A taint in the blood (32 page)

Max drained his martini with the air of a man who knew that was all he was going to get, and grinned his evil grin at the woman sitting across from him. "Because Wanda Gajewski was the straw that broke the camel's back. She was the reason Victoria divorced Eugene."

Kate called Brendan and in five minutes had an address to go with Wanda's name. "She's got a phone number," Brendan told her, "but it's unlisted." He gave her that, too. "Anything you want to tell me, Kate?"

"I'm wading through a pit of snakes and they all bite."

"Okay, not loving the visual," Brendan said.

"Not loving the reality, either," Kate said, and hung up.

Wanda's house was in Windermere, the split-level four-bedroom, two-bathroom floor plan so dear to the hearts of developers during the sixties and seventies. Kate pulled into the driveway and knocked on the door. No answer.

She went next door, same floor plan, different paint job. No answer. Same thing with the house on the other side. It was a sad day when the women had to go to work outside the home and not be there when Kate needed answers to questions.

She went across the street to a third house, this one with the biggest Winnebago Kate had ever seen parked in the driveway, and struck gold. The door opened at the first knock. A plump woman with thick white hair cut short stood there, dressed in brightly flowered polyester trimmed with plaid braid in rainbow hues. Kate blinked involuntarily, and the woman chuckled. "Pretty, aren't I? 'Dayglo Diane,' that's what my friends call me. But we need something to brighten up these long, dreary arctic winters, don't you think?"

It was only August, but Dayglo Diane wasn't really wanting an answer. "Come in, come in," she said, sweeping Kate irresistibly inside, "you, too, little doggy," and she patted Mutt on the head. Mutt didn't quite know how to take that and looked at Kate with a quizzical eye.

"I saw you knocking at Wanda's house. Are you looking for her? She's probably at work you know. Would you like some iced tea? I always think there's nothing like iced tea on a hot day, with lashings of lemon and of course simply packed with ice, don't you?"

Kate found herself ensconced on a wide couch in front of an entertainment center bristling with electronics. There were four remotes on the coffee table. Where was Bobby Clark when she needed him? Mutt was sitting next to her, one ear cocked toward the kitchen, as if to say, She's still in there. There's still time to get out of here.

But then their hostess bustled in, carrying a large and extremely well-laden tray and set it down on the coffee table. "Sugar? No? Not even phony sugar? Imagine that. Here's a nice biscuit for you, doggy." Mutt took the treat gingerly in her teeth, lips drawn back as far as they would go so as not to be contaminated. A snack for Mutt meant something with fur or feathers, something usually going in the opposite direction as fast as possible, something requiring pursuit. Except for Bernie's beef jerky, Mutt didn't hold with processed pasteurized anything, especially if it contained the hair and bones and hooves of any animal she had not caught and killed herself. She probably wanted Kate's case solved even more than Kate did, because when it was solved, they could both head back to the Park, where nobody yelled at you for chasing the geese or harassing the moose. She held the biscuit in her teeth, looking pained, until Kate took pity and told her hostess, who had yet to introduce herself by her full name, that Mutt was allergic to dog biscuits.

"Oh my, how simply dreadful, I've never heard of such a thing, well, what can I get her, let me just—"

"She's fine," Kate said, staying her hostess with one hand on her arm. "I—"

"—get you some cookies, I just got back from driving the Alcan up from Grand Junction, that's in Colorado you know, and whenever I come through Canada I lay in supplies, you know you can't get Dare cookies in this country and they are just the absolute best cookies there are, try one of these Maple Leafs, you're just going to love them—"

"—was wondering—"

"—and then of course I have to lay in a supply of two-two-two's—you know those marvelous aspirin they have there that that silly old FDA won't let us have in this country, the Canadians are so much saner about drugs than we are, I've thought about immigrating, really I have, did you know that the Yukon is actively soliciting immigrants, I've half a mind to fill out an application, the reason I know about this I came back by way of Dawson City and there were advertisements in all the papers asking for qualified people to become Canadians, and I'm sure I'd qualify, after all Mr. Hockness left me quite well off, dear man, and of course I came home by way of the Top of the World Highway, have you ever driven that road my dear, well you ought to. There is nothing between you and the sky—"

"—if you know—"

"—and though you wouldn't think to look at it my Winnebago can handle some pretty rough road, so we just turned right at the Y and went up to Eagle, what a charming little town, if you've never been you should really go, although I couldn't believe it when I saw the Holland America bus in front of me, my dear, the road, there are places when I swear if you went off it you'd fall five hundred feet before you fell into the Fortymile River—"

"—Wanda Gajewski," Kate said loudly, because it seemed the only way to be heard.

"Of course I know Wanda, dear, I told you, I saw you knocking on Wanda's door, and then of course I saw you knocking on Genevieve's door and then Margaret's door but of course they both work during the day, all three of them do, they're never home hardly ever at night either, sometimes I wonder why they own houses at all, but Margaret owns her own flower shop and makes a good living from it, too, and you'll never guess but Genevieve is a police officer, can you imagine, how adventurous of her! And Wanda certainly is old enough to retire why she's as old as I am, although you'd never know it to look at her, she's been dyeing her hair for the last thirty years, even if she stopped dating after the trial although I must say she's kept her figure marvelously well—"

"After the trial," Kate, desperate and her mouth full of Dare Maple Leaf Cream, said thickly. "After the trial, she stopped dyeing her hair?"

