by Ann Marie
“Still though, don’t you think it might be possible? Someone, just for example sake, a stalker? Thinking they might be proving their own ability to protect you. From a distance, the shots came from the fence area? From a distance, would it not be possible, to interpret what was going on between the two of you, as a violent situation? One that would lead to your needing protection.” Barsky stopped and blew her nose.
“Excuse me, sorry.” She tossed her tissue into the trash can. “Have you had any stalking type incidents recently?”
“No, thankfully, not that I am aware of. What would even give you that idea?”
“You have had a stalker, or stalkers in the past, have you not?”
“Please, what is it you want me to say. I am sure you are very well aware of my past. This is not a subject I feel comfortable talking about. It happened. It is over. It is in the past. It has nothing to do with this.”
Barsky was flipping through some papers on her desk. “Ms. Dal Santo came home then, didn’t she? Right after, what was his name? The Postal Prophet?”
“Well, yes, she did.”
“Why, what made her give up everything over in the Congo?” Barsky inquired as she tossed the article in front of Josephine for her to read.
“I don’t believe she gave up that much. I asked her to come home. I needed her to come home. I...she makes me feel safe.”
“Why did she stay? Why hasn’t she ever returned? Did you not ever feel safe, not even after the Prophet was shot to death?”
Josephine looked for safety in the corners of the office. “She has no need to go back. She doesn’t need to work. I give her everything she needs.”
“You sound a little self-fulfilled Ms. Ferrero. What exactly is it that you supply her with that she can’t get over seas? Are you lovers? Is it a marriage sort of arrangement? From everything I have read on the woman, she was leading a very enriching life. She had thousands of people counting on her. Thousands of people who needed her. She needed for nothing. She supplied the people of the Congo. If I were one of her students, I would feel very angry at the prospect of her not returning. Perhaps angry enough to come here to find her and bring her home.”
“I thought you said I was the one with the stalker.”
“These are just thoughts Ms. Ferrero. You know ideas to bat around. Ms Dal Santo was attending your party when she was shot four times. I am simply trying to figure out who the target actually was.”
“I told you, she was protecting me. I should have been shot. I should be dead right now. She saved my life. She saved my life.”
“Yes, you said that once before. What is it that makes you so sure?”
“Well, I wasn’t at first. But in the video you can see, well you can’t see her face because the video was shot from the lake. But in the video you can see her look in the direction of the fence..And then she grabs me and tosses me aside.”
Josephine drifts off into the memory. Her eyes teared up and a single drop fell.
“What video?”
“You know that first shot? It looked as if it might have caught me right in the head. Right in the back of my head. But Anthony, she threw me out of the way, just in time. She took that shot in her shoulder.” Josephine closed her eyes and watched the scene over again in her head.
“Ms. Ferrero, what video? You never mentioned any video. Where is it? Ms. Ferrero? You said it was shot from the lake? Do you see the face of the shooter in the video? Ms. Ferrero, are you listening to me?” Barsky stood up behind her desk. She was just barely shouting. Her throat was on fire. She smacked her hand on the top of her desk in frustration.
Josephine jumped out of her fog. “Sorry, I guess I just drifted.”
Barsky looked at her skeptically. “Ms. Ferrero, are you taking any medication at the moment? Did the hospital prescribe anything?”
“No, I’m sorry, I just... I want to help, really. I just...if Anthony saw the person doing the shooting. Well do you think it is possible, that perhaps he saw her, you know see him? Do you think he might try and...can we get someone to sit outside her room? Do you think that would be possible?”
The change in this woman was incredible to the Lieutenant. Now it seemed as if she were a child. Barsky was not feeling well either and this was not going well. “You mentioned a video. Where is it?”
