by Clea Simon
‘Sorry.’ The officer sounded regretful, at least. ‘Once we’re at the station.’
She continued walking, phone in hand, when it hit her: she had Suze on speed dial. The phone was turned on. Feeling the keyboard carefully, she hit ‘three’. At least, she hoped it was three – she really didn’t need to have Lucy hear what was going on.
‘Legal Defense.’ The voice was soft, muted against Dulcie’s palm, and she cleared her throat to cover it. Neither cop seemed to notice.
‘I would like to know,’ she said loudly, ‘why I am being taken to the Cambridge Police Station. I believe it is my right to be told.’
‘Dulcie!’ She could hear Suze’s voice before she hung up. ‘I’m on my way.’
The male cop gave her a dirty look. ‘I said you’d get your chance.’ His partner smiled as she opened the cruiser door.
During the short drive, Dulcie’s mind raced. This was more than someone just trying to get out from under a cloud, or help out a friend with a dodgy favor. This was a concerted attack. Not only had someone planted that page – both those pages, she admitted silently – but someone had also dropped a dime about where to find them.
That didn’t clear Lloyd, she realized as the cruiser made its way toward Central Square. He might have reached out to her because the cops had shown up, asking which was her desk. Or it could mean that he knew something was wrong. Maybe Rafe had asked him to give her those pages, and he had done so, not knowing what they meant. Maybe . . . It was useless, Dulcie realized as the car pulled into a marked spot. As much as she wanted to trust Lloyd, to believe that he hadn’t helped land her in this mess, the truth was that she knew very little of what had happened, and she understood even less.
What she did know for sure was that she was in trouble. And although she had no idea what a cat, even one on the spectral plain, could do for her in this situation, she found herself looking around as the female officer escorted her out of the cruiser. ‘Mr Grey?’ she whispered to the air. ‘Any ideas?’
The female cop turned toward her, but Dulcie shook her head. Instead, his name on her lips, she glanced into the shadowy corners of the alley as the two officers walked her up to the forbidding stone building. ‘Mr Grey?’ Could it be that she imagined the breeze, soft as the touch of fur, that brushed her face as they made for the front door? Was there something in the small dust devil that rose up in the corner by the door, something with green eyes, perhaps?
Newly heartened, Dulcie prepared herself for the confrontation to come. She would, she decided, tell the police everything. Suze had advised her to come clean about the first page, and such a disclosure had to be better late than never, or so she hoped. Besides, if she explained about the first page showing up, stuck to her notepad, she could tell the cops her theory about Rafe. She knew he was a friend of Lloyd’s, but really, as the dead girl’s ex, as well as a potential academic rival, he had every reason to be put through the same scrutiny that she was. And if he had set her up, well, that only made him worse.
She wouldn’t feel good telling tales about Rafe. For all she knew, he might be innocent. But someone wasn’t, and whoever it wasn’t, wasn’t her. She paused for a moment, the syntax getting the better of her. But as the female cop turned to face her, she started moving again. Murmuring her question to the air – ‘Isn’t that right, Mr Grey?’ – she allowed herself to be herded into the building.
Unlike its university counterpart, the city police HQ had nothing of the quiet office about it. Although the same dull fluorescent lighting illuminated a similar set up, with a tall wooden barrier serving as some kind of counter in a large reception area, everything else looked different. Older, grimier, from the stained linoleum to the three grey-haired men who sat on the reception benches, staring into space. But if she didn’t see any trace of her beloved pet, Dulcie did catch sight of another face that was equally, if not more, welcome.
‘Suze!’ She jumped up and waved, causing both her escorts to whirl around. ‘Over here.’
‘You’ll see your friend in a minute,’ said the woman cop, in a not unkindly voice. Taking Dulcie’s elbow, she walked her over to that wooden counter, and Suze disappeared behind a closed door. ‘Let’s get you signed in first.’
‘She’s not just my friend,’ Dulcie couldn’t help bragging. With Suze here, she was sure that everything would soon be straightened out. ‘She’s a lawyer.’
It took another forty minutes, however, before even her old room-mate could get to her. In the meantime, she was escorted through a glass-fronted door and down a long corridor badly lit by flickering fluorescents.
