O
n Saturday morning Barbara called David. “You said Darren would be pleased with your progress, and were you ever right! He wants to see you tomorrow. Game?”
“Okay,” he said. “I'll be here.”
“Good. Also, is it okay if we bring Amy with us? I haven't asked her yet, so it's up to you.”
There was a long pause. “Barbara, why are you doing this? Pushing her on me, like this. You know as well as I do that it's no good, and I suspect you could come up with the same reasons I have.”
“Maybe she'll reach that same decision in time, but I can't make it for her. Is it okay?”
After another pause he said, “Sure, why not,” and hung up.
Good old David, she thought, disconnecting. Nothing more to say, hang up.
She picked up Frank at twenty minutes before two, and was surprised when he appeared with three pieces of dowel in his hand. “Your version of a heavy walking stick?” she asked.
He frowned. “My reason for going over there today.”
She shrugged and they went out to her car. As she drove she said, “Dad, is there something out in the back of her yard that you simply have to look at? Her petunias or something?”
His frown deepened. “I'll bait him,” he said. “Or whistle for him, or stand on my head and get his attention.”
She grinned. “You and Lucy could dance a polka out there.”
“As Bailey said, don't tell me how to run my business,” he said, not quite snapping at her, but close.
She drove the rest of the way silently, and he did not say another word.
Amy opened the door for them and examined Barbara's face anxiously. “Anything new?”
“Maybe,” Barbara said. “Working on it.”
“Mother's in the family room. Come on back,” Amy said.
Although Lucy appeared pleased to see them, there was also an underlying strain on her face, and shadows beneath her eyes. She looked at the dowel lengths curiously.
“This is what I mentioned on the phone,” Frank said. “Something that's been bothering me. You have too little security here, and this is the least you can do. What I'd really recommend is for you to bring in a security firm and let them install a complete system, but this is a start. One for each of the sliding doors.”
The outside door was closed that day, and he put one of the dowels in the track and demonstrated that the door could not be opened with it in place. She had hung drapes, he noticed, and that was a good move, if she remembered to close them in the evening when an outsider would be invisible, and everyone inside more or less under a spotlight.
“We've never felt unsafe here,” Lucy said in a low voice.
“Times change,” Frank said. “Is the apartment open? I'll put one in there, and the last one's for the kitchen door.”
“I'll open it for you,” Lucy said, and they walked out.
As soon as they left the room, Amy said, “Barbara, what's going on with David? He seemed different when we had lunch the other day.”
“You can ask him tomorrow,” Barbara said. “Darren wants to see him, and we'll go out again. You're invited. Another hike in the woods, a little time for a private talk, whatever. One o'clock? Are you up for it?”
“God, yes! If he'll talk about whatever it is. Probably he won't though.” She looked and sounded dismal. “Is there anything I can do to help? Anything?”
“If I think of anything, I'll certainly let you know,” Barbara said. “Promise.” She looked past Amy, out the glass door, and nodded toward it. “Look at them.” Lucy and Frank had left by the kitchen door, and were walking toward the flower border. “Get two gardeners together and that's what happens, out to inspect the petunias or something.”
“She's showing off her chrysanthemums,” Amy said, clearly not interested in what they were doing. “Barbara, is Nick Aaronson involved in some way?”
Barbara looked at her curiously. “Why do you ask?”
Amy began to study her hands, as if they were foreign to her. “First, tell me. Is he?”
“I don't think so, except for the fact that he lied in his statement to the police. I don't know why he did that.” She saw Elders join Frank and Lucy, and said, “You were right about Dr. Elders, I guess. He's ever alert, isn't he? Must have had Boy Scout training.” She glanced at her watch, twenty minutes past two. Elders was walking toward the house.
Amy said, “Let's go to the study for a minute.”
“In a second. I think he wants to come in.” Barbara went to remove the dowel as Dr. Elders tried to open the door. “Good afternoon,” she said as he entered.
He smiled and said good-afternoon, then asked, “Did you receive my messages yesterday? You didn't return my calls.”
“I know. My apologies, it was a very busy day for me.”
“I'd like a word with you,” he said with a significant glance at Amy.
“Oh? We were in the middle of something. I don't think it will be long. We can probably finish in a minute or two. In the study?” she said to Amy. To Elders she added, “I'll be right back.”
She followed Amy to the study and closed the door after them. “Now, what's on your mind?”
