by Tim Kizer
“I'm so glad you are home,” said Josephine after declining Frank’s offer of something to drink. “I thought you might be feeling lonely.”
Frank knitted his eyebrows in order to suppress the smile.
Did she really think her visit brought people happiness and joy?
“We should talk about Kelly,” Josephine went on as Frank led her into the living room. “I believe that the more we talk about Kelly, the quicker you’ll remember what happened to her.”
‘What happened to her?’ That’s new.
“I don’t want to get your hopes too high, Josephine. There is no guarantee I knew what had happened to Kelly,” said Frank, easing onto the sofa. He cast an inquiring look at Josephine, who had taken a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. “I can’t remember what I never knew in the first place.”
“It’s okay, I’ll take whatever pops up in your memory. But I have a hunch you knew more than you think.”
Okay, where were we? The bag had fallen down on the floor, two train tickets had shown up. Tickets for Kelly and her lover? She must have told him: “Honey, leave the tickets to me. You know how disorganized you are.”
Or was it four tickets?
Kelly saw her lover twice a month. After Toledo, they traveled to Cincinnati.
A-ha, you have remembered Cincinnati! Keep it up, mister!
She went to Cincinnati in March. By train.
“I am glad to see you, Josephine, but I’m afraid I have to leave pretty soon,” Frank said finally. “I’m meeting my friends in an hour.”
What the hell did she mean by ‘the quicker you’ll remember what happened to her?’ How the hell was he supposed to know that? Did she mean to say, “The quicker you’ll remember killing your wife?”
“It won't take too much time, Frank. I just wanted to keep you company. You’ve lost Kelly, you’ve lost your daughter.” Josephine paused. “You must be missing them badly.”
Kelly and her lover went to Cincinnati in March. When did he begin spying on her? Did he get on the train that they were on? It sounds like a good idea; most likely he did just that.
“Yes, I am.” Frank nodded hurriedly. “I’m missing them very much. I’m glad you know it, Josephine.”
Toledo, Cincinnati... Schenectady? Yes, Kelly also went to Schenectady. When? Did you see her lover's face?
“I called you an hour ago. Where were you?”
Frank, you should remind her you have to leave soon. Start getting dressed immediately!
“I was taking a shower. I’m sorry, Josephine, but I was about to leave when you came. Can we talk some other time? Maybe tomorrow morning?”
He rose and headed for the stairs.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” remarked Josephine, observing him with cold equanimity.
When did you begin spying on Kelly? In the summer? In the fall? How did you do it?
She traveled to Toledo in February and to Cincinnati in March. And Schenectady? You tracked them down in Schenectady. It happened in the summer, the weather was hot and you sweated like a pig. You saw Kelly and didn't recognize her because she wore a wig. Was it her lover’s idea? The wig was very dark and long while Kelly's own hair was light auburn and short. Did her lover prefer long hair? She looked spectacularly in that wig, he had to give her that.
Are you sure about the wig, buddy? Are you sure it didn’t filter into your memories from one of those Angelina Jolie fantasies?
“Did you remember anything new about Kelly?” Frank heard from the hallway when he was in the bedroom. He froze with jeans in his hands for a moment and then continued getting dressed.
Damn, he had to do this dog and pony show just to get rid of this bitch. How pathetic!
Why would Kelly need a wig if she was hot even without it? Did you see any wigs in her closet?
The Schenectady trip took place in June, she went there by train.
Then there was Utica. You saw them in Utica, you tracked them down twice. First in Schenectady, then in Utica.
“No, I didn't,” Frank shouted. He walked out of the room and found Josephine standing by the stairs and waiting for him patiently.
Think, Frank. You saw the train ticket to Schenectady. You rummaged in Kelly’s bag and discovered those tickets to Schenectady. It happened last June.
“I’m sad to hear that,” said Josephine.
“I remembered that Kelly’s parents were dead. They about two years ago.”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Josephine frowned solemnly. “George and Jane died a year and a half ago.”