‘Where are we going?’ Dulcie wasn’t too worried, not with Suze in the building. Her room-mate had seen her, hadn’t she? Besides, she was getting hungry. Chris would be waiting for her, wondering where she was. ‘When will I get my phone call?’
‘Just a bit longer,’ her escort said, though in answer to which question, Dulcie couldn’t tell. ‘Around here, please.’ With her hand on Dulcie’s elbow, she maneuvered her around a corner and toward an open door. ‘Have a seat.’
Dulcie stepped into the doorway, then jerked back. ‘Hey, wait.’ She craned her neck down the corridor at a familiar sun-bleached mop. ‘Andrew?’
He was gone, and the officer was losing patience. ‘Ms Schwartz, please take a seat.’
‘I know him,’ Dulcie started to explain, as the cop nodded to an armless chair. ‘He’s one of my students. I don’t understand—’
Then, suddenly, she did. Thalia had been trying to tell her, to warn her, when she visited. Thalia had said that her friend – Andrew – was involved in something that made her uncomfortable. Could that something have been planting evidence on her, in her office desk drawer? She pictured him at the house tea; he’d been pretty chummy with Rafe there. Would he be willing to do the tutor’s dirty work? It almost made sense, but why?
And why wouldn’t Lloyd have said something if the handsome undergraduate had dropped by? Lloyd was friendly with the senior tutor, but as far as Dulcie knew, he didn’t know Andrew at all. Dulcie shook her head, more confused than ever.
Before she could puzzle it out, however, the door jerked open and Suze stormed in like a fury. ‘Dulcie! Are you OK?’
‘Suze!’ Dulcie couldn’t help smiling. ‘Thank the goddess, you found me.’
Suze stepped aside to let in a faded middle-aged woman in a lumpy suit holding an equally lumpy canvas briefcase.
‘This is my boss,’ Suze whispered to Dulcie, pulling up the extra chair. ‘I figured it would help to have someone who is actually licensed to practice in the state.’
‘Thanks, Suze.’ Dulcie looked up at the older woman, who was talking to the police woman in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry to be such a bother.’
‘Hey, it’s part of my practicum.’ Suze didn’t seem at all put out. ‘We agreed on the way over. I’ll handle everything, and she’ll sign off. It’s great that I get real-world experience. In a way,’ she paused when she saw the look on Dulcie’s face, ‘you’re helping me out.’
‘You really are a great friend, you know.’ Dulcie had to give her that. ‘So, what happens now?’
Suze looked up at her boss. ‘Now we figure out what’s going on. If you’re simply here to be questioned, then you can leave. If they’re going to press charges, well, then . . .’ She paused and looked at her friend. Dulcie knew she’d gone pale, and Suze continued with more enthusiasm in her voice. ‘If that’s the case, then we tackle that.’
‘Burn that bridge when we come to it?’ Dulcie tried to conjure a smile.
‘Exactly.’ Suze patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry, if you can help it, Dulcie. I really don’t think that’s what’s going on here. I mean, they didn’t say anything to you about being arrested, right?’
Dulcie nodded – then quickly shook her head, and Suze, smiling, went on. ‘And they didn’t Mirandize you?’ Another shake.
‘They’re just bluffing then.’ Suze sounded so confident, Dulcie loo
ked to her for more. ‘Some of it is the usual town-gown tension,’ her old friend continued. ‘You know, they think the university is soft on its own. They think college cops, like your buddy Rogovoy, can’t solve anything. And now that they’ve gotten their hands on a murder case—’
Dulcie put her hand up. ‘Suze, please.’ Her friend blinked, and Dulcie realized that she must look as green as she felt.
‘I’m sorry,’ Suze leaned in. ‘I got carried away. There really isn’t any reason to be scared.’ She tried a smile, but Dulcie knew her too well. ‘Elizabeth is the best there is,’ she said finally.
They both looked up. Suze’s boss was still talking, but as they watched, she turned and walked away. The cop remained.
‘There’s a lot of paperwork,’ said Suze, sounding so blasé that Dulcie almost believed her. She had, however, brought up something Dulcie had wanted to discuss.