Amy looked miserable. “I guess it wouldn't explain why Nick Aaronson lied about the night of the party,” she said hesitantly. “I think he and Chloe had an affair, recently, not back then. I guess that wouldn't make any difference, would it?”
“You think so, or you know so?” Barbara asked.
“I know,” she said stiffly.
“Did you ever work jigsaw puzzles?” Barbara asked after a moment. At Amy's nod, she said, “You know how it stays just a thousand pieces scattered on a table for a long time, then piece by piece it begins to represent something. That's another piece, and I don't know what it means, or if it makes a difference or even if it belongs in this puzzle. But it's another piece and until you have them all, and they're all in place, the puzzle is just a bunch of disconnected bits and pieces. Thanks for telling me. I'll have to give it some thought.”
“If it doesn't fit anywhere,” Amy said in a low voice, “can you put it out of mind? You know, keep it confidential?”
Barbara nodded. “It isn't my secret to tell. There's no reason for me to divulge it if it doesn't belong in the puzzle I'm working with.”
“Thanks,” Amy said. “I guess Dr. Elders is expecting you back in the family room. I'll just hang out in here.”
Barbara walked through the hall back toward the family room and paused there in the doorway. At the far end, Elders was standing at the sliding door, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out. She had no doubt that he was watching Frank and Lucy. She took a few steps into the room and said, “I'm very sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we sit in here and talk?”
Elders spun around as if startled. “Oh, good. No problem at all waiting for a minute or two. In here is fine. You see, I think there's been a mistake. I was served with a subpoena for some mysterious reason.”
Barbara sat on the sofa and he took a chair near her. He was smiling genially.
“It wasn't a mistake,” she said. “Have you ever participated in a criminal trial?”
“Not exactly my field,” he said. He sounded as though the very idea was distasteful.
“Of course not. Few people have, and fewer know how the process works, I imagine. Let me explain. As a prosecution witness you will be asked questions that deal with the statements you already made to the investigators. Then, after Mr. McNulty is finished, the defense will be allowed to examine those same statements, ask for more explanation, for more in-depth answers, whatever seems appropriate. At that time the defense attorney is not allowed to introduce any material not already testified to. And that sometimes can present a problem if the defense has reason to ask questions the prosecution has not already referred to. Do you follow that?”
“But it seems the prosecutor will know what must be revealed.”
“To his satisfaction,” Barbara said agreeably. “But that might not be to the satisfaction of the defense attorney. Anyway, that part is called the cross-examination, simply referring to what's gone before. Then the prosecution can have a redirect examination to bring out the points he wants to make once more, after which the witness is dismissed. That's where the subpoena comes in. It allows the defense attorney to recall the witness when the defense is presenting its case. As a defense witness, especially one designated as a hostile defense witness, you may be asked questions not already referred to in order to reveal to the jury new facts that are sometimes contradictory to what has already been stated.”
“Hostile defense witness? I have no hostility toward you or the defense team.”
“But you may have information that you would prefer not to discuss, Dr. Elders.” Her cell phone rang and she glanced at her watch again. Two-forty. “Excuse me,” she said, and answered the call.
“Done,” Bailey said. “See you at the old man's house.”
“Thank you very much,” she said. “Of course, I'll get to it immediately.” She stood. “I'm terribly sorry,” she said to Elders. “That's how it's been the past few days, one thing after another.”
“Ms. Holloway, I deserve a better answer than you've given me. What kinds of questions do you propose to ask? What's on your mind? Why do you think I may have more information than my statements indicate?”
“Dr. Elders, if it would be possible for you to come to the office on Monday, I'll make certain to leave time open for you. Let's say at two in the afternoon? I'll answer your questions then, but I really must leave now.”
His lips were a tight line as he regarded her. He nodded. “I'll be there at two, and I certainly do expect some real answers. This is outrageous. To label me a hostile witness, when I'm doing all I can to cooperate with all concerned in this unfortunate business.”
Barbara nodded and went to the door. Frank and Lucy were not in sight. She walked out to the deck and back inside through the kitchen door to find her father and Lucy at a small table looking at a catalog.
“Dad, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have to leave now. The call I was expecting just came through.”
