Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 03 - The Recorder's Way

by Rohn Federbush

  Four children and a babe in arms accompanied Captain Tedler’s brother and his wife from Missouri for the memorial service; Helen heard them apologize to Julia for not attending the brunch. Their ride home would take six hours due to weekend traffic.

  Two older men in wheel chairs, an enormous man and his grim-faced wife, a slim fellow with a pronounced limp, another fuzzyheaded elderly man with two grown sons, and a white-haired man from India and his blonde wife added to the gathering, which nearly filled the University’s art gallery.

  Helen checked the guest register after a group of ten, black-suited men signed the book. Gilbert Commonwealth was written after their names. Apparently, they were fellow workers from Sally’s past. Helen realized to her, most of Sally Bianco’s life was a blank slate compared to the stories the assembled mourners could reveal. Arizona, Florida, Louisiana, Missouri, Montana, Washington and Wisconsin sent more than a hundred grieving guests to Mrs. Bianco’s funeral service.

  Andrew leaned over Helen’s shoulder to read the book. “Sally kept in contact with people involved in the various cases she worked on.”

  “I hadn’t realized the full extent of her friendships,” Max said.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  Costello Home

  At home after checking on the caterer, Helen found Max leaning against the wall in a corner of the living room, taking notes. Because of his height, his head practically touched the ceiling. They would need a bigger house, higher ceilings, at least. What was she thinking? Helen shook her head to stop her speculations. “What are you doing? This is a funeral, Max, not part of our investigation.”

  Max put away his notebook. “I was counting. Sally’s journal said she needed to make amends to sixty people.”

  “Mrs. Bianco’s friends, these people, are not attending the funeral of someone who injured them. Most of them are probably from AA.”

  “True.” Max’s hand strayed to his curls. “I thought maybe sixty were old lovers.”

  Helen pulled him by the hand into the backyard. The birds were singing away. She needed to tug on his arm to get his attention away from the birds’ romantic melodies. “Sally Bianco was a moral person.”

  “Maybe not while she was drinking.” Max loosened his tie. “Remember your dad’s theory about the sixties when the birth control pill was available – before the AIDS epidemic arrived?”

  “Sally Bianco possessed too much self-esteem to be promiscuous.”

  Max shook his head, like a dog with a bone. “I’ve been calculating various breakdowns of the number. Sixty. If she was thirty when she was first divorced and has only been sober for five years, sixty breaks down to a minimum of two lovers a year. And, wasn’t she married a few times, too?”

  “I think a couple of her husbands attended the service. Just drop the subject, Max. It’s not appropriate at a funeral,” Helen said. “Besides I’m sure her Higher Power has forgiven her for using people to salve her ego.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Is that what you think I did?” Max’s mouth watered. Helen’s perfume, Chanel No. 5, caused him to anticipate his next breath of scented air.

  “You tried to fill the empty space left by your parents,” Helen said. “I’m proud of you loving and trusting Maybell. You changed before my eyes. I think she was wrong to use you.”

  “I have forgiven her.” Max opened a folding chair, sat down and rubbed the arms of the chair.

  “You’re a very loving person, Max.”

  The hemline of Helen’s black dress was inches away from Max’s fingertips. He stood, tapped the top of Helen’s head, then wound his arm around her midriff. “We should not get involved, sexually. While we’re partners.”

  Helen pushed him away. “What makes you think …?”

  George Clemmons called to her from the back door. “Helen, is your ornery partner bothering you?” Helen laughed, perhaps too hysterically for the occasion. George was slimmer and shorter than Max. “Unless my sister invites your attentions, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

  Max attempted to shove the guy who was standing way too close to him. “Your newly recognized half-sister knows how to handle herself.”

  “While I’m around, Helen can count on me.” George didn’t give an inch of turf. “What are you going to do stomp me into the ground?”

  “Easier than stepping on a bug.” Max spat out the words.

  “Max, stop it.” Helen tried to wave him off. “Go in and see if Mother needs any help with the caterer.”

