by Rita Lakin
I have no choice but to do his bidding. I feel awful. He’s going to look for her pill bottle.
Morrie gets up from the table. His plate is empty. As is his glass. Jack did almost as well with his meal. I haven’t touched a bite.
“Shall we go?” he asks me.
I get up, start to clear the table, then at Jack’s knowing look, I stop stalling and head for the door.
As we go out onto the walkway, Morrie says, “Thank you for the lovely lunch, Stepmom.”
I smile grimly. I feel like a traitor.
Morrie looks me straight in the eye. “Please don’t inform her of anything I told you earlier.”
Of course I know that and he knows I do. But he wants my assurance. I nod my head in agreement.
Again I knock at Arlene’s door. I’m not happy having to do this. She looks better this time, showered, dressed, made up, and hair combed. That’s a relief. She smiles seeing me, but the smile fades quickly when she sees Morrie.
And two other policemen who’ve been waiting outside the door.
Morrie turns to Arlene. “Mrs. Simon, I’m Detective Morgan Langford and I’d like permission to search your apartment.”
She looks at me, defeated. “Because I said those terrible things to Joyce?”
“Something like that,” he answers.
“But why? The woman had a heart attack—”
He interrupts. “No, it wasn’t a heart attack.”
“I don’t understand why you want to search my apartment. I didn’t do anything.”
She looks to me for guidance. I say hopefully, “Then they won’t find anything that could hurt you.”
She looks up defiantly at Morrie. “Go ahead. I have nothing to hide.”
“Thank you,” Morrie says.
“Just try not to make a mess,” she says sweetly.
I walk out the door with Arlene. Morrie beckons and the two policemen enter. Jack is allowed to stay behind.
Arlene is shaking and I have my fingers crossed.
We wait at Evvie’s apartment. Strangely, now I’m hungry, but it’s nervous hunger, and I snack on the cheese and crackers she’s brought out for us.
Of course Arlene can’t eat a thing. She’s frightened and angry at the same time.
She says, “Because I hate her they assume, what? That I would kill her? That’s preposterous!”
I am so anxious that I’m not allowed to mention the cancer. I can barely stay still. The word sticks gluelike in my mouth.
Evvie keeps glancing at me. She knows I know something but I can’t tell her in front of Arlene.
We sit silently for a few minutes. Arlene begins to cry. “I have to tell you what has been going on since Joyce found me.”
Evvie and I exchange glances. She can see that something is worrying me. Later, we signal each other.
Arlene paces. “All you ever saw of me was my shouting at her and telling her I hated her and wished she was dead. But you didn’t know what she was doing to me. I meant it in the kitchen class when I said she was stalking me.”
Evvie says, “Arlene, dear. Joyce’s coming into your life has been very upsetting for you. Are you sure you weren’t distorting things?”
Arlene smiles grimly. “In front of you she played the poor misunderstood friend who only wanted forgiveness, but late at night that woman would creep into my apartment and wake me up. Every night. Very, very late to make sure nobody saw her come in. Eventually I couldn’t fall asleep at all knowing she’d come in.”
Evvie asks, “How could she do that?”
“She had a key. I don’t know how she got it. I swear to you I’m not imagining any of this.”
I ask, “What did she want?”
“I don’t know!”
Evvie continues to go along with this, even though I can see the disbelief in her eyes. “What did she say to you?”
“Horrible things. Vicious things. It was so strange. She hated me even more than I hated her. She blamed me for her marriage to Edward being a failure. She was blaming me for everything that went wrong in her life. She would sit on my bed and torment me about her sex life with Edward. She called me filthy names. If I got out of the bed, she followed me. She terrified me.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this sooner?” I ask.
She stares up at the both of us, sadly. “Because I felt threatened. She said she would hurt me if I told anybody anything. And I believed her.” She pauses. “I think she was crazy.”
Oh, poor Arlene. She will be the one they think is mad if she tells this story to the police. It will be her word against Joyce’s. If it seems unbelievable to us, how will strangers react?