Frank looked genuinely regretful as he stood and apologized to Lucy. “And I'm sorry,” he said. “You're right, that is a wonderful catalog. Thanks for showing it to me. I'll order a copy right away. Things in there I never saw for sale before. I may end up redoing a whole section of my own garden. Ah, well, a garden is never done.”
In the car a minute later Barbara said, “Bailey has something. He'll be at the house.”
Frank told her to slow down, and they both remained silent until she pulled into his driveway. Bailey was sitting in his old Dodge in the driveway. Barbara groaned. A car like that parked on the McCrutchens' street in a nice residential section?
“Why not go with a marching band?” she grumbled as they entered Frank's house.
“Barbara, don't give me a hard time. Okay? I parked down near Franklin and walked in by way of the alley, lined with garbage cans, naturally, and wide-open.”
“Did you find it?” she asked.
“Sure. That place gave me the creeps. It looked as if the woman kicked, and he closed her door and never once opened it again. Her clothes in the closet, stuff in drawers, even a bad smell, all right there. Creepy.”
“And?”
“There's a double garage, half-used for storage, and in it a walking stick, a walker, and a wheelchair all lined up, ready to go. He has two pairs of leather shoes.”
“And a pair on his feet,” she said. “Good job. Pictures?”
Bailey scowled. “Pictures, measurements, the works. They're on the digital. Want to see them, or wait for prints?”
“As long as you have them, that's good enough. I'll want prints. Tell me about the cane.”
“Heavy oak, not a regular cane, no crook, or anything like it. A straight stick, like an English walking stick or something. It would do the job.”
“Great. Tell me something. How do I fix a phone to be a speaker phone and at the same time not allow any noticeable sound to come back through it?”
“Where?” Bailey asked.
“My office. I'll want it Monday afternoon.”
He nodded. “Monday morning I'll have a look.”
“Good enough,” she said. “And that was good work today. You didn't get caught, or shot at or anything. It must have been boring.”
He gave her a murderous look.
T
he day was brisk and sunny, but there was a smell of marine air blowing in. Rain had moved in at the coast, damping the forest fires that had ravaged the Coast Range for the past three or four weeks. Not yet, Barbara thought, sniffing the cool air, but soon. A front would come through, bring rain, and the long wet season would begin. She looked forward to it.
“For our hike,” she said to Alex, “let's go back to the surprise you led us to last year. You know the one I mean?”
He nodded but looked dubious. “Not much to see right now.”
“That's why I'd like to go,” she said.
The woods were so dry the ferns rustled like paper in the breeze blowing through them, and the lichen looked faded and dusty. Ground that had been spongy earlier in the season crunched underfoot and Barbara felt almost as if she could hear whispers in the rustling fern fronds, that if her hearing were more acute, she might hear the words,
Soon. Soon the rain will come. Soon.
Alex led the way to where a waterfall had appeared the year before, but that day, at the end of the dry summer and fall, there was no water, not even a trace, only an outcropping of rocks, a ledge, a dry streambed with a rocky bottom, obviously a water channel cut into the mountainside, fringed by dispirited brambles and salmonberries with dried fruits that looked like fired stones.
“We'll come back after a few good rains,” Barbara said when David looked at her in puzzlement. “When we come back, you'll see one of nature's gifts.” She looked at the others. “I'd like a word with David. We'll catch up in a minute.” They moved out of earshot, and she said, “You asked what I'd decide in a reversal of positions. I have an answer today that I couldn't give you beforeâI'd hang in there and wait.”
“Now you'll tell me there's light at the end of the tunnel,” he said.
“Two weeks ago, even last week I couldn't
find
the tunnel. Now I have it fixed in my sight. Don't press for more, please. And I won't say trust me. I'm too suspicious to ever trust anyone who feels the need to say that. I suspect you are also.”
He studied her face. “For now. But, Barbara, time is closing in. I have a calendar, you know.”
She nodded. “That's all I'm asking. For now. And when we all come back to this spot, you'll see what I think of as a miracle. You'll see. Let's catch up to the others.”
When they returned to town later, Darren drove to the house for Amy to get her car. They didn't go in, since he had to go to Springfield to collect Todd, who was at his mother's house for the weekend.
Amy hesitated at the car door. “I'm grateful, Barbara. Whatever you said to David must have been something good. He was so down last week, but I think you gave him hope. Thanks.”
They watched her get in her car and leave. Then Darren shifted gears to back out of the driveway.
