She's Not There (19 page)

Fitzy said to him, “I'll be escorting a passenger from your boat shortly. So don't sail till we're off again. We shouldn't hold you up past your scheduled departure.”

Boat people are laid back, even ferry captains responsible for moving three hundred passengers and a hold full of vehicles including, in this morning's voyage, a stretch limo. Newlyweds were honeymooning at one of the inns. “Not to worry, officer,” the captain said. “I can make up time lost if I have to. No problem. But … uh … you going to have to draw a weapon?”

“Wouldn't think so.”

“Last time I had a cop come aboard, that's what he did. He must've been undercover. Only problem came when a dozen passengers drew theirs. Thought the cop was going to pass out, had to explain to everyone the guy wasn't a terrorist.”

Fitzy said to me, “That would be my predecessor. He never wore his uniform.” To the captain, “I doubt my perp is going to put up any fuss.”

“Glad to hear it.”

We followed him on board. Fitzy said, “We'll start topside. Doubt she'd be in the closed deck. Be needing some wind in her face is my bet.”

We climbed the stairway and went through the door onto the deck. We made a visual sweep across the faces of the passengers standing at the rail or sitting on four rows of long benches running port to bow. I'd say Fitzy and I saw her at the same time, since he nudged me the second I decided it had to be her. She was hunkered down on the far end of the back bench. She had on shorts and a tank top, a sweatshirt thrown over her shoulders—protection against the early offshore breeze. Not too different from the rest of her fellow tourists, but we couldn't miss the scratches on her arms and legs. Her eyes were red and she was puffing away on a cigarette behind a large floppy hat she'd held up to her face in deference to the
NO SMOKING
signs. Like us, she hadn't gotten any sleep.

Fitzy planted himself in front of her. She looked up. It took a moment for her to register that her imagined worst-case scenario was about to be played out. Fitzy let it sink in and then he said, “Frankly, ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you some questions, aren't I?”

She snuffed out the cigarette under her foot and stood up. “Frankly, I didn't think that pea brain would have had the guts to call you.”

“And why didn't
you
call me?”

“I was going to. Once I was home. First I wanted to extricate myself from this nightmare.”

“Would have made that call anonymously, I take it.”

“Of course. Do I look like some kind of idiot?” Her gaze turned to me. “Don't tell me I'm going to be searched.”

I said, “No.”

A little smile came to Fitzy's face. But he didn't say what he was thinking. He would be a professional cop and stifle his personality. He said to the woman, “Just come along and you can talk with me in my office.”

“And then I can go?”

“Then you can go. But a detective will meet you when the ferry docks at Point Judith.”

She breathed in, her shoulders went up, and she said, “Fuck.”

Fitzy said, “Fuck is right.”

In Fitzy's office, she added nothing of substance, only confirmed everything Fred had claimed. She'd been bored, Fred had hit on her, and she figured, What the hell. Yes, she did see a few cars go by, two or three, leaving the harbor just at the time she and Fred had left. “The headlights anyway.” But she saw none, not a single car, on Coonymus Road, not on the way to the Hollow and not on the way back either. She added, “We were going about ninety miles an hour afterward—on our way back into town—but I know I didn't see another car then because we'd probably have plowed into it. The guy was crazed. He may have great pecs, but let me tell you he was scared shitless.” She added one more detail, which also wasn't much use. “When he spotted the body down there, this character just grabbed his stuff and took off. I didn't know what he was doing. I'm yelling at him,
What's the matter with you?
but he's gone, and then when I went to pick up my stuff I saw it too. The body.”

“You made sure to gather up everything.”

“Thought so. By the time I got out of there, reached the road, Fred—I think that's his name—was already in his truck. Basically, banging his head against the steering wheel. Son of a bitch was going to take off and leave me there, except he couldn't find his keys. They'd fallen out of his pocket. Then he actually asked me to go back down with him and help him find them. I told him to go fuck himself. So he left and came right back. They were on the trail. He didn't have to go all the way down there again.” She shivered in the hot cramped office.