"Oh, you know about the trial, my, what a dreadful thing, Wanda's parents were good friends of mine and they were so mortified, all those reporters all over the place and people taking your picture—" the sparkle in her hostess's eye told Kate that she hadn't minded the attention "—of course they all wanted to know all about Wanda and I couldn't lie, could I, no, certainly not, I was raised to tell the strict truth or my mother would know the reason why and my father would get out the belt, ours was a very traditional home, my dear, you look Native, are you Native, you must be with that beautiful black hair, it just shines like coal in the sun, it was the first thing I noticed when I looked out the window and saw you on Wanda's doorstep, but why don't you let it grow, dearie, her hair is a woman's crowning glory you know, it used to be we'd keep it up during the day and then let it down at night when only our husbands would see it, that's the way it should be but you young girls nowadays have your own ideas about things and I suppose—"

"Wanda has a job?" Kate said. It was rude, but there really wasn't any other choice. She wasn't eating any more cookies, either, she didn't care if this woman stocked every one that Dare made.

"Of course she does, and a good one, too, with the state, you know, down at the new courthouse, in fact I think she might be clerking for a judge now, if I understood her—wait, where are you going, but you haven't finished your tea!"

Wanda Gajewski was sitting behind a large desk in a plush foyer. "Yes?" she said pleasantly when Kate came in.

"Wanda Gajewski?" Kate said.

"Yes. May I help you?"

"My name is Kate Shugak. I'm a private investigator, hired by Charlotte Muravieff to look into the death of her brother William."

"But he was-"

"Killed thirty-one years ago," Kate said, "yes, I know."

"And Charlotte is dead; she was killed by a hit-and-run driver—"

"Day before yesterday, yes, I know that, too."

"And Charlotte's mother was convicted of setting the fire that killed her son," Wanda said, her fine-skinned broad brow wrinkled.

Dayglo Diane was right, Wanda Gajewski had kept her figure marvelously well. Kate now understood completely the reverence in Max's tone when he'd spoken of her. Her spectacular breasts were displayed to advantage in a blue twin-sweater set, and her equally spectacular long legs in a pencil-slim black calf-length skirt. Their length was enhanced by the three-inch heels she wore. It made Kate's feet hurt just to look at them.

Her hair was a rich chestnut brown, which set off her pale skin. Her eyes were large and thickly lashed and carefully made up. Pearl studs in her ears matched the string of pearls around her neck. She looked like Coco Chanel must have looked on a very good day. She reminded Kate of every Doris Day movie Kate had ever seen, with or without Rock Hudson, back before everyone knew Hudson was gay.

She was enough of a knockout now. In her teens, she must have been breathtaking.

"Yes," Kate said, "Victoria was convicted of the crime. But Charlotte didn't think her mother did it, and she hired me to find out who did. I was doing a little research at the library, and I came across your name."

"How did you find out where I worked?"

"Your neighbor told me you worked at the state courthouse."

"Margaret?"

Kate shook her head. "A woman across the street."

"Dayglo Diane," Wanda said with a wry smile. "She's the only one of us home at this time of day."

"She is colorful," Kate said, matching Wanda's smile. "Look, it's almost five. Could I buy you a cup of coffee, and ask you some questions? I'll try not to take up too much of your time."

Wanda was silent for a moment.

"Please," Kate said.

Wanda said finally, "I suppose anyone who runs the Dayglo Diane gauntlet and survives deserves a hearing." There was a smile in her eyes that had Kate revising the "bimbo" label she had had ready to stick on Eugene Muravieff's mistress's file.

Kate got Mutt and they walked down past the old federal building, bought coffee from M.A., and sat on the grass. The tourists, mostly retired people bundling up against the sixty-two-degree temperature in jackets, hats, and thick socks, grazed through the carts hawking T-shirts silk-screened with the legend
unless you're the lead dog, the view never changes,
tiny seals carved from ivory, and necklaces made of strands of small round garnets so hard-polished, they looked almost black. They mingled with workers from downtown offices dressed in suits and ties, many of them pausing for a moment to turn their faces up to the sun, eyes closed, determined to catch every last ray because they knew the first snow could be less than a month away.

Echoing Kate's thoughts, Wanda said, "I wonder how many of these we have left?"

"Feels good," Kate said, closing her own eyes briefly. Mutt, lying on the grass next to her, pulled her head back in an enormous yawn. Kate heard a clicking sound and looked up to see a woman dressed in navy polyester pants with a matching bomber jacket and a white knit cap pulled down over gray hair lowering a camera. "Thanks so much!" the woman trilled, and trotted off toward a man of the same age who was staring yearningly toward F Street Station and the bar visible through its window.

"You're a tourist attraction," Wanda said.

Mutt looked bored. Kate shook her head and took a sip of coffee. It was excellent, rich and strong.

Maybe it was Kate's refusal to get mad at the tourist. Maybe it was her appreciation of the sun and the coffee. Maybe Wanda thought that something that had happened over thirty years before couldn't hurt her. Whatever it was, without prompting Wanda began to talk. Her voice was low and precise, unfaltering, unembarrassed. She laid things out in chronological order, stating the facts without bias or self-pity.

"I was dating William," she said, "and then he brought me home, and I met Eugene. We were attracted to each other, but he was married, and I didn't do that kind of thing."