‘Speaking of paperwork . . .’ Now it was her turn to lean in toward her friend. ‘They found another of those pages in my desk. I think maybe I know how it got there, and the page in my bag, too.’ She looked up. The cop was still in the doorway, but staring across the hall. Dulcie dropped her voice further. ‘One of my students, Andrew Geisner, is here, too. I don’t know what’s up with him, but he was one of the bunch talking to Rafe Hutchins the other night.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Rafe Hutchins, senior tutor in Dardley.’ Dulcie mused on the connection. ‘And Andrew’s working for the dean. I’m wondering if the dean is investigating this independently. If he has someone down here to report back to him. But why? I know he wants this solved, and he’s already got me on probation . . .’
Suze’s voice was gentle as she took her friend’s hand.
‘Dulcie, I don’t know what to tell you,’ she said. ‘From everything you’ve told me, it just sounds like this dean is out to get you. And it would be a lot easier to expel you if you were facing a charge of murder.’
FORTY-FIVE
Suze’s boss, Elizabeth Ventner, might look like someone’s kindly aunt, her grey-streaked brown hair coming loose from its bun. But despite the old-fashioned ’do and a round face that ought to have been jolly, the attorney did not give an inch. For starters, she insisted on accompanying Dulcie into the interrogation room. (‘A discussion? Please,’ her soft voice had dripped with sarcasm.) Even then, she barely let Dulcie answer any questions.
‘But I have an idea,’ Dulcie had turned toward her at one point, gritting her teeth with the effort of keeping quiet.
‘May I have a moment, please?’ Elizabeth had turned toward the detective who was doing the questioning. He had nodded and stepped out of the room.
‘Are they listening?’ Dulcie looked around the apparently empty room.
‘That would be illegal,’ said Elizabeth, in what Dulcie recognized as a non-answer. ‘However, as your attorney, I would advise you, once again, not to say anything.’ This had been a running theme of the past ninety minutes.
‘But I think I know what happened. I think Andrew Geisner, my student, planted those pages for some reason. And now he’s here, looking for dirt to bring back.’
The older woman silenced her with a gesture. ‘Please, Dulcie. We’re not looking to present an alternative theory here. That’s what we’ll do if this goes to trial. Once again, please, let’s keep this simple. Straightforward and simple. Got it?’
‘I’ve got it,’ Dulcie said with a resigned sigh.
‘Good.’
It was excruciating. Not being able to give the nuance and context that seemed so incredibly relevant, and yet not being able to tune out, either, as Suze’s boss and the cop went at it, dissecting her life for the past few days. But after her first few attempts to explain, she gave up, falling back on the ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and ‘I don’t know’ that the lawyer seemed to want.
Back and forth, short questions and shorter answers, until Dulcie felt dizzy. The whole thing was like some verbal tennis match, in which lobbing the ball was more important than the truth. As she watched, they went back over Saturday, the day of the murder, and the timing of who had been where when. When they moved on to the paper in her desk, she’d leaned in, hoping to hear something about how the office happened to be searched.
The police were intent on gathering information, however, not giving it out. The search was presented as a fait accompli – no reason, no tip-off. Nothing. Simply something that had happened and had turned up a page that had been verified as belonging to the missing manuscript. It was maddening.
‘What we’d like to know is how, if Ms Schwartz claims no prior knowledge of this page, did it find its way into her –’ he paused to check his notes – ‘bottom-right drawer.’
‘Claims! I don’t know how it got there.’ She couldn’t help herself. ‘But I do have some ideas—’
‘Now’s not the time.’ Elizabeth shut her down, her eyes hard in that soft, round face. ‘You and I can talk later.’
‘If Ms Schwartz wants to volunteer some information . . .’ The way the cop said it made Dulcie feel dirty – and grateful for her advocate’s quick response.
‘That was a communication with me. That’s all,’ she said. Another volley returned. ‘Come on,’ Elizabeth said to her. ‘We’re done here.’
The cop at the other side of the table didn’t respond, and so when Elizabeth stood, Dulcie did, too. At a gesture from the older woman, she walked toward the door, opened it and stepped out. Nobody grabbed her, and she realized she had been holding her breath.
