about this to Durkheim, only that he could cover the costs and that everything possible should be done for his daughter. Two weeks ago the bank foreclosed on his house. When the police came to question him, he met them on the porch and said, “I did it.” He hasn’t said anything since. His wife is beside herself. They have two other children and nowhere to live. Durkheim feels dreadful, not having known anything about the Falks’ finances. He’s hired a lawyer (not from K&B, but a proper bankruptcy attorney, someone from the Booker firm) to help the Falks sort out their finances and prevent foreclosure. He’s asked the police not to file charges against Falk, on the grounds of Falk’s severe mental distress.
Pogodinski said he couldn’t let Falk go scot-free but would work it out so that he’d only be charged with misdemeanor vandalism. (He told Durkheim that because he—Durkheim—had made such a huge fuss, thinking it was his wife, “the whole damn police force knew about it and expected something to be done.”) Pogo’s also offered to work with Durkheim to see that Falk doesn’t lose his job. (He’s already been in touch with the fire chief and the head of the firefighters’ union; they’re working on a medical leave.) They’re both trying to keep the story out of the Courier. Durkheim may have to ask his wife to talk to the editor about it. (Peter Maple is her cousin.) Pogo said he suggested to Durk-heim that he apologize to her. I haven’t said anything to 3M about this; I’m waiting to see if D2 does it.
Falk used his own pickup to tear up the Durkheims’ grounds; the Hummer was pure fantasy by the reporter writing for the Police Blotter.
THE WHITE HART
Shipton-under-Wychwood
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
>
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Meiklejohn/Durkheim Settlement Conference
Date: July 1, 1999
Attachments:
A meeting has been scheduled with Ms. Meiklejohn, Dr. Durkheim, Kahn, and me to talk settlement. There’s been a slight rapprochement over the Falk crisis. Last Friday, unsolicited, 3M did an intervention with her cousin at the Courier and managed to keep the paper from publishing anything about Falk. Dr. Durkheim did not apologize to his wife for his accusation or thank her for making the call. Instead, he called Maple to express admiration for his “editorial judgment and leadership.” Maple, who reported all to 3M, would have none of it. He told him he had no interest in writing an article which would expose Mather Med to “general obloquy” (his words) and there was no way of writing the article without discussing the cost of the child’s treatment and the Children’s Cancer Center’s complete indifference to the family’s financial plight. “We all know that medical expenses are the second-most common grounds for bankruptcy in this state,” he said. “I didn’t expect that kind of ruthless insensitivity on the part of this community’s hospital. Down the line, we may look at the larger issue and then write a story about the very sick children whose health insurance doesn’t cover their diseases, but we will not write about Falk’s vandalism, now or later. That’s not the crime here.” Durkheim sputtered out a thank-you and hung up. Later that evening, he suggested the four-way meeting to his wife as a way to get things moving.
Setting up a time was almost impossible. Kahn doesn’t keep his own calendar, but he doesn’t allow his secretary to book anything without first consulting him. After two days of back-and-forth, I threw up my hands and told 3M that she’d have to arrange things. I gave her the times I had available. I said we would meet in their offices. (Joe taught me always to offer to go to them. It makes us look obliging, even deferential. But that is not the case. Having it in his office allows us to break it off and walk out. Which I suspect will be the outcome. The Durkheims are not yet ready to deal; they still want to fight.)