  Max let go of George’s shoulders and stormed off.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  George dusted himself off. “Did you need to hire a goniff for your agency?”

  “He’s a sweet guy, with lots of problems.”

  “No doubt.” George looked around their beautiful yard. Her brother inhaled the scents from the flowering trees deeply, as if to calm down. “Nevertheless, I would avoid being alone with him.”

  “Really?” Helen felt she’d been given the best compliment she’d received in years.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  Second Monday in May, 2008

  Ann Arbor Police Station

  Captain Tedler was pacing around his desk when Helen and Max arrived. “Andrew said you have something for us.” Max folded his sunglasses and sat down at one of the two chairs facing the Captain’s desk.

  “I have.” Seemingly relieved, Captain Tedler collapsed into his chair. “Beautiful day?”

  Helen continued standing, as if preparing herself for worse news. Max wondered if he touched the shoulder of her white blouse if he would feel the warmth from her body. Captain Tedler waved for Helen to sit and didn’t speak until she did. Helen placed her hand on Max’s arm.

  “We found Sally’s Honda.” Captain Tedler consulted the notes on his desk. “It was abandoned in the surf in Cape May, New Jersey.”

  Max stood up. “I’ll go.” Mostly, Max needed to move away from Helen’s hand on his arm. His body’s early warning system let him know his interest in this slip of a girl was not abating. Helen shook her head in disagreement.

  “Sorry I couldn’t come to the house after Sally Bianco’s service.” Captain Tedler seemed to think Helen’s gesture was in censure. “We’ve been busy around here.”

  Helen asked, “Did you find out anything more about what transpired at Portage Lake?”

  “We found a yellow dog whose fur matches the fur in Mrs. Bianco’s hands.” Captain Tedler swiped at what might have been angry tears on his face.

  “Did he have rabies?” Max asked.

  “No, we checked. The Humane Shelter put him down, after he tried to attack one of the Waterloo rangers.”

  “I’ll fly to Cape May,” Helen said.

  “I should go with you.” Max knew she should go, but he didn’t want to be without her. Captain Tedler shook his head no. Max felt confused.

  First Helen’s half-brother took an instant dislike to him, and now Captain Tedler appeared distrustful. Max hadn’t demanded to go with Helen because of the likelihood something untoward would happen between them. He worried about how to continue a working relationship with a woman he obviously intended to know better. With the hope of a reprieve, he admitted to God his fixation was not entirely honorable.

  Max suggested an alternate agenda to the Captain, “The file clerk from St. Anthony’s Hospital should be brought in for formal questioning. She gave us two more files connected to Sally’s investigation.”

  “What investigation?” Captain Tedler pounded the desk with his fist. “What investigation?”

  “Mrs. Bianco told us three doctors were involved in deaths at St. Anthony’s Hospital, in 1990.” Helen’s voice was apologetic. “I thought you knew. My father obtained a warrant to search ….”

  “Not through this office! And you didn’t bother to inform us when we found Sally’s body?” Captain Tedler’s face resembled bright hamburger before fire darkened it. He tapped the holster of his gun.

 
; “Have you found a Marilyn Helms? She’s the owner of a dog called Rufus.”

  Captain Tedler tore pages out of his notebook. “The shelter said the dog’s tag had his name on it. Here it is. Rufus!” Tedler lifted his telephone. “We need an extradition order for a Marilyn Helms now visiting in Cape May, New Jersey. And bring in … “He held the phone away from his ear. “What’s the file clerk’s name?”

  “Sharon Daley,” Max said.

  “Sharon Daley, St. Anthony’s Hospital.” Captain Tedler hung up the phone. His face was not yet its normal color. “Do you realize you jeopardized Sally’s life by not coming forward with this information?”

  Helen tried to calm him down. “You’re upset about losing your friend, but Sally was probably killed Sunday afternoon. We didn’t know she was involved in a case until Monday morning. By Wednesday, Andrew had called you to look for her car, because she was missing.” Helen stood. “Max, it could take days before the extradition process succeeds in bringing Marilyn Helms here. I knew Sally Bianco longer than you. Let me do this for her.”

