by Kate Wilhelm
He groaned. Even here. Even here in this pretty little college town. He suddenly felt old and tired, and he stepped back into the room and closed the drapes. In bed again, he gently pulled Constance closer and she murmured something in her sleep. He held her and breathed in her fragrance and felt the warmth of her breath. It was a long time before he fell asleep again.
10
THAT MORNING WHEN CHARLIE DROVE BY, the entire park had crime scene tape around it. There were several clusters of people on the other side of the street, most of them college age, watching, excited probably, maybe frightened. There were no children on swings, no early bathers in the water, no one in sight in the park except two uniformed sheriff’s deputies. Most likely a couple of others were still around, if out of sight, looking under every bush without knowing exactly what they were searching for. Possibly a weapon. You know it when you see it, Charlie thought as memories surfaced.
Constance knew what the crime scene tape meant as well as he did and averted her gaze. Such beautiful music defiled, she thought with a surge of anger mixed with even greater sadness.
Neither of them commented on the scene as Charlie drove to the home improvement store, where he sought out chains and a lock while Constance collected plastic bags and thin latex gloves. Then, driving on the highway, they both watched for Motel 6, where Pamela said she was staying. Her car was not in sight.
“If she believes the checks are already out of the house, why do you suppose she keeps going back?” Constance said.
“Curiosity. Just making sure. Not entirely sure she’s right. Afraid if she’s wrong she’ll miss out. What drives a woman like her is money. She wants hers. A born hustler who has honed her skills. I bet she works the casinos.”
“You mean as a waitress or a dealer in a casino?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.”
Sometimes Constance found herself wishing she could see what he did, understand some things without asking a question the way he did, but mostly she was glad that she couldn’t. Almost as an afterthought she said, “Pamela was born a perfectly normal baby and whatever she is now is the result of God alone knows what.”
Charlie patted her thigh without comment. She had her way of knowing people. He had his.
At the Bainbridge house again, Constance left her parcel in the car with her purse and Charlie took the bag with the chain and lock inside and put it on the dining room table.
“Want to see an attic with me?” he asked.
She nodded and they walked to the stairs. Pamela came after them.
“You mean you’re actually going to do something?” she said in the heavily sarcastic tone she had adopted when speaking to them, “What a surprise.”
“You want to see an attic, too?” Charlie said. “More than welcome.”
“I’ve seen the attic.” She trailed after them.
They went up a second flight of narrower stairs to look over an empty attic festooned with spiderwebs, carpeted with dust. Charlie shrugged and went back down to the second floor.
“Anything else up here?” he asked Constance.
She pointed to Howard Bainbridge’s room. “Just a quick look around,” she said, going inside.
Charlie strolled into the bedroom that Paley was using. Pamela chose to stay with him. “Nothing in here,” she said. “I’ve been through it every day.”
Ignoring her, not mentioning that he had looked through it also, albeit not every day, he glanced inside a drawer. Folded shirts, socks, two neckties. “Who does the laundry?” he asked.
“He takes his to town to get it done. The rest of us use the washer and dryer in the basement. Why pay for a Laundromat when that stuff’s already here? Then the ape paws through it all on my way out.”
He walked past her to the bathroom and opened the cabinet over the counter. Toothpaste, low dose aspirin, prescription medication for a thyroid condition, Pepto Bismol, razor blades, Band-aids, mouthwash. A drawer under the cabinet held only two towels. He closed it and walked out again without comment.
“I told you, Meiklejohn, they’re not in the house. I’ll be home, at the motel tonight, after ten. Let’s talk.”
“Why are you here if you know so much?” he asked in the hall, waiting for Constance.
“I don’t want them to suspect that I know. Come over, we’ll have a drink and talk about it. I have some ideas.” She put her hand on his arm. “We can do it together.”
She jerked her hand away as Constance came out of Howard’s room. “Tonight,” Pamela said and walked away fast.
“In the nick of time, I believe,” Constance said as Pamela hurried down the stairs.
“She has some ideas.”
“I’m sure she does. Done?”
“Yep. Time to move the file cabinet.”
Downstairs again, they both went to the library where they found Stuart studying the shelved books and making notes. He snapped his notebook shut when they entered.
“I had the crazy idea that maybe the way the books are arranged might be a clue. A message in the first letters of titles or authors. Pointless,” Stuart said dispiritedly with a touch of embarrassment.
“Want to give me a hand?” Charlie said. “I’ll move the file cabinet back in here where it was before.” He pointed to an indentation on the carpet at the end of the shelves. “But first we’ll take out the drawers, move them separately. Game for it?”
“Sure. At this point if you wanted me to go cut the grass with manicure scissors, I’d jump at the chance just to have something to do. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Did Ted make it back last night?” Charlie asked as they walked from the room.
“Yeah. He and Lawrence are in the television room growling and snapping at each other.
Nothing serious,” he added quickly. “It seems to be the way they communicate. Ted growls and Lawrence comes back with a snappy one-liner.”