“I’m really sorry I have to leave,” said Frank. “I would love to talk to you tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Frank, I understand that you might have lost all hope that she’s alive; nevertheless, we should do our best to find her. All of us love Kelly very much, and we won’t rest until we find her.”
Should he tell her that Kelly had a lover? Stun her?
Frank cracked half a smile as he imagined the grimace on Josephine’s face after she learned about her stepsister’s promiscuous ways. He didn’t hide his smile from Josephine; he was not afraid of this wacky woman.
“Even if she’s dead,” Josephine went on, “we'll find her body. We’d like to bury her properly.”
Bury her properly? Did Josephine just change her tune?
Honestly, Frank was taken aback by the latest wrinkle in Josephine’s mantra. Where had her confidence and optimism gone? Now she would like to properly bury Kelly? Had Josephine Buckhaus actually said these words?
It was great news anyway. He began feeling better about the chances that Josephine would leave him alone someday soon.
Frank opened the entrance door and let Josephine out.
“I haven’t lost the hope,” he said as convincingly as possible. “It’s probably my exhaustion showing. And let’s not talk about burying Kelly so soon. We don’t know that she’s dead.”
Toledo. Cincinnati. Schenectady. And Pittsburgh. And Utica. And that was probably just the tip of the iceberg. Trains, lover, wigs. Just keep thinking about it non-stop, buddy, and maybe more new details will emerge. Toledo, Cincinnati, Schenectady. Visits to a college friend.
“I’m only trying to consider all possibilities,” said Josephine. “If she’s dead, we have to find the body. I can't let Kelly’s body rot in some garbage dump.”
“Let’s think positive, Josephine. I’m sure you don’t seriously believe that Kelly’s dead.”
“I’m a realist. It is possible that she’s dead, we can’t deny that. It may seem strange to you, but I'm not angry with her killer, whoever it was. What's done is done. If Kelly is dead, nothing will bring her back. I’m not looking for vengeance, Frank. All I want is give Kelly a proper burial.”
4.
Toledo, Schenectady, Utica. Kelly wearing a wig and sunglasses.
And there’s also this tricky question, buddy: if they believe you murdered Kelly, why are they so hell-bent on finding her body? What is so special about it? And please don’t mention that crap about a proper burial.
“Peter Warner,” Frank said with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Short hair and apelike ears.”
Marilyn rose from the chair and sat down on the bed next to Frank. They were in a Holiday Inn hotel room, which Frank had rented at Marilyn’s request: for the sake of the peace of mind, she had decided to stay away from her apartment and from Frank’s house for the next few days. And she planned to call in sick at the office while she was in hiding just in case Peter Warner—or whatever his real name was—knew where she worked.
“He is very strong. He could have easily broken my neck if he’d wanted to,” Marilyn said. “I’m sure Peter Warner is not his real name.”
Frank nodded.
“I think it's one of my wife's relatives,” he said. “Her cousin Graham has apelike ears. And he’s a big guy, too.”
Yes, Kelly had put on the wig and sunglasses to change her appearance, but if you h
ad known a woman for five years, chances were you would be able to recognize her in this unsophisticated disguise.
“Her cousin? Yeah, it makes sense. That explains why he was so worked up about your wife.”
Kelly had gone to Schenectady in June. Two months later, to Utica. He’d tracked her down to Schenectady and Utica. Actually, she’d gone to Utica twice. She had traveled on weekends. She’d met several men. That’s how he remembered it.
“Her relatives are crazy,” said Frank. He wrapped his right arm around Marilyn’s shoulders. “They think I killed Kelly. How insane is that?”
“Did they actually say it to your face?”
Frank shook his head.
“Not yet. But it’s just a matter of time, I guess. They are not very shy as you can see.”
“They are definitely something else.” Marilyn breathed a sigh. “This cousin of hers scared the living hell out of me.”
“Now these idiots believe they have proof I killed her, not that they needed any.”
