by Lesley Crewe
“Me too.” Dahlia banged the door behind her.
“Me three.” Slater leapt out.
“Well, shit.” Eli went after them.
The kids hurried into the building and snuck up behind their relatives. They peeked around a corner. Their aunts and uncle stood outside the door of an apartment on the second floor, arguing amongst themselves in loud whispers.
“Why don’t they do something?” Lily wondered.
Just then Juliet hit Faith over the head with her Gucci bag and Robert wrestled it away from her.
“Oh, for the love of pete. Those twits are killing each other,” Eli griped.
“They are? Let’s see.” Slater moved closer to the edge to get a better look and lost his footing. He fell into the other three, who went down like bowling balls in the middle of the corridor with a muffled THUD onto the carpet.
“Freaking heck, Slater,” Eli groaned. “I think my ankle’s broken.”
The trio at the door whipped around at the commotion.
Juliet screamed. “What are you idiots doing here?”
“Ditto,” Lily yelled from the bottom of the heap.
The apartment door suddenly opened and Bunny stood there in all her glory. “Are you here to collect for an idiot charity? If so, I gave at the office.” Bunny stepped forward. “Let me guess.” She took a drag of her cigarette and blew it at them. “The Brooks family.”
No one moved.
“Save your breath. I told the truth. And I don’t give a flying fig if you believe me or not.” She turned to go and then stopped. “And another thing. You can tell him that if he ever tries to come near me again, it won’t be just your precious Aunt Hildy with a hole in her heart.”
She slammed the door.
Juliet huffed. “Well, this is what I get for doing a good deed. I swear, never again.” She stepped over the kids in the hall.
“What good deed?” Lily said. “You didn’t do anything except have a snit in front of her door.”
“Button your lip, young lady. You’re too mouthy for your own good. Come on you two,” she said to her husband and sister. “Let’s get a bite. I’m famished.”
The kids were walked over twice more before they untangled themselves, sat up and looked at each other.
“This isn’t good.” Lily said quietly.
“You know what just occurred to me?” Dahlia whispered. “How did she know Aunt Hildy was shot through the heart? The papers never said.”
The police had to let Graham go after a miserable afternoon of interrogation. When it came down to it they couldn’t prove that he didn’t just go for a walk. But the detectives warned him that asking Bunny to lie about where he was made him the prime suspect. The lawyer and Elsie met him as he came out, exhausted from the endless questions that were seemingly all the same. Graham and Elsie walked to the car and got in, Elsie behind the wheel. She didn’t move.
“Tell me.”
“Honestly, I’m sick to death of talking, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, Graham. I sat outside that office all afternoon. I deserve to know.”
He gave a big sigh. “I asked Bunny to tell the police I was there all night and she did. But the fact is, I wasn’t there all night and she knew it. She decided to tell the police the truth.”
She looked incredulous. “Why did you do that? Don’t you know how suspicious that makes you look?”
He hit the glove compartment with his fist. “I’m such an idiot. I panicked because she knew I went out but I had no explanation for why I went. I honestly went for a walk. I sat on a stupid park bench, which is a dumb thing to do in the middle of the night, but I needed to get some air. The evening was so upsetting, not only about the treasure crap but the girls being angry with me. Even their boyfriends looked at me like I was the world’s biggest loser. I was humiliated and I couldn’t sleep. I think I had a panic attack. But the fact is, no one can verify that I did sit on that stupid bench, so I’m stuck.”
“But why did Bunny change her story all of a sudden?”
He looked ahead at the windshield. “I didn’t see her for awhile, what with the funeral and everything. It obviously pissed her off.”
“She threw you to the lions, Graham, just to get back at you. What does that say about her?”
He lowered his head. “You don’t have to point it out. Can we just go?”
She turned on the ignition and threw the car into drive, pulling out onto Gottingen Street a little too quickly.
“Don’t get a speeding ticket in front of Police Headquarters,” Graham said.
Elsie gave him a dirty look. Why didn’t she let him take the bus home? She could’ve spent the day fretting in front of the television watching old movies. Instead, she sat in that stinking corridor counting the holes in the ceiling tiles.
“Stop chewing your bottom lip,” he said out of the blue.
“If it’s okay by you, I’ll handle stress any old way I please.”’
They sat at a red light on the corner of Gottingen and North Street. Elsie looked at the other cars, filled with people who didn’t spend their day at the police station. They were probably going to Grandma’s house for Sunday dinner. They’d have roast beef with gravy and Yorkshire pudding, topped off with warm strawberry-rhubarb pie and a dollop of vanilla ice cream for dessert.
The light turned green and the car behind them honked impatiently. Flustered, Elsie turned the corner and continued up North Street. At the next stop sign, Graham put his hand up to her cheek and rubbed a tear away with his thumb. He kept his hand there for a moment and she leaned into it.
They pulled into the driveway. Graham turned to her. “I can’t face the kids right now.”
Elsie took the keys out of the ignition. “They’ve been worried too. They’ll want to know what happened.”
“Just tell them whatever you want. There’s something I have to do first.” He started to get out of the car.
“What do you mean? Where are you going?”
