by Ed Gorman
Kate frowned. 'Boy, that's all you need. Publicity again.'
To Mitch, Jill said, 'This is all routine, right?'
'I hope so.'
'You don't sound sure.'
'My Lieutenant iswell, I don't know if you remember me talking about him, but Lieutenant Sievers isn't exactly a criminology genius. He's very old-school. And he tends to pursue the first person who looks like a good suspect.'
She thought of tabloid journalists hiding in wait wherever she went. Could it all happen again?
'Eric was alive and well when I left there.'
'I'm sure he was.'
'Do you have any advice?'
'Don't let him rile you. The Lieutenant, I mean. He's very good at making people feel guilty, even when they're not.'
'God, I'm not looking forward to this.'
'Maybe…' He paused. 'Maybe I could come over and give you a little moral support.'
She glanced at Kate, still feeling embarrassed about talking to Mitch in front of her, probably because she knew that Kate still disliked Mitch for what he'd done to Jill.
She did not want to say what she said next. But somehow the words came, symbols of all the loneliness and tenderness and emptiness she'd known since Mitch had so abruptly left her life. 'I'd like that.'
'I'll be there in twenty minutes.'
She hung up and said to Kate, 'I guess I'm going to have company a little later.'
Kate looked at her levelly. 'You sure you want him coming around again, Jill?'
Jill smiled sardonically. ''That's the funny thing. I do want him coming around again.'
CHAPTER 40
Doris spent an hour on the phone talking to a college classmate who'd called a few weeks earlier. Doris hadn't gotten a chance to return the call till now, which gave her the perfect opportunity to be in the second den, the smaller one, that her mother used as an office.
As Doris and her friend Amy went through the latest on divorces, births, re-marriages and promotions, Doris carefully examined everything on the green felt desk pad, and then began working her way through the desk drawers.
She wanted to find something with the man's name on it. Runyon.
'And did you hear about Sally Wasserman?'
'No,' Doris said, trying to stay alert as she talked and searched. 'But she's such a decent person, I hope it's good news.'
'New breasts.'
'Sally Wasserman? That must be just a rumor.'
'No rumor. I've seen them with my own eyes.'
'Maybe she's just wearing padded bras.'
Amy chuckled. 'No bra's this padded, believe me. Plus, they sit straight out.'
'Maybe I should look into it myself.'
'You? You've got great charlies, Doris.'
'"Charlies?"' Doris laughed. 'God, where did you hear that?'
'That's what my ten-year-old calls them when he thinks I'm not listening to him talk to his totally sexist little friends. I think we're raising a generation of male chauvinist pigs.'
'Well, is there anybody we haven't worked over?' Much as Doris had always liked Amy, she always felt slightly degraded after talking to the woman. They had a tendency to make uncharitable remarks about other people and that wasn't exactly the image Doris wanted of herself. Living at home with a dominating mother didn't exactly make her an ideal person herself, so she shouldn't criticize others for the way they chose to live their lives.
Amy said, 'And how about Robert Fitz'
But before Amy could launch into a job on hapless fat Robert Fitzgerald, Doris said, 'Did you hear about Helen?'
'McGiver?'
'Uh-huh.'
'No, what? Her husband dump her?'
'No. She got promoted to chief of staff at her hospital in Florida.'
'And that's it?'
Doris laughed. 'Oh, right, I guess I forgot to add that she's figured out a way to have sex while she's operating on a patient. She's sleeping with all these sexy young interns and'
Runyon!
Name, address, telephone number neatly typed on a sheet of letterhead.
But that wasn't the most surprising thing.
It was who the letterhead belonged to that shocked Doris.
Third desk drawer, left side.
'You all right?'
'Fine.'
'You sure, Doris?'
Doris tried to recover. 'I just looked up at the clock.'
'You have to go?'
'I'm afraid so. I just remembered that I promised my mother I'd help her with something.'
Pause. 'How is your mother?' Amy's voice always got very tight whenever she mentioned Mrs. Tappley.
Doris knew that whenever Amy discussed her, she clucked about Evelyn. Old shrew. Keeping her daughter a prisoner like that. So selfish. That was the funny thing. Doris knew that Amy really liked her. They'd always been something like best friends, and yet Amy completely disapproved of how Doris let Evelyn control her life.
'Oh, she's fine. Getting older. You know.'
But for once Amy didn't deliver a cryptic speech about how much a prisoner Doris was in her own house.
'It's sad, isn't it?' Amy said. 'Seeing your folks get old. I looked at my mother the other day, and I suddenly realized she's becoming this little old lady. It really scared me, how vulnerable she looked. I wanted to hide her somewhere, so Death couldn't find her. You know?'
'I know exactly.'
'Oh hon, I'm sorry I run people down all the time. I know how much of a gossip I am, and I know how much that bothers you.'
'I don't hang up, do I?' Doris said. 'And I gossip just as much as you do.'
'Thanks for saying that, hon, even though you know it's not true.'
'This time, I owe you the call.'
'Take care of yourself.'
'You, too, Amy.'