“On to Dad's house,” Barbara said. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Darren said, but he looked tired. “The two geniuses both flunked, by the way. Just as I thought they would. We'll go on from there.”
He would write his letter to the major, with threats, reprisals, repercussions to follow, no doubt swiftly. She put her hand on his thigh as he drove to Frank's house. He covered her hand with his.
Darren dropped her off at Frank's house and left. In the kitchen, while Frank did whatever he was doing at the counter, she said, “David has no intention of being on hand for a trial. He's aware of the odds, and he's concerned that too many people will be hurt badly if they have to testify. Lucy and Amy, both directly, and Olga, although absent, will also suffer as will her daughter. He knows that, and he isn't willing to let it happen for what he sees as a lost cause.”
Frank nodded, his face grim as he turned toward her. “I know,” he said. “Do you have a time line on him?”
“No. And he isn't likely to tell us. But, Dad, I don't see any way out of this unless I take a chance. I know it's a gamble. Elders has had since Friday to worry about what I'm up to and how much incriminating evidence I might have found. I want to push him to the limit, and I don't know how he'll spring if he thinks it's over. He could try to bluff it out.”
“Or do something else,” Frank said, finishing her thought.
“It's what that something else could be that worries me,” she said. “He's an unknown factor.”
Monday morning Bailey arrived with two telephones in his old duffel bag. “Easier to do it this way,” he said, bringing them out. “They're fixed and ready to go. We'll put your phone and Shelley's in the closet for now and I'll show you how to use these. Kid stuff.”
As it turned out, it
was
kid stuff. When he told her to try it, she asked Maria to buzz her. “Thanks,” she said when she answered. “Please hold the calls for now.” She pushed a button when she hung up. “Testing, just testing,” Barbara said. “Come to the door and wave if you're receiving.” A moment later Shelley waved to her at the doorway, and she pushed the same button again, restoring the phone to normal usage. They put the other phones in her closet and she was ready for Elders.
“Bailey, will you be around, in reach later today?” she asked.
“I can be. To do what? More breaking and entering?”
“I don't know. Not yet. Just be around, in case. Okay?”
He shrugged. “Here?”
“Maybe in Danny's Juice Bar. I may want you to tag along behind Elders when he leaves, not sure yet.”
Bailey nodded, as morose as usual, but he would be there and be ready. She murmured her thanks and watched him amble out.
As soon as he was gone she called Lieutenant Dressler. “I have a lead for you in the David Etheridge assault,” she said. “It's a big one, good as gold.”
“Come on over,” he said. “I'm in the office.”
“I can't. Too many people dropping in today. Can you make it over here around two, a few minutes later? I won't take much of your time.”
He grumbled but said he'd be there, and she leaned back in her chair. Stage set for Act One, she thought, and hoped this would turn out to be a one-act play.
Elders was prompt, and he was not a happy man, frowning and thin lipped. He also looked tired, as if he needed a bit more sleep. When Barbara admitted him to her own office, both Frank and Shelley were out of sight, Shelley's door closed.
“Please,” she said, indicating one of the clients' chairs. She went behind her desk to take her own chair, ignoring his glance toward the comfortable seating arrangement on the other side of the room. Her desk was covered with papers. She shuffled a few of them together and put them inside a folder, then looked across at him.
“I told you what to expect as a defense witness,” she said. “You'll have to hold yourself in readiness to be recalled to the stand and I'll do the direct examination this time.”
“Yes, yes,” he said sharply. “I find this totally outrageous and demand to know what you think you can gain, since I'll already have testified to what little I know of this business.”
“There will be areas that have not yet been touched on,” she said. “Of course, my function is totally different from that of the prosecution. As in most trials each side has a strong belief in the rightness of the side being represented. I know David Etheridge did not murder Jill Storey, Robert McCrutchen or anyone else, and I'll be working to convince a jury of my conviction. I don't have to prove anything, but simply to give them a plausible alternative explanation as to what happened, one that they find as acceptable as the case the prosecution presents. A reasonable doubt is all that's required.”
“Just get on with it,” he snapped. “What areas are you talking about?”
Her phone buzzed and she lifted the receiver to hear Maria say her party had arrived. “Thank you,” she said. “I'll get to it right away. Please hold all calls for now.” She replaced the receiver and pushed the button.