He looked back at her. “I have to see her, Elsie. She can’t get away with this.”
“Let me go with you then.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“She’s upset my life and our children’s lives as well, don’t forget.”
Graham let out a big sigh.
“Never mind then.” Elsie slammed the car door in his face and walked up the back steps into the house. Graham watched her go. Then he too got out of the car, picked up his van keys and drove as fast as he dared to Bunny’s apartment.
When she opened the door, she tried to close it in his face.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Get lost, Graham.”
“Please. I’ve had a bitch of a day and I need to speak with you.”
“Oh, come in then and get it over with.” She held the door and let him through. “You’re not the only one who had a crappy day. I had your whole damn family here this morning.”
“What?”
“Screaming in the hallway, bunch of lunatics.”
He paced in her living room. “Never mind about them. I can’t believe the stunt you pulled. I know I was wrong to ask you to lie about where I was. I shouldn’t have done that. But to tell them I wanted the treasure to run away with you? Why? I just want to know why?”
Bunny looked at him as if he was mad. “I don’t owe you any favours. That shit of a detective had it right. You’re only here when you want a lay. You could care less about me.”
“Well, I was stupid enough to think you did care for me,” he yelled. “You told me often enough, flinging yourself on me day and night. But obviously I was wrong. The trouble is, your kind of revenge is deadly. There’s a cloud of suspicion over me already because I don’t have an alibi for my whereabouts that night. But now thanks to you, the police think I had a motive for killing Aunt Hildy.”
“You’re a selfish prick, did you know that? How was I supposed to know that you didn’t kill that old woman? You w
ere gone when she was shot. You snuck back to bed and obviously didn’t want me to know you’d been out. Besides the fact that you never shut up about how much she ticked you off.”
Graham took a step back. “You actually think I’m the type of man who would kill a defenceless old woman?” He pointed his finger at her. “You’re sick, lady.”
“You deserved it,” she hollered in his face. “You treat me like trash. I took you in when you needed someone the other night. I gave myself to you. And just when I believed you really liked me…when you said you’d come back to me, you make one phone call and then nothing. Not a word for days. What did you expect me to do? Roll over and take it?”
“My wife’s aunt was murdered. She was distraught. I needed to be with my family. Is that so difficult to understand? Someone was killed in my house. I know it’s hard to believe, but that took precedence over you.”
“Well, understand this, Graham,” she said as she walked over to the door and opened it. “I want you to stay away from me.
You’ve used me once too often. And if your weird family ever come near me again, you’ll be sorry.”
He walked up to her. “You go near my family and you won’t know what hit you.”
He heard the door slam behind him. He got in the truck, fumbling with the keys because his hands shook. This was a bloody nightmare. The woman was sick. How could he have brought her into his home?
He needed a beer.
He opened his small fridge when he got back home, but he’d run out. So he walked upstairs and got one out of Elsie’s fridge. He sat at the table and downed it.
She walked into the kitchen. “Did you see her?”
He only had the strength to nod.
She waited for him to say something. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” And out she went.
He could see Juliet on her hands and knees in the sunroom. She peered under the sofa. He had no illusions as to why—he knew it wasn’t to help with the housework. “Do you ever go home, Juliet?” he shouted across the room.
“Do you?” she yelled back.
“Witch,” he muttered. As he sat there, Eli came into the kitchen and grabbed four cans of Pepsi. These two characters ate Elsie out of house and home and she didn’t seem to mind. Well, he did. People took advantage of her and he was tired of it.
Eli gave him a sympathetic look. “You must have had a hard day, Mr. Brooks.”
Graham got up, took another beer from the fridge and sat back at the table. “Never mind that. What do you do, anyway, Eli?”
“I volunteer at various human rights advocacy groups, Amnesty International, that sort of thing. And I man the phones for a kids’ hotline at the youth centre. And take a few classes.”
He took a swallow of beer and leaned back in the kitchen chair. “I didn’t ask about your extracurricular activities. I mean your real job.”
“That is my real job.”
He swallowed another huge gulp of beer. “Let me put it this way. How would you buy groceries if we weren’t around?”
“Oh. My mom and dad sent me monthly cheques.”
Graham finished the can. “They sent you cheques?
“Yeah. To help ease their guilt for never being around. They really don’t care what I do or where I go. I’ve always sort of interfered with their lives.”
“Interfered?
“Mom was forty-six when I was born. It’s family legend that my father had to beg her to come in off the window ledge when she found out she was pregnant.”
“I see.” Graham went to the fridge and took out his third beer. “But Elsie told me you were brought up on a commune. How did the hippie thing happen if your parents were middle-aged when you were in diapers?”
Eli shifted the cold pop in his hands. “Personally, I think they both had nervous breakdowns and my grandparents shipped them off to the middle of nowhere until they were better.”
“Your grandparents? How frigging old are they?”
“They’re in their nineties. Last I heard they were on their yacht in Monte Carlo. They like to gamble. It’s their hobby.”
Graham pointed at him with his can. “Are you saying your family’s rich?”
“Stinking.”
“Give Elsie your next cheque. To buy groceries.”