Charlie tapped on Paley’s door, opened it, and walked in. Paley was at the desk as before with an open book and a legal pad. A second open book had another legal pad on it, as if a placeholder. He put down his pen and sat up straighter without a word, his face set in hard lines, a deep crease on his forehead, his mouth as tight as a mouth could be drawn. He had taken on the appearance of a cardboard cutout.
“Good afternoon,” Charlie said to him. There was no response. “First the drawers,” he said to Stuart. “Let’s set them down over there, out of the way.” He motioned toward the wall with the boxes, then went to move one to make more room. The box had several upright books in it, the others were empty. He moved the one with books, careful not to cause a book to fall over. Easier to count that way, he knew, to make certain Paley left with no more books than he had brought in.
Stuart took out the top drawer and set it on the floor. The filled drawer was heavy, but he showed little or no signs of strain. When Charlie pulled the next one almost all the way out, Stuart took hold of the end of it. “No point in both of us having a backache tomorrow,” he said, and they carried it together to place on top of the other one. When all the drawers were stacked, they lifted the cabinet and took it to the library where it matched perfectly the indentations on the carpet. Pamela watched closely all the way. One by one they returned the drawers to the cabinet. Leaving with the final drawer, Charlie said, “Thanks, Mr. Paley.”
The attorney remained frozen in place.
“I think he’s a bit constipated,” Charlie said in a low voice to Stuart, who looked as if he was biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “You want to pull that door closed?” Charlie said to Pamela when she stepped aside. She shut it hard.
In the library with the file cabinet restored, Constance handed Charlie the chain. He put it through the drawer pulls, and reached for the lock. After he locked it, he put the key in his pocket.
/> “Why’d you do that?” Pamela demanded. “The guys went through every folder already.”
“I’ll look through his tax records, see if he kept up to date, if he was delinquent. You report a tax cheat, you get a reward. Didn’t you know that?”
She glared at him and stamped away down the hall. At that moment Paley entered the library, looked hard at the file cabinet, inspected the lock, and walked away without a word.
“I’ll toss that and wash my hands,” Charlie said, taking the bag Constance was holding. “Did you get the receipt?”
She nodded and he strode down the hall toward the kitchen.
“Actually you could pull all the drawers out together and have a crack at the top one,” Lawrence said from the doorway.
“And you’d find files labeled auto parts, auto supplies, auto shows, and so on,” Stuart said. “God, he must have kept a record of everything he ever did.” He shook his head. “I’m going to heat up leftovers before Alice gets here.”
“I’m with you,” Lawrence said. “She tosses everything that’s in the fridge from yesterday the minute she walks in,” he said to Constance. “We had to talk her into leaving stuff at least overnight. You gotta be quick or that’s it. Alice doesn’t like garbage smelling up her kitchen.”
When he started to walk down the hall to the kitchen, Constance went with him. “Lawrence,” she said, “I understand that you’re a consultant. What do you consult about?”
He grinned. “How to conduct yourself at a job interview, how to answer certain questions, how to take tests, what to expect for this and that, how to prepare for SAT tests, just whatever it takes to move up on the ladder of success. I’m good at it and it beats working.”
She didn’t miss an ironical glint in his eyes.
Charlie appeared then, waved to her, and walked to the front door and out.
Pamela started to follow him, but was stopped when Mac moved in front of the door. With a scowl she turned to Constance to demand, “What’s he up to out there?”
“When he comes back, ask him,” Constance said.
Charlie walked to his car and rummaged in the bag Constance had left on the seat. He found a small spray-paint can, closed and locked the car door, and continued on his way to the side of the house. Two garbage cans were chained to a rack. Quickly he opened one and sprayed yellow paint on the white plastic bags inside, then did the same thing to the second can. Satisfied, he tossed in the spray paint.
When he reentered the house, Pamela was waiting. “What are you up to out there?”
“Making sure the garbage cans are bear proof,” he said, walking to the kitchen with her close at his side. “Did you know that bears roam this neck of the woods? Black bears,” he added. “I don’t think you’re supposed to run if you encounter one, but I’m not a real authority on bears. I’ve heard that they’ve been fed so much, probably by tourists who think they’re cuddly, that they’ve become like the man who came to dinner. They expect their full share.”
“I know what you were doing and you’re a little late for the party,” she said.
“I think I read that it’s a mistake to try to climb a tree because they can outclimb you,” Charlie said. “Something else to keep in mind.”
“You think you’re so goddamn cute!” she snapped and crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator.
Charlie looked at Constance, inclined his head toward the back door and terrace and she nodded. Together they went to sit at the table under the shade umbrella. “Okay with you if we hang out until Alice gets here?” he asked. “Then I’ll treat you to a lavish lunch.
“You could probably join the scavengers in the kitchen,” she said. “You really want to find out what happened in the park last night, don’t you?”
He sighed. “I’ll wait for the lavish lunch. She’ll be here in half an hour or so,” he said without answering her question. There was no need to answer it, he well knew. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”
It was. Constance found herself pitying Howard Bainbridge. Enough money to do whatever he wanted, enjoy the benefits of a successful career, and yet he had chosen to live like a hermit, cutting himself off from the world, his family, unable to appreciate any of the rewards he might have had. A barren, bleak house that could have been a delight, this lovely terrace that obviously had been wasted on him.