“How did they find out about me?”
“They must have been watching my house. I think her brother is renting a place in my neighborhood to spy on me.”
“He is? It sounds creepy.”
“Funny thing is, Kelly’s probably having fun with her lover somewhere in the Caribbean right now.”
“Kelly has a lover? How do you know that?”
“I remembered that she’s been cheating on me for a while. Actually, she could be cheating with more than one guy.”
“What makes you think that she’s with her lover?” Marilyn gave Frank an inquiring look. “Do you find it hard to believe that she was killed by some psycho?”
“I think it’s possible that she’s with her lover, that’s all. Honestly, I just want her family to leave me alone. Did I tell you about her lovers before the car crash?”
Marilyn fell to thinking for several seconds, then shook her head, and said, “No, you didn’t. I would have remembered something like that. And how did you find out she cheated on you? Did you catch her in bed with another guy?”
“I’m still not sure how it happened. I know it will come to me sooner or later.”
Marilyn knitted her brows and said, “Well, I guess it’s possible.” She got up and walked to the window. “So what are we going to do about Warner? I mean Kelly’s cousin? What should I tell him when he calls?”
Schenectady, Utica. The train tickets to Schenectady and Utica.
“Tell him that you couldn’t make me talk. That I keep silent, that I avoid this topic; something along these lines.”
“And what if he doesn't leave me alone? He looks like a beast, Frank. He’ll break my neck without a second thought! Have you ever seen his hands?”
Up until this moment, Frank had seriously considered telling Marilyn that Graham was a cop. Now he had decided to postpone this revelation for a couple more days so as not to throw her in a tizzy.
“Come on, Marilyn, you are exaggerating. He’s not going to kill you. He’d go to jail if he did. He knows that I'll report him to the police if he touches you, and I’m sure he’d hate to go to jail because of his cousin.”
“Easy for you to say. It's not your neck on the line.” Marilyn poured herself a glass of water. “Besides, he could kill you, too, just to shut you up.”
“We can protect ourselves, Marilyn. I'm sick and tired of these people, to tell you the truth. I wouldn’t shed a tear if all of them died in a plane crash one fine day.”
He had tracked Kelly down more than twice. He might have photographed her. Where could those photos be now? Lost? Locked in a safe? In a bank deposit box?
Did he have a camera? He would have needed an expensive camera to take good quality pictures from distance. He did own a camera, by the way. He’d seen it in one of the drawers in the study. There was a high probability that he had actually photographed Kelly and her lovers.
“Damn, these morons are even more insane than I thought,” said Frank.
“They are dangerous. I probably should get a gun, just in case.”
“They actually spied on me. These idiots had nothing better to do but to spy on me.”
“What other relatives does your wife have? That sister who keeps nagging at you and wants you to see a psychiatrist, what’s her name?”
“Josephine.” Frank lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. “To hell with all of them. Do you have any relatives or friends that don’t live in Buffalo?”
“My cousin lives in Penn Hills. It's about two hundred miles south of here.”
“If you're afraid of Graham, you could stay with your sister for a while. Where do your parents live?”
“In Philadelphia.”
“Well, you have at least two places to hide.”
“How can you be so calm?” Marilyn lightly shoved him in the shoulder. Frank chortled and shrugged.
“You know, some moron tried to blackmail me,” he said. “I met with him this morning.”
Schenectady, Utica. Kelly wearing a long wig and sunglasses. They had gotten in some ordinary car whose model Frank didn’t recall.
“Blackmail you?”
Schenectady. She and her lover got in a dark car and zoomed away. And what did you do? Shadow them?
“To hell with him.” Frank breathed a sigh.
“That’s why you turned off your phone this morning? How did he blackmail you?”
Kelly and her lover drove for a long time, keeping their speed just a couple of miles above the posted limit. They seemed to be headed west. They reached Pattersonville and still kept moving. They went very far away from Pattersonville.