“No problem.”
“How much do you get every month?”
“Twenty g’s.”
Graham choked. When he could talk again, he wheezed, “That should just about cover it.”
Eli turned to go, when he paused and looked back. “You’re lucky Mr. Brooks. Not everyone has a family like this one. I wish I did.”
Graham sat for a long time after Eli left the room. Then he got up and downed his fourth beer.
What with the funeral and the treasure hunt and being mired in Elsie and Graham’s problems, Juliet and Robert delayed making a final decision about their predicament. But now it was crunch time. Creditors breathed down their necks. Their only option was to sell the house to pay off their debts and move into the old barn across the yard.
Juliet was distraught at the thought of it, until her husband reminded her that they’d be able to sneak into Elsie’s pretty much at will. There had to be more treasure than the three diamonds.
Luckily the Beech Street house was vacant of tenants and their place sold quickly because of the many amenities they’d acquired over the years, but handing the key over to the real estate agent wasn’t easy. Juliet cried all afternoon.
It took a few days for their belongings to be packed up and the old house put to rights with the help of a cleaning company, so they bunked in with Elsie until the move was complete.
When the workmen were finished, they went over to see their new property. It was a cold day, a definite nip in the air. Naked tree branches waved against a steel-grey sky. The ground was hard, almost frosty. Kiwi strained at her leash, sniffing around in her tangerine-coloured wool sweater and matching booties.
As they started off, Juliet looked back at Elsie’s house with a stab of pure envy. She’d hated the old dinosaur growing up. Couldn’t wait to get out of it and into something modern and stylish like some of her friends in the newly developed end of town, full of split levels and bungalow-style dwellings with vinyl siding and brick inlay.
Now, of course, the family home was a beauty. She had to admit her little sister had done wonders. She was a messy housekeeper, probably due to the fact there were only so many hours in the day, but she had great taste in decorating and a natural style that Juliet tried to emulate but could never copy.
The flowers that edged the front walk to the wide surrounding porch were gone now, but the perennials stood bravely in the biting wind. The red maple her mother planted years ago had flourished on the front lawn. The shingles on the house were stained a gorgeous tint of mossy pewter, with a complementary cream on the trim and rich brownish rust on the front door, shutters and window boxes. Depending on the season, cattails, pussy willows or pine and holly were stuffed into the large milk cans and butter churns Elsie used as flower pots on her veranda. Only recently, a beautiful country screen door was added and it set off the house like a little jewel.
Juliet decided life was unfair and stupid. She set off at a faster clip, to get away from the perfect place.
“Wait for me,” Robert whined. “I can’t keep up.”
She looked back at her husband. When did he get so old? His hair looked silver in the sun and his small pot belly hung slightly over his belt. To top it off, as far as she could make out, his posterior looked exactly the same as before. Perhaps there was no hope for improvement. The thought didn’t add to her mood.
“It’s only around the corner,” she said impatiently. “It’s not a marathon.”
“I’m stiff.”
She mumbled, “You’re a stiff all right. Except where it matters.”
“Thank you very much,” he groused. “How am I supposed to perform? I’ve just lost all my money, my home, my job, not to mention the fact tha
t my backside looks like a cheese grater. Pardon me, if I’m not in the mood to sweep you off your feet.”
“Fine. Never mind. Let’s just go and see if the cleaners have put a dent in the stupid place.”
They walked to the end of the street, turned left, walked up the street, turned left again and walked halfway down the street to stop in front of a monstrous beast of a house.
It was the same vintage as Elsie’s, but the bones weren’t as aesthetically pleasing. There were no gabled windows and it was on a smaller piece of property. At some point over the years, it had been converted into three apartments, so there were multiple doors on the front porch, which looked awkward and confusing. It was in desperate need of paint and had an air of neglect. The only thing on the front lawn was grass, and even that was patchy and brown. It was definitely the black sheep of the street.
“Oh God.”
“Let’s go,” Robert said. As they went up the stairs, Juliet tripped on a broken board.
“A new front porch wouldn’t go amiss. Oh great. I just put a hole in my stocking.”
They entered the largest apartment. At least the cleaners had taken care of the musty smell. They wandered around the large rooms. Their footsteps echoed in spite of the boxes piled everywhere.
“Yuck, what a horrible old house.”
“It looks a lot better than when we first saw it,” Robert said.
“How’s one supposed to make a home out of a place that’s been divided into three apartments? I mean, how many toilets do I have to clean?”
“One. If we rent two of them, that’ll bring in cash.”
Juliet looked around. “Are you kidding me? I’m not having a bunch of strangers in my house. That’s disgusting.”
“But they’ll be on the other side of the wall. What do you care?”
“What if they cook cabbage all day? Or smoke and burn the place down? I’m not the sort of woman who becomes a landlady in the prime of her life.”
Robert raised his voice. “You don’t want to be a bag lady either, and you will be if we don’t generate some income.”
“But the money from the house and my car?”
“Juliet, I’ve told you. That paid off our debts. I can’t find a job, at least not yet, and you refuse to work. So how are we supposed to put bread on the table?”