She could hear the rise and fall of voices from the kitchen and catch phrases now and again. She heard Pamela’s voice, apparently close to the door, “Your wonder boy is out there taking a nap. How much an hour for him to snooze on the job?” Her voice faded. She heard Lawrence laugh, and Ted’s deeper voice. She let them fade from awareness and thought about the various things she and Charlie had learned, what was yet to be done. He was on his track, she knew, and she was on hers, and they were going to merge to become a single track. She wasn’t sure that Charlie was convinced about that part, but she knew it had to be.
Then she heard Lawrence say, “Hi, Alice. See you around.”
Charlie sat up at that moment, nodded to her, and they both stood and went to the kitchen. Stuart was at the table with an open notebook, shielding it with one hand as he studied something. Pamela was hovering near him. Lawrence was at the door to the hall, and Alice was already taking bowls from the refrigerator and setting them on the counter.
“What happened in the park last night?” Charlie asked her.
Although she appeared startled, her eagerness to talk was apparent. She nodded as if in satisfaction and closed the refrigerator door. “A girl got killed,” she said in a dramatically low voice. “Her head was bashed in. They found her body and had police all over the place. She’s new here and they had to call Debra Rasmussen to find out who she was and what she’s doing here. She went someplace to meet her sister. Eve, they say her name was. Eve something.”
Stuart made a low inarticulate cry and jumped up from the table. “Jesus! Eve? I met her!”
It seemed that the kitchen suddenly was crowded. Pamela was there, and behind her Ted and Tricia had entered. Alice had a curious little smile on her face.
Charlie looked at Stuart. “You met her where? When?”
“At the supermarket. I saw her in the store, and then outside. A guy was hassling her and I told him to back off. Then I walked to her apartment with her.”
“You helped her,” Pamela whispered. She stared at him, wide-eyed and pale. “And now she’s dead. It’s the curse!”
“God in heaven!” Alice cried and clamped her hand to her mouth.
Stuart wheeled about and yelled at Pamela, “You stupid, ignorant idiot! You and your goddamn curse! Just shut the fuck up!”
“Howie told me about it,” Pamela yelled back at him. “He knew it was real!”
“I talked to Dad last night and he said you were never alone with him. He never said a word about a stupid curse.”
“I had a drink with him later,” she said. “He told me plenty, and he knew the curse was real. It is real. You Bainbridge men are poison! All of you! You’re poison!” She turned and ran from the room.
Constance felt repulsed by the avid expression of satisfaction and malice on Alice’s bony face. She took Stuart by the arm and shook him. His arm was as hard as wood. “Let’s go outside, get a breath of air, and you tell us about it,” she said.
They all went out to the terrace, leaving Alice in the kitchen. At the round table, Tricia sat by Stuart, Charlie and Constance in the other two chairs, and Ted and Lawrence stood by.
“Now, start from the beginning,” Charlie said.
“Yeah. I had a little shopping to do and left here before you did. I saw her, Eve, in the store. I noticed because she is… she was pretty. Young. I thought she was a student. When I went outside, she was there with a guy talking to her, in her face, backing
her up until she was against the store. He grabbed her arm and that’s when I went over and told him to back off. He left and we watched him get in his car, a BMW convertible, but he didn’t leave. She was shaken up and I said I’d walk to her car with her, but she hadn’t driven, so I said if she wanted me to, I’d walk home with her. We walked to her apartment, I watched until she got inside, and then I came back to the house here. I wanted to get something to eat before I went back to my camp to change clothes before going to the concert in the park.”
“Did Eve say who the guy was, what was going on?”
Stuart shook his head. “I didn’t ask her and she didn’t say.”
“What did you talk about?” Charlie asked.
“Nothing. Swimming. She said she swims. She swam every day at her end of the lake and I swam at the other end every morning. Things like that. She said she’d only been here a couple of weeks, that she had a job at the college. From Connecticut. I asked her if she’d be at the concert and she said she hadn’t made up her mind about it. Like I said, nothing. The way you talk to someone you just ran into. Nothing meaningful. Not a word about the other guy.”
“Did you see her at the concert?”
He shook his head. “I was with Tricia. There was a crowd and it was dark mostly. I wouldn’t have seen her unless we planned to meet somewhere and we didn’t.”
“What color was the convertible?”
“Wine, burgundy. He was about my height, dark hair, maybe forty or a little younger.”
“At the store, were you close enough to hear what they were saying?”
Stuart started to shake his head, then nodded. “At first I didn’t pay much attention. It looked like a quarrel between a guy and a girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. Then he said something like she just wanted her schoolgirl interviews. That’s when he grabbed her arm. Charlie, I don’t think she was afraid of him, not at first, not until he got mad and grabbed her. Then she was scared, not before. Before that it was as if she just couldn’t stand him, then she got afraid. Walking home she kept looking over her shoulder and rubbing her arm.”