Doris sat back and stared at the letterhead. Two other names were typed on it, further down the page:
ADAM MORROW
RICK CORDAY
The names were followed by the same Chicago address and phone number.
But it was the name on the letterhead that held Doris's attention.
ARTHUR K. HALLIWELL
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Arthur Halliwell was one of the most successful attorneys in Chicago, and had been the family's personal lawyer since the days that Doris' father had selected him to guard and administer the Tappley fortune.
Arthur Halliwell was one of the most respected men in the state. And the wisest. And the most conservative.
Doris couldn't imagine him ever helping her mother do something as illegal as get Jill Coffey into some sort of trouble…
'She'll get her comeuppance,' her mother had said earlier.
Still so bitter. Still so angry.
Doris could easily picture her mother contriving some kind of plan to ensnare Jill but Arthur Halliwell helping her…?
Doris slid the letterhead back into the drawer and closed it quietly.
She wanted to see her mother pass on with as much grace as possible. She did not want Evelyn to waste her remaining years pursuing some insane dream of vengeance.
Of his own free will, her brother Peter had crossed the state line into Indiana where, on three different occasionsand perhaps more that nobody knew abouthe'd murdered and eviscerated three young women. And the state of Indiana had put him to death.
Jill Coffey had had nothing to do with any of it.
It was time Evelyn was made to understand that.
And understand it once and for all.
She left the den, climbing the grand staircase to the second floor and her mother's room.
CHAPTER 41
Rick Corday watched the man knock on Jill's ground-floor door. He wondered who he was. This was his second visit tonight.
He waited until Jill appeared silhouetted in the yellow light of the doorframe and invited the man inside.
Rick then got out of his car and crossed the street. He had parked almost a block away from Jill's.
He
walked up to the man's car and shone his light inside. All the forms, the nightstick and portable siren told him immediately what the man was. A police detective.
He walked back to his car. He wanted to eat something. A hamburger with lots of onions would be good. And he wanted to think about what this meant, that Jill Coffey had a friend who was a police detective.
CHAPTER 42
The call came just a few minutes after Mitch got to Jill's apartment. The kettle had just started to whistle. Jill poured water into her cup then made the long stretch to grab the phone.
Just before she heard a voice coming from the other end of the phone, Jill remembered something that Mitch had told her a long time agothat Lieutenant Sievers did his best interrogation work on the phone. Sievers felt that a phone was much more relaxing for most people, and that they therefore tended to tell you more than they might have in person. Lieutenant Sievers, Mitch said, had received more than half a dozen murder confessions over the phone during his twenty-some years on the force.
'This is Lieutenant Wayne Sievers.'
'Good evening, Lieutenant.'
A pause. When he spoke, he sounded irritated. 'Our mutual friend Mitch Ayers told you I'd be calling, I assume.'
'Yes. Yes, he did.' She put her hand out and Mitch took it.
'You know about Eric Brooks?'
'Yes, I do. I'm still having a hard time making myself believe it.'
'Why's that?'
'I saw him just a few hours ago and he was alive. I still can't believe'
'Were you two alone?'
'Yes.'
'What was his mood?'
'Oh, he wasEric. You know.'
'No, I guess I don't know, Miss Coffey.'
'There was always something Eric wanted, and he always seemed agitated when he couldn't have it.'
'Was there anything in particular he wanted this evening, Miss Coffey?'
'Not that I know of.'
'Did he want you, Miss Coffey?'
She looked at Mitch. He made a big Happy Face, indicating she should do the same.
'I've already talked to some of his co-workers, Miss Coffey. They told me that he had always been interested in you romantically.'
'I wouldn't say "romantically."'
'Oh, then what would you say?'
'Sexually. But I didn't take that as any kind of compliment.'
'Why not?'
'Because Eric was fascinated with any woman who wouldn't sleep with him. I suppose he just couldn't imagine how we could say no to all his charms.'
'Was he charming, Miss Coffey?'
'He could be. But he could also be very manipulative and cynical.'
'Why did you two split up as partners?'
'There's no easy answer to that.'
'Then give me a complicated one.'
'Well, there was the sexual problem.'
'That being what exactly?'
'That he kept trying to get me into bed.' She looked at Mitch and shrugged. She felt as if she were saying the wrong thing.
'I see.'
'And we had argued a lot about the types of work I was doing. I'm a photographer and that's what I love doing and that's what I wanted to do, but Eric was trying to turn me into some kind of executive. I didn't want that.'
'I'm told you had very stormy arguments.'
'I can't deny that.'
'Did you have an argument tonight?'
She hesitated. 'I wouldn't characterize it as an argument.'
For the first time, a frown wrinkled Mitch's forehead.
'Then how would you characterize it?'
'Eric wanted to seduce me.'
'And you didn't want him to?'
'No, I didn't.'
'What happened?'
'Nothing, really. Before I went up there tonight, I'd had some hope that maybe Eric had changed. You know, grown up a little.'
'But he hadn't?'
'No. He wasEric.'
It was all clear, of course, how Eric had forced a kiss on her and how she'd slapped him. She wanted to tell Lieutenant Sievers about this but every time her lips began to form the words
Her slapping him.