Evvie says, “Even if we believe now that Joyce didn’t accidentally move here. That she found you and then trailed Seymour in order to get his apartment; why do you think she would do this?”
“Not to ask my forgiveness. To torture me, that’s what.”
So much for my guess that Joyce wanted to make up with her before she died.
I think of her body being consumed with cancer, deciding to find Arlene and then doing what Arlene says she did. Could the cancer have affected her brain? Could that, plus the morphine, literally make Joyce insane? Otherwise, her tormenting an old friend doesn’t make sense.
There is a knock on the door. Morrie and Jack enter, leaving the two cops outside.
Evvie and I look up with trepidation. They are not smiling.
Arlene sits down, holding on to the arms of the chair. Her body goes rigid at the sight of their serious faces.
Morrie holds up a small plastic medicine container in a glassine evidence bag. “Are these your pills?” he asks Arlene.
She peers at them closely. “Yes. Valium. I took them for my nerves. Gladdy suggested I should get some. I did.”
I hang my head. How much guilt can a person stand?
Morrie waves the bag. “Then can you explain why the bottle is empty?” He upends the bag to indicate it is indeed empty.
Arlene looks surprised. “That’s odd. But I only used a few. I really don’t like to overuse pills like that.”
I look at Jack and he shakes his head.
Morrie then takes out another evidence bag. “Is this yours?” He holds out the Chai necklace we’ve seen before.
Arlene says, “Yes, it is—” Then she suddenly reaches up to her neck and feels for her own necklace. It’s there. She looks confused. “I don’t understand …”
Morrie says, “I suspect this one belongs to Mrs. Steiner. I believe she’s the only one around here that has the exact same necklace as yours. We found it in one of your dresser drawers covered in a scarf. A necklace and scarf that belonged to Mrs. Steiner.”
Arlene is horrified. “Then she put it there. I didn’t!”
“How could she do that?”
“She had a key to my apartment.” She looks at me to help. But I know I mustn’t interrupt.
“The only keys we found in Mrs. Steiner’s apartment belonged to Mrs. Steiner.”
“You have to believe me …”
It’s obvious he doesn’t.
Morrie continues. “Have you ever been in Joyce’s apartment?”
“No, never …”
I hold my breath. She’s going to be caught in a lie.
“Then if we take your fingerprints, they won’t show up on a glass of water you drank in her kitchen. Right next to the slice of pie that you brought for her to eat—filled with your pills all ground up.”
Arlene jumps up, sobbing. “All right. I went there that night because she said she was leaving. She found another place, and wanted to apologize and say goodbye. I was so desperate to believe it, I went downstairs.”
Morrie comments, “She gave you a glass of water.”
“Yes, I only sipped it. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. She lied again. She had no intention of leaving.”
She stands up, unable to sit a moment longer. She cries out, “I didn’t bring any pie. I didn’t put any pill
s in the pie. I didn’t kill her!”
There is silence for a few moments as she stands there shaking.
Surprisingly Morrie turns to me. There’s a funny expression on his face. I’m trying to read it, but I can’t. It’s as if he’s warning me about something.
I look closely at Morrie. His eyes are sad.
He turns back to Arlene.
“You knew, didn’t you, about her having cancer?”
He waits and I shudder. He was asking me to understand that sometimes a cop has to be cruel. I can’t bear to watch him.
Arlene staggers, holding on to the arm of the couch. “What are you talking about?”
Morrie says in a low voice, “You knew she was going to die very soon. Couldn’t you have waited?”
Arlene looks terrified, like someone trapped in a nightmare.
I tremble when Morrie says, “Arlene Simon, you are under arrest for the murder of Joyce Steiner …”
As he starts to recite the Miranda, Arlene faints.