“Sorry,” she said. “There won't be any more interruptions. One of the areas I'll explore is the matter of Jill Storey's final grades. She was quite ill that spring, and she met with her instructors to get an extension of time to complete her classes. In every case such an extension was granted, and she completed the assignments satisfactorily, except for yours. There is no indication that she completed her work for your seminars. Missing a seminar was an automatic reduction of a grade by fifteen percent, and she missed four. Automatic failure. Also, for her extension you assigned her a number of books to read, and several of them were not available locally, and would have arrived weeks too late for her to read and have enough time to write a comprehensive report. Another failure. A large part of the grade, according to your syllabus, was to assume the role of a historical figure and defend whatever position that character took in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. She never did that, apparently. Yet she was given a grade B for the class, ensuring that she would graduate and maintain a high enough grade average to keep a valuable scholarship.” She looked at him and waited for a response.
“An instructor has a great deal of discretion,” he said icily. “The syllabus is a general outline of what to expect. No one is forced to stick to it in extenuating circumstances.”
“I see,” Barbara said. “So you can explain exactly what she did to receive that grade. Very well. Another area I'll explore is your statement, repeated several times, that she was both promiscuous and a prostitute. I have not been able to verify that or find another person who can offer any substantiation whatsoever.”
“It was common knowledge,” he snapped.
“So you claimed. But if it was common knowledge surely there is someone who can verify it. Not her classmates, her roommate, coworkers, friends, no one except you has made such a statement. Can you provide any corroboration?”
“Robert told me,” he said.
“But since he's dead, I'm afraid that still won't satisfy the need for substantiation. It's simply hearsay.” She opened the file on her desk and drew out the sheet of paper Robert had drawn. “Do you recognize this? It was under Robert McCrutchen's hand when he was found dead.”
Elders glanced at it, shook his head. “He played tic-tac-toe or something.” He was watchful, and at the same time looked disdainful and impatient.
“I don't think so. See, we came across this one, also.” It was the schematic she had filled in, including an
x
on Elders's patio. “Quite apparently Robert McCrutchen was trying to determine who made anonymous calls first to the press, then to the police, to say that Jill Storey had the key to David's apartment.”
Elders stared at it without moving for several seconds, then said, “That doesn't mean a thing.” His expression did not change, and if he was alarmed, nothing he did revealed it.
“I think it does. You were so hot from all that dancing. You were very fond of dancing in those days, I understand, and you were very actively dancing the night of the party. Jill was vivacious and beautiful, wasn't she, Dr. Elders? A pleasure to dance with, a pleasure to watch. When the music stopped, you went home, but you didn't go inside your refrigerated house. You lingered on the patio to cool down. No doubt, you were nearly as hyper as the young people, invigorated, stimulated, too keyed up to go inside, go to bed. You needed a little time first. And you heard what happened on the deck. That's when you heard about the key to David's apartment, isn't it? Why didn't you admit it then? Why the anonymous calls instead of simply telling what you had heard?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said. “The newspaper had an article that said she had his key. Obviously she was sleeping with him, living with him.”
Barbara shook her head. “That didn't come from the police, the official source. It was a rumor, a tip from an anonymous caller. The police satisfied themselves about the key and never made such a claim, because it was a lie, easily proved as such. But anyone who simply heard what was said on the deck might well have believed it. You believed it.”
“I tell you, Robert was my source. He told me what happened out there. David was insanely jealous, and thought Robert was flirting with Jill. He attacked Robert because Jill Storey was his lover. That's why she had his key.”
“Strange that Robert would lie about it,” she said. “You see, there were two other eyewitnesses to that scene, both as reputable as you are, and they know exactly what was said, what happened. And it was not that.”
“That's a damn lie! No witnesses were out there!”
“What they will testify to is that Jill did sleep with Robert, and he gave her money. She was desperate for her rent. And she was equally desperate to make her grades. I ask you again, how will you account for the B grade you gave her for a course she did not complete?”
“You're accusing me of sleeping with her!”
“Of course, I am. She was desperate, beautiful, no doubt weeping, and you were also desperate, weren't you? A wife incurably ill, and a beautiful young woman willing to do anything to stay in school. Did she promise more than she gave you? Were you expecting repeat visits? Then you found out you were not the only one, and that she had David's key. You knew you had been made a fool of, used, and that you and Robert both disgusted her. That's the gist of my direct examination, Dr. Elders.”