And storming out.
And shortly thereafter, Eric murdered…
Jill remembered what Mitch had said about Lieutenant Sievershow he was one of those cops who pursued the first serious suspect he came upon. She'd heard about cops like that. They spent all their efforts making a case against one person while not considering any other suspects.
So she didn't tell him about Eric's kiss, or her slapping him afterward.
'So you weren't intimate tonight?'
'Not just tonight, Lieutenant. We were never intimate.'
'How long were you there?'
'Fifteen minutes, something like that.'
'Did you see anybody else in the offices?'
'No.'
'Did you see anybody in the lobby or on the elevator?'
'No.'
'Did Eric receive a call when you were there?'
'No. But'
'But what, Miss Coffey?'
'When I first arrived'
'Yes?'
'There was a young woman just leaving Eric's office.'
'Could you describe her, Miss Coffey?'
Jill described her.
'Did she see you, Miss Coffey?'
'No, I don't think so.'
'Then she left?'
'Yes.'
'Did everything seem all right between them?'
'When I first got there, I waited outside Eric's door. I just heard the tail end of their conversation.' She told the Lieutenant everything she'd overheard.
'So Eric seemed angry?' the Lieutenant asked.
'No, that's too strong. Combative is more like it.'
'That's a strange word to describe a social relationship.'
'Not where Eric was concerned. He made a lot of sexual demands on youa lot of innuendo, a lot of what he considered to be sly hintsand you had to fight back. Combative isn't too strong a word for how it felt.'
'So you saw this young woman there and then not again?'
'Once more.'
'When?'
'As I was leaving his office. I walked to the elevator, and she was standing there waiting for one to arrive.'
'You're sure the outer office was empty?'
'As far as I could see.'
'The elevators there have very distinctive bell tones. Did you hear the elevator bell?'
'No.'
'You're positive?'
'Positive.'
'And on the way down?'
'I saw nobody.'
'And you never actually saw this woman get on the elevator? You just saw the door close?'
'That's right.'
'So when you left, Eric Brooks was alive.'
'Very much so.'
'And you went where, then, Miss Coffey?'
'Straight home.'
'And you've been there ever since?'
'Yessir.'
'I appreciate all this, Miss Coffey.'
'We're done?'
'For tonight, anyway. I'm sure I'll have follow-up questions.'
'Lieutenant Sievers?'
'Yes.'
'I didn't kill him.'
'I'm glad you didn't, Miss Coffey.'
'I want you to believe me.'
'You seem like a very nice person, Miss Coffey.'
'One more time so there can be no misunderstanding: I did not kill Eric Brooks.'
'I'm writing that down in my notebook. ''Miss Coffey says she did not kill Mr Brooks." There, duly noted, Miss Coffey. I hope you get a good night's sleep.'
Then he was gone.
And Jill sat in the echoes of their conversation feeling very much the way Lieutenant Sievers wanted her tolike a murderer.
***
'Ceremonial cocoa,' he said, 'sort of like a Japanese ritual.'
She smiled wearily.
As a little girl, whenever Jill had been feeling depressed or anxious
, her mother had made her cocoa, usually pouring it into her very special Lone Ranger mug, that Jill had inherited from her older brother Jason, who was then a military adviser in a faraway land called Vietnam.
'Still got that old mug of yours, I see,' Mitch said.
'Always with me in my darkest hour,' she said. Then, 'I wish Jason were.' Her brother had been killed in Vietnam in 1964, just as the war had become a political issue domestically.
They sat on the couch, in front of a TV screen filled with David Letterman. Neither of them paid much attention to it.
Twenty minutes ago, Jill had finished her conversation with the police but even now her stomach was in knots and she felt her hands spasm every few minutes. It was starting all over again, she thought. Even though she was innocent of murdering Eric, the press would love this story: the wife of a serial killer now suspected of being a killer herself.
'I appreciate you making me the cocoa,' Mitch said gently. 'It tastes great.'
She looked at him. 'Like the old days?'
'Just like the old days.'
'They were good days, that's for sure.' Her right hand rested on the knee of his dark corduroy jeans.
'Best days of my life, Jill. They really were.'
She started to move her hand but he gripped it. 'This is kind of like high school. I want to make a pass but I'm afraid to.'
She smiled. 'I guess I'm feeling the same way. I want you to make a passbut then again, I don't want you to make a pass.'
'We don't need to make love. I'm not asking for that.'
'I know you're not, Mitch. It's just I'mafraid. We get close again and you'll leave.'
'I want to marry you, Jill.'
She laid her head against the back of the couch, stretched her long legs out on the coffee table and said, 'Could we just sit here and hold hands for awhile?'
'Sure.'
'And just listen to Letterman?'
'Sure.'
She laughed. 'You're awfully agreeable for a cop.'
'They're making us take all these public relations courses. Whole new approach. We kill people with kindness instead of bullets.'
'Does it work?'
'Not so far. The public I'm trying to kill won't even let me kiss her.'
'Maybe she will in the next fifteen minutes or so.'
'You want to synchronize watches?'
She laughed again. 'God, that feels great.'