Why am I surprised? There is a huge crowd waiting outside Evvie’s building. The word has spread like wildfire. Joyce is dead and they’re bringing Arlene down to take her off to jail. Thank goodness Morrie listened to me when I begged him not to put the handcuffs on. Arlene is in enough pain. And he was so kind about letting her rest awhile after she recovered from fainting.
I walk out of the apartment with Jack and Evvie. We stand aside on the third-floor landing to let them get past us. Morrie and his cop assistant leave with Arlene being held by the arm by Morrie.
I look below and recognize the crowd. Most of Phase Two and Three are there. Of course the girls are in the group, their faces reflecting their feeling very sorry for poor Arlene. My eye is caught by Leah, standing on the fringe. She looks like she’s in shock as she watches what is going on.
When they reach the ground floor there’s a collective groan among the watchers. Then silence. Everyone stares. Poor Arlene. She looks totally defeated. The fight is gone out of her. She glances back up to where we’re standing and I see such sadness there. Then her head bows down. She doesn’t want to look at anyone else.
It’s like a bad scene out of any of the many cop shows on TV with Morrie making sure her head won’t hit the police car roof. It’s chilling to see Arlene behind the locked security screen, already looking like she’s behind bars.
They drive off.
Then everyone talks at once.
By the time the three of us get downstairs, there’s a ruckus going on.
They’ve almost separated into two camps, or so it seems. One group, the women minus one from the kitchen class. And Leah. With others from Phase Three behind them.
Our side, Sophie, Bella and Ida, and many Phase Two regulars: Tessie and Sol, Irving and Mary, Lola and Hy. Lola clutches her husband’s arm.
And the body language is easy to read.
Fatima, our red-hatter, is angry. Arms folded. “We were there. We heard her threaten Joyce.”
Elaine, her friend, adds, hands on hips, “Standing there with a knife, ready to kill her there and then.”
Hy is a sight to be seen as he stands legs spread, fists raised, reminding me of a bantam cock fighter. “Who are you to judge? That’s what we have courts for.”
“Yeah,” adds Lola. “And juries of her peers.”
Elaine says, “You’ve all seen her. At the pool. At our kitchen class. Just getting weirder and weirder. She’s a nutcase.”
Tessie pipes up, “She didn’t get nutty until Joyce showed up.”
Another voice in the crowd: “Oh, please. She’s the ice maiden. With her nose stuck up in the air.”
One of the male Canadian guests says, “That’s not true. Arlene was always a lady. A very nice lady.”
First time I’ve ever seen any of our snowbirds get involved in our affairs. Bless them.
“Oh, really?” someone else shouts out. “She was very snooty. With her fancy clothes and fancy high heels. She thought she was better than us. Who did she think she was anyway?”
Tessie snarls, “You’re just jealous, you old hags! You only wish you could look as good as she does at her age!”
Hy raises himself up to his full five feet. “I don’t care what you think about her or what you saw or think you know; this is still a free country!”
Sol gets into the act. He places himself right behind Hy. “Damn straight!”
Fatima shouts, “Yeah, and I’m free to be a witness at her trial. I know what I saw and what I heard!”
Frances Tarvin, a tough-looking woman from the kitchen group, steps forward, invading Hy’s space. He doesn’t move an inch. “She’s a murderer and she ain’t gonna get away with it!”
Hy is not one to be pushed around, especially by a woman. He reaches over and gently pushes her face away from his. Frances sends a fast fist out to punch him. He ducks. She hits Sol instead.
Sol says, “Ouch.”
His wife, Tessie, that plus-size dynamo, elbows pointed out in weapon mode, goes head to head with the aggressive Frances for revenge.
A couple of the other Phase Three residents drag their belligerent neighbor away amid cheering and booing. Depending on which side they’re on.
The Phase Two group pulls on Tessie.
Hy is on a roll. He shouts above the hubbub, “In this fine country we live in, You. Are. Innocent. Until proven guilty!”
Lola hugs him. “My hero.”
Hy always manages to surprise us. I forgive him for all the bad jokes.