Fitzy said, “Too bad. Might have found his glasses.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Have you still got the clothes you had on?” He looked down toward her overnight bag.

“Sure. And they're damned dirty.”

“The detective who meets you will want them. To eliminate any fibers that weren't hers—or her killer's.”

“Killer?”

“That's right.”

“You're kidding. Isn't it more like her fault? For taking whatever it was that did that to her?”

“Maybe she didn't take anything.”

“Jesus. Then what the hell happened to her?”

“We intend to find out. And of course, like I said, we also intend to find out the identity of her killer.”

I asked her, just to cover another base, “Did Fred offer you any drugs?”

“Yeah, right. I'm the one offered
him
a joint. Looked at me like I had two heads. Said he didn't smoke funny cigarettes. Asshole. Figured the guy might offer me dinner in return. I'm one of the poorest judges of character I know.”

Fitzy said, “Are you aware it is illegal to possess marijuana?”

“Yeah, I am. But you've got bigger fish to fry, haven't you?”

“I sure do.”

“Besides, I smoked it all last night anyway. You won't find any on me.”

The last question he asked her was, “What do you teach?”

She said, “Second grade.”

Fitzy held his forehead. “What hope is there, Poppy? Tell me.”

I said, “I do wonder sometimes.” Then I told him to meet me in half an hour for breakfast at Richard's Patio. In the meantime, I'd go up to the camp and tell Irwin and the girls about Rachel.

Fitzy went off to put the woman on the nine o'clock ferry.

*   *   *

The girls were already getting the news when I arrived. From Irwin. They were in the dining hall and had just finished their yogurt and bowls of canned peaches. They knew the worst already. They were still and quiet, a few in tears. I stood at the door, listening.

Irwin had added a safari hat to his Palm Beach suit outfit. He stood behind a table as if it were a podium, a hand grasping each side. “I know you girls are of the belief that the two deceased campers were not under the influence of drugs. That someone deliberately kidnapped and hurt them. But we must not be in denial. They bought or were given an illegal substance that they took of their own free will, and their lives were ended. You will therefore be confined to the campground except for nature hikes together. There will be no more trips into town, and I have hired a guard, someone to see that no one leaves on her own. I will be calling all your parents shortly. Hopefully, once I explain the situation to them, they will not insist you return home. I will leave that decision to them. When they understand I've confirmed that the rest of you are not foolish enough to go out asking for trouble, I know they will—”

Protests rose. They tried to defend the two dead campers. But the girls were scared, their protests weak. Irwin became stern, hushed them up. “Enough of that. Face the truth. And face this. I will confiscate whatever phone you are managing to make calls from. If I find it, the owner will be confined to her house.

“Camp Guinevere will ride this out. You are all here for your own good. It is my job to make you understand, to make your parents understand, that you arrived here incapable of disciplining yourselves. Sloth and overindulgence can be conquered through discipline. I hope that by forcing discipline upon you, you will come to accept discipline as the only road to your recovery.

“Now, if the counselors will serve tea.”

He went out the back door so I circled the building to meet him.

He got right in my face. “On your own today? I take it the cop is hung over.”

I said, “Where's the guard? No one stopped me when I came in.”

“He won't be on duty during the day. Hardly necessary. He'll be here tonight after dinner. It's at night when the girls tend to sneak into town. He'll see they don't.”

I said, “Wait a minute. His job should be to protect
them
, not—”

“Exactly. To protect them. My staff and I will keep the girls under wraps during the day and he at night. Group activities every day with everyone participating, no exceptions.”

“The parents didn't pay the full tuition in advance, did they?”

“Actually, I was surprised at the number who agreed to do just that. But no, a minority will have their final payment in by the first of August. I will keep this camp operating through then, rest assured. And I happen to know there is nothing you can do about it. I know the regulations for my enterprise as set forth by the State of Rhode Island.”