  Max wanted to hug her out of relief. She could handle herself like a pro. She backed Captain Tedler down without insulting him. At least there would be no question of sharing a motel with her. He’d be in Michigan and she’d be safe in New Jersey. He would decide how to handle his attraction while she was gone. “Don’t tell her about her dog’s death until you need to.”

  “Before you go,” Captain Tedler said, “Who are the other two doctors?”

  “Show him the files, Max,” Helen said. “I’m going to call Sister James Marine. She wants to help with Marilyn. Dad will drive us to the airport.”

  Captain Tedler was rummaging in his desk. Max told Helen to wait a moment. He watched as Captain Tedler presented her with a deputy’s badge.

  “You’re right. I personally miss Sally.” Captain Tedler shook her hand. “This badge will help you get clearance to question Marilyn. I know your father’s taught you enough about police procedures not to mess up any case against the girl.”

  Max felt his chest expand with pride. This was his partner. Nice to know someone else appreciated her as a first-rate detective. But, he wasn’t going to kiss her goodbye in front of Captain Tedler. Too risky, even in private, now.

  “Helen interview Sharon with me,” Max said. “Then we’ll make a threesome attack on Marilyn Helms in Cape May after we nail down a few more facts about the deaths.”

  Helen held out her hand to Captain Tedler. “Max needs a badge too.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  Second Monday in May, 2008

  Ann Arbor Police Station

  Captain Tedler ordered lunch, which arrived simultaneously with Sharon Daley from St. Anthony’s Hospital. Max offered to talk to the young woman. Captain Tedler sized him up. “Yep, girls go for you big guys.”

  Helen played with her salad, not meeting Max’s glance.

  “You just want your lunch.” Max slapped a bit of hot mustard on his roast beef on rye and took a bite, before walking into the interrogation room. Sharon was one of those hefty women who didn’t attract many men. Her perfume was innocent enough, lilac. Max got right to the point, so she wouldn’t miss too many work hours. “Do you know where Marilyn Helms might be staying in Cape May?”

  “Yes. I visited her grandmother with her in Cape May.” Sharon scratched the back of her head. “She lives in a purple Victorian bed-and-breakfast facing the ocean.”

  “Address?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  Max nodded at the two-way mirror. He knew Captain Tedler or Helen would be relaying Marilyn’s position to the Cape May police. “Were you aware that Marilyn was blackmailing three doctors?”

  Sharon clicked her tongue. “Will I get in trouble for not going to the police?”

  “Not if you tell us everything you know.” Max wasn’t sure she couldn’t be prosecuted, but he needed information.

  “Not directly through Marilyn, but a waitress at the City Club knows a woman who doesn’t like one of the doctors involved.”

  “Which doctor is that?”

  “Dr. Dorothy Whidbey.”

  “Charley Klondike’s doctor.” Max remembered the file. “What is the woman’s name who’s not keen on Dr. Whidbey?”

  “Mary Livingston. She knows about Charley’s death, too. Hepatic coma. Marilyn and I thought he was sleeping after the D.T.’s. He looked exhausted; his hands slumped down to his sides. I learned too late the hands were the clue. He was very near death. I doubt that Dr. Whidbey would have bothered to visit him anyway.”

  “And the other doctors?”

  “Larry Schneider’s.” Sharon clutched her purse to her chest. “That would be Dr. Handler. He’s a tricky one. I doubt you’ll be able to pin anything on him.”

  “And one died?”

  “Dr. Cornell. Jean Bacon’s doctor. I don’t know why he paid Marilyn. Diabetes is a tricky business. I wonder if her file still includes the notes I made about how the disease was slowly eating away her fat. She deflated while we watched. Jean probably couldn’t have been saved if Dr. Cornell had lived at her bedside.” Sharon brushed dandruff from her sweater.

  “Three died in one night?” Max asked to make sure he had gleaned all the details from the nurse.

  “Marilyn went a little mad, I think.” Sharon choked up. “Can I go home now?”