The whole thing began to look very odd.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Frank. He glanced at his watch. 5:03. In only two and a half hours he had managed to dig out eight months worth of memories. Quite an achievement!
“If you hadn't met that guy, you would have taken my call and there would have been no kidnapping. Tell me about this jerk. What did he want from you?”
“Money of course.”
As they crossed the Amsterdam city limits, the cab driver pointed at the meter and remarked that the ride was getting expensive. Frank showed him a bunch of twenty dollar bills, offering him some peace of mind.
Schenectady. Pattersonville. Amsterdam. Kelly with the lover in the dark car. What was their end destination?
These memories. They were oozing out.
“What did he blackmail you about?”
“He said he’d seen me carry Kelly’s body out of the house. He said he would rat me out to the police if I didn’t pay.”
“How much did he ask for?”
Ten miles later, when they had passed Fultonville, the cab driver suggested that Kelly and her lover were probably headed for Utica or Syracuse. His guess sounded reasonable to Frank.
“Twenty grand. He thought I was easy to scare. But he only amused me.”
Kelly traveled to Schenectady by train; Frank saw her get off the car with some guy wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sunglasses. He was able to observe his wife because he was hiding in the passenger car next to hers. Kelly and that guy were holding hands as they crossed the platform; they headed for the parking lot where a dark sedan was waiting for them. Frank got in the cab and ordered the driver to follow that car, just like they do in movies.
“How he did know about you? From the newspapers? I saw your wife's picture in The Buffalo News missing persons section a week ago.”
“I have no clue, and I don’t really care.” Frank shrugged his shoulders.
He followed them to Monroe, realized that their end destination could be hundreds of miles away, asked the cabdriver to turn around, and went to Schenectady, where he rented a car. Six hours later he arrived in Buffalo. Kelly came home the next evening.
Where are their photos? Or you didn't take photos?
He tracked them down more than twice. The first attempt was a bust, Kelly and her lover traveled too far, and it would have been stupid to
follow them in a cab: sooner or later they would have noticed the tail. It could have cost a fortune, too. Her lover appeared to be in his late twenties and didn’t create the impression of a wealthy person.
“I think this blackmailer is an idiot,” said Marilyn. “He’s not playing his cards right. He shouldn’t have said he’d seen you carry the body out of the house. What if you cut the body into pieces and put them in duffel bags?”
“You make a good point, Marilyn.”
That’s right, buddy. You could have cut Kelly into a dozen chunks. She weighed about one hundred and forty pounds, so each piece would have scaled roughly twelve pounds. If you had smuggled four pieces a day, you would have taken the whole body out of the house in just three days.
But you’ve digressed, Frank. Or is it one of those lunatic theory breaks you’ve been enjoying so much lately?
The killer could have tossed Kelly’s body parts in the lake. But he would have had to chop off the fingers first so that the police couldn’t identify the victim by fingerprints. And extract all teeth. And disfigure the face.
It makes sense, pal. You need to cover all bases when you deal with a murder. Teeth stay in the skull for centuries; therefore, they should be removed, with pliers, for example. Then you should throw them as far away from your house as possible. How about the Niagara River? You could drop the fingers in it, too.
Bluth was just fishing in the hope of accidentally stumbling upon some dark secret. There was no corpse; therefore, there could be no basis for successful blackmail. Kelly was alive, and he would find her sooner or later. Once he remembered her lover, he would track them down and put an end to this charade.
And still: what the hell was so special about Kelly’s corpse?
5.
When they were about to leave the hotel for a restaurant, Frank had another small breakthrough. As Marilyn checked her text messages, she suddenly remembered that she had taken a picture of Peter Warner with her phone and offered to show it to Frank. The photo albums on Marilyn’s cell turned out to be disorganized, and they had to go through a dozen of her personal pictures before bumping into the kidnapper’s snapshot, which, honestly, was of little use: all you could see was a blurry image of a Ford Explorer moving through a parking lot.