He had me. He had Fitzy. He had almost all of the two dozen sets of parents who had already footed the bill. He had us all.

I said, with great conviction, “If I see one girl in town, you're closed down.”

“You won't.” Then he flashed a look of charm. “I understand your misgivings completely. It seems cruel, our method here. But if you've ever seen a dog trainer teach a dog to heel, you know the technique is to be commanding and to jerk the dog's leash suddenly and hard. A dog has limited intelligence and a choke chain is required to train him. These girls have a problem because they've been spoiled all their lives. No more coddling. Our treatment here will not hurt them, but a choke chain is in order.”

And he walked off to his Quonset hut.

The campers were coming out of the dining hall. Christen and Samantha spotted me, and the girls from Lancelot rushed over, Kate stumbling along, Elijah Leonard's face buried in her shoulder.

I told them I was sorry about Rachel. I couldn't say much more because Kate was wailing. “If only I'd ratted on her!”

I put my arm around her. “She still would have managed to find a way to leave.”

She was crying hard, shaking. “Rachel was tortured to death.”

“No, she wasn't. She took something that was very dangerous and she died from it.”

I hugged her and Kate wept into my shoulder just as Elijah Leonard wept into hers. Kate wasn't the only one in tears. Even Christen seemed on the verge. She said, “You have to be the one to call our parents, Poppy.”

The redhead Joe and I had met at the camp two nights ago stepped forward. “My parents sure as hell will listen to the FBI.”

“I intend to. Christen, if you can get to Irwin's phone line, e-mail me a list of all your names, your parents' names, and your phone numbers. The rest of you girls help her put the list together.”

They wiped their cheeks. They stood a little taller. They had something productive to do. Kate dried Elijah Leonard's face with the corner of her T-shirt. She said, “But why? How come Dr. Irwin hates us?”

“He doesn't hate you. He loves to acquire money by scheming. Instead of working for it.”

Christen said, “The downside of capitalism. Sounds like my father. Except Dad is a lot more subtle.”

The bravado was back again.

I stopped at Joe's cottage before I went on to town. He was on the phone behind a closed door. There was a fax from my director. It read
GET THE BASTARD
. He'd obviously heard from Auerbach.

I ran into Fitzy just as he was heading around behind the grocery toward the Patio. He said, “They don't like me in this place. They'll like me more now, though. That's because they like Fred Prentiss so much less. How are the girls?”

“They're shocked and they're upset. But Irwin means to see that they stay. He's determined. Most of the parents have already paid the balance of the tuitions. Christen's going to try to e-mail me the girls' phone numbers and addresses. I'm calling their parents.”

“I should just go up there and shoot the motherfucker. That'd close down the camp.”

Everyone was inside the Patio except Esther. She was usually the first one there, the first to leave. Aggie was at a table. She said, “Hey, Poppy, where's our Joe?”

“On his way. Had some catching up to do.”

“Well, my place is cleared out. Rumors are flying now. Fred's kids told everyone what happened last night. Guests went to town, got money wired to them, jumped on the ferry. Just as glad for that, have to say. Gives me a little rest. Not that I have catching up to do. Not like Joe.”

Billy said, “Wish I could've seen it. That nitwit Fred in handcuffs.”

I said, “I don't think there were any handcuffs, Billy. He wasn't arrested.”

Mick said, “Billy, I keep tellin' ya, Fred ain't no drug dealer. You know that.”

“Still needs some comeuppance, that boy. Takin' some gal down into the Hollow like that. Man is nuts. Would still like to've seen it. Even without the handcuffs.”

Willa said, “Fred gets plenty of comeuppance every minute he puts in with Doris. Now there'll be nothin'
but
comeuppance over there. He is about to become more miserable than he is already. Poppy's right. Doris says he was brought in as a material witness, that's all.”

Fitzy and I sat down just as Joe arrived. “Find the schoolteacher?”

“Found her.”

“Good.”