  “Let me check.” Max stood. “You have been very helpful.”

  “I can see why Helen Costello chose you for her partner.”

  Max placed his hand on the doorknob, grinned at the mirror, where he hoped Helen was smiling back.

  “She’s a lucky girl.” Sharon said.

  “Thanks.” Max flashed his rehearsed smile before leaving. As Max walked down the hall from the witness room, he wondered if he should explain his relationship with Helen Costello to Captain Tedler. What could the Captain say in response? Max barely understood his feelings for his partner, didn’t know if he could find the right words to express them to Captain Tedler. He wasn’t in love, was he?

  Chapter Seven

  “He rained flesh upon them as dust, and feathered fowls like the sand of the sea: And he let it fall in the midst of their camp, round about their habitation. So they did eat, and were well filled. For he gave them their own desire: They were not estranged from their lust…” Psalm 78:27-30

  Second Tuesday in May, 2008

  Cape May

  Chatting with Sister James Marine and Max made Helen’s trip from the Newark airport to Cape May almost enjoyable, even in the rain. She relaxed in the passenger’s seat as Max drove down the long, forested peninsula. The proud trees had watched more than one President of the United States pass by their shadows. Cape May was the Camp David for presidents for over a century. Towards the east were glimpses of the ocean’s whitecaps while the calm bay on the west side of the car could be seen through breaks in the tree line, where brave homeowners settled to enjoy and to weather the elements. Helen was seduced into a momentary state of denial.

  In the back seat, Sister read Helen’s mind. “Hard to believe we’re in this beautiful landscape to find out why someone killed Sally Bianco.”

  As they reached the beach highway, Helen said she preferred the Victorian, bed-and-breakfast houses to the more modern establishments. “The decorating colors probably help travelers find their accommodations.” Transported to an earlier time, Helen hit her automatic window button. May birds she couldn’t name were singing along with the seagulls. When Max opened the driver’s window, she could hear the waves on the black outcroppings of rock between the long stretches of beach.

  Max slowed the car. “Try imagining riding in a horse-drawn carriage.”

  “I know an old story about the father of a sick woman,” Sister said. “He carpeted the cobblestone street outside their home with bales of hay. The hay softened the sounds of buggy wheels.”

  “My father would have been such a man,” Helen said. “I still live at home.”

  �
�They will understand your need to prove yourself,” Max said, “when you move out.”

  “Do you think we can trap Marilyn Helms into confessing the murder?” Helen asked.

  “I think …,” Sister said. “We can convince Marilyn she would be doing herself more harm by not cooperating.”

  Helen returned to the previous subject. “I do want to live alone, for a while.”

  “Before you marry?” Sister asked.

  Max coughed.

  Helen had been tempted to add, ‘even if Max is in love with me.’ Instead, she chose a less emotional subject. “These Victorian houses remind me of my favorite doll houses.”

  “How many do you own? The sisters, who went upstairs at your mother’s after the funeral, mentioned seeing quite a few.”

  “Twenty-five,” Max said.

  Helen didn’t hear any disapproval in Max’s voice. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of them, when I finally move into my own place.”

  Sister tapped Helen’s shoulder. “I’d love to see them. We, the sisters, I mean are all a little childish.”

  “I have enough to give each of them two.” Helen laughed.

  “One a piece would be great. Good therapy for their homesickness. Actually just to decorate their rooms.”

  “You do live rather like Spartans.” Max laughed. “I can’t think of a better home for the collection.”

  “Maybe some of the abuse shelters would like a few,” Sister said. “The doll houses might relieve the sisters’ thwarted nesting instincts.”

  “I’ll keep my favorite Victorian one. It has those long windows and high ceilings. Modern homes have two-story ceilings in the entrance way.”

  Max said, “I need head room in every room.”

  Sister laughed. “You will require higher ceilings like the ones in these old-fashioned houses.”

  “My studio ceilings are two-stories high.” Max smiled at Helen.

  She recognized she was making premature statements. “I need to focus on the goals of our trip to the ocean.”