People leave. Much mumbling and grumbling. Dinners are waiting. The drama is over. For now.
It will boil down to what I’ve been afraid of. It will be Joyce’s word against Arlene’s. Wait until the news leaks out about Joyce dying of cancer. All sympathy will shift to her. Being dead trumps being alive. We’ve got to do something to prove Arlene’s innocence, and fast.
Morrie sits behind his desk. Jack and I sit in the two halfway comfortable low chairs in front of him. Though Morrie and Jack are equally tall, Morrie’s desk chair is a lot more comfortable than the one Jack is in.
Forget that we’re family. This is police headquarters and we are here on serious business. We report on that frightening crowd scene that took place after Morrie carried Arlene away. “And it’s been like that for days now. That’s all everyone talks about and thinks about. And has opinions about.”
Jack comments, too. “And our opinion is that knowing Arlene, we still find it hard to believe she could commit murder.”
I reach over and take his hand.
“All right,” Morrie says to us, being sympathetic.
“I appreciate that you like the woman. But I have to deal with the facts in this situation. At this time everything points to Arlene as having killed Joyce Steiner.”
I have to ask, “But aren’t you even going to try to find out if anyone else could have killed her?”
Morrie is sorry. “We believe we already have the right person.”
I try another tack. “But what about Seymour? How does he fit in?”
Jack concurs. “We were hired by Leah to find her brother and she still expects us to do the job. We’re sure that Joyce knew where he was.”
Morrie says, “Look, there’s nothing wrong with citizen help. Especially from the two of you. In fact, I can easily make Dad a consultant due to his having been a police detective. Which means he gets to sit in on all meetings.”
“Fine with me,” Jack says, crossing and uncrossing his long legs trying to get comfortable in his chair.
Morrie says, “You and your group of lady PIs can continue to investigate. As long as you share whatever you find.” He smiles. “Just don’t make me look like a dope if you solve the case before I do.”
We smile. Feeling more relaxed now.
I add, “As long as you share with us.”
“Dad is free to divulge whatever comes up in my meetings unless I inform him that there is a very good reason not to. Fair enough?”
�
�Yes.”
“One way you both can help your case and mine is to find out anything else you can about Joyce. Her purse revealed nothing. She had a cellphone with no contact list on it. Surely she had a lawyer to handle her affairs or maybe someone as executor of a will. Interesting, though, we couldn’t even find her driver’s license. Or any kind of papers in her car.”
“That’s another thing,” I say. “Doesn’t that show that someone is getting ready to kill themselves, by cleaning the slate, so to speak?”
“Maybe so, but there’s too much evidence that confirms it was murder. ”
Jack tries again. “Maybe she got rid of everything so you wouldn’t be able to learn the truth about her.”
“But what truth?” Morrie asks.
“We’re definitely going to find out,” Jack promises.
I ask hopefully, “Is there any chance Arlene would be allowed out on bail?”
He shrugs. “Depends on the judge. Most judges would not set bail on a murder case. And besides, the fact that she has relatives living in New York and Chicago, he might see her as a flight risk and could set any bail at an impossible amount.”
Not good. Not good at all. I can’t imagine how to help her with that. I watch Jack get up to walk around a bit to relax his cramped leg muscles.
“Can I pace with you?” I ask him.
“Sure, why not.”
Morrie says, “Arlene still hasn’t picked a lawyer. She keeps interviewing and turning them away. She needs to do it as soon as possible.”
Jack says, “We’ll talk to her and see if we can help.”
Morrie gets up and walks toward the door. “Take a five-minute break. I need to see someone down the hall for a moment.”
We stretch when he leaves.
I look at Jack in despair. “But if she isn’t allowed to go home! How long can they keep her there? That’s awful.”
“I know, but let’s keep calm and take things one at a time. Everything will work out.”
“Yes, but how will it end for poor Arlene?”
He puts his arms around me and hugs me. “We will do all we can. Besides, we’re an unbeatable team. Right?”