‘Here’s my card.’ It took Dulcie a moment to realize that the woman standing beside her was still talking. ‘If you want to go over any of this, we can arrange a time for you to come in. And if the police call you again or want you to come down here again, call me immediately.’
Dulcie took the card and looked at it, unseeing.
‘Are you OK, Dulcie?’ The attorney’s voice was gentler than it had been inside the room, and Dulcie looked up to see the round face lined with concern.
She nodded. ‘This is just all so confusing,’ she said. It was the best she could come up with. Even though Dulcie didn’t think she’d said more than thirty words in total during the entire interrogation, she was exhausted. ‘I don’t understand any of it.’
‘They don’t want you to.’ Elizabeth’s mouth was set in a grim line. ‘Come on, let’s get you home.’
It was more than she could hope for, but Dulcie’s heart leaped when she saw Suze. Her friend jumped up from the waiting-room bench and strode toward them. ‘Dulcie! Are you OK?’
Dulcie nodded, as Elizabeth hustled them both out of the building. ‘Thank you so much, Suze. And you, too.’ Dulcie turned toward the older woman.
Under the harsh street lights, Elizabeth looked as tired as Dulcie felt. But she smiled as she unlocked a beat-up sedan and Dulcie piled into the back seat. Suze, in the front, leaned over the seat-back to talk. ‘So, tell me, you’ve got to have some ideas about who’s setting you up.’
Elizabeth looked over. She didn’t say anything, but Suze responded to her silent admonition. ‘I’m not saying Dulcie should share her ideas with the cops. But you’ve got to agree, if we can figure out what’s really going on here, it will be easier to clear Dulcie.’
Elizabeth nodded slightly, and Suze turned back to her friend. ‘Tell.’
‘Well, there’s Rafe.’ She gave her friend the low-down on the senior tutor, including the house tea. ‘Which reminds me, did you see Andrew Geisner?’
Suze shook her head. ‘I don’t know him.’
‘Tall, surfer-dude handsome.’ Dulcie had rarely felt at such a loss for words. ‘Young.’
‘No, I think the youngest guy who walked by me was about forty. Or maybe that was just his lack of teeth. But I don’t think he’d qualify as handsome.’
Dulcie was forced to agree. ‘Maybe that means something, though. Maybe he wasn’t being questioned. Maybe he was giving evidence. Does the police station have separate entrances?’
Elizabeth glanced over at Suze. ‘It does. Your friend has a point.’
‘I have to talk to him, then,’ Dulcie decided, despite her fatigue. ‘As soon as possible.’
‘No, you don’t.’ Elizabeth broke in before Suze could. ‘You have to stay out of trouble – and that means not talking to anyone who’s involved. This might be something Suze could take on.’
‘Happy to.’ She looked it, too, and Dulcie realized how frustrating it must be for her friend, not being able to help. Still, she wasn’t thrilled with the idea. Suze didn’t know Andrew. She didn’t have a relationship with him. She didn’t know Thalia, or what her student had said about her boyfriend.
‘Dulcie?’ Suze was looking at her, and Dulcie realized that her doubt must be writ across her face. ‘You’ve had a rough day. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, OK?’
‘OK.’ That was fair. Elizabeth was pulling up in front of Dulcie’s building, when another thought hit her. ‘Suze, did you get a chance to call Chris?’
Guilt washed over her friend’s face and she bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Dulce. I forgot.’ She checked her watch. ‘It’s not that late, though. Tell him it’s my fault, OK? And give him a big hug from me.’
Dulcie nodded as she got out of the car. The situation with Chris was more complicated than she was able to explain right now. Repeating her thanks to Elizabeth, she waved them both off and went inside to face the music.
‘Hello! I’m home!’ At the sound of her voice, Esmé came galloping, skidding the last few feet across the hardwood floor to plow into Dulcie’s shins. Dulcie responded by dropping her bag and scooping up the little cat, suddenly aware of how much she needed Esmé’s warm comfort. After a moment of nuzzling that soft white belly, she realized that the feline tackle was the only greeting she’d received.
‘Hello?’ she called as she carried the cat into the kitchen. ‘Chris?’
Nothing, not even a note. Only the cold remains of some takeout. Dulcie saw what looked like congealed yu shiang eggplant, and her heart sank.