“Back at the house. Justin was headed back for it. I never thought about it. That’s where Billy was you know. He was out on the lake getting the guy with the video. That’s why he wasn’t doing his job. Well he was doing his job; just no one knew it at the time. Anthony kept saying ‘where’s Billy?’ I remember that,” She laughs mockingly at herself. “Sure, that I remember. Where’s Billy, she kept saying. She knew, you know?” Josephine was almost crying. “She knew something was wrong before it was wrong. She’s like that. She always has been. She’s always looked out for me. Always protected me. She brought me Billy. Brought him back from the Congo with her. He was my souvenir. To be my bodyguard. I guess, now that I think about it, she probably...do you think she did that so she could go back?”
“I think,” Barsky starts, handing her a tissue, “I think I need to see that video. I think we can get someone to sit outside her door and keep the men out by your house.” She looks at Ms. Ferrero with confusion.
This could not be the same woman who sat in front of her this morning. The tough, hard as stone, un-penetrable woman. “I think you should seek some professional help. I want you to know,” she came around to the front of her desk and sat in front of Josephine. “I want you to know that you’re coming in here today, now, was a good thing. You need to know that. And as soon as I can see the video, we can try to focus on the actual shooter and not the motive. You have given me several things to think about. Is there anything else you want to say right now?”
Josephine sighed. She was very tired all of a sudden. She looked up into the face of the Lieutenant and saw pity in the woman’s eyes and which angered her. She gained control of her thoughts and emotions, stood and extended her hand. Securely and firmly she shook the hand of the Lieutenant. “No, I believe that is all for now. I just want to help in any way that I can. I want Anthony to be safe. I am going to go home and take a nap before I head back to the hospital. Justin should be bringing the video up as we speak. Call me if you need anything or have any questions.” That was that. Josephine left the Lieutenant to stare at her back in amazement.
Barsky was beginning to think that Ms. Ferrero was the best actress she had ever witnessed. She too felt the need for a nap. It was nearly four in the afternoon. She could go home and come back if and when the video ever showed up. She went out to the front desk and instructed the desk clerk to find someone to sit by Ms. Dal Santos door. Also she requested the continuance of the Ferrero guard. Leaving word to call her at home if and only if the video or the suspect was brought in, she headed home to bed.
Chapter 19
Chester prided himself in being completely efficient. Even at his age he felt neatness counted. Everything needed to be in its place. No fuss, no muss, organized to the “T”. So it was no surprise to himself that he broke out into a cold sweat, when tossing his shirt over the dining room chair, the small wad of paper appeared. Nothing was to leave the grounds of the house without expressed written consent, and or, legally authorized documentation. So close to retirement and he could lose it all for this little finger football. How could he have let this happen? He glanced at his watch and sighed dejectedly. There was not enough time to drive all the way back to the house that evening. Even if he made it before lock down, there would still be an explanation needed. No, it would be best if he waited until his shift tomorrow. He could replace it then without anyone noticing. As he bent down to retrieve the fallen object something about it caught his eye. He had not noticed it earlier.
Along the inner fold there seemed to be some writing. He sat himself at the dining room table and stared intently at the object in his hand. His curiosity was getting the better of h
im. He could sense that it would be just a matter of time before he opened the wad of paper. Unfolding it, though could have serious side effects. Someone would surely notice it had been tampered with. What if he could not get it folded back the same way again. Why did he have to bring this damn thing home with him? He had gone back to the records room with the intent of picking it, from the corner it fell, and putting it back where it had come from. There was a fire drill; the wad went into his pocket. He had no choice at the time but to exit the building immediately. He should have returned as soon as the building was cleared, but he had forgotten all about it. Like so very many things these days. His memory was going. His age was catching up with him. ‘Harold was to blame for this.’ Chester thought to himself. If only he had retrieved the item himself. After all it was Harold who flicked the wad into the corner in the first place. ‘Harold, the poor guy looked so worn down.’ Chester glanced at the wad. He stood it up on its corner and started to flick it himself, when he stopped short. He picked up the wad and held it, with both hands, up close to his eyes, trying to peer into the fold.
With the wad in hand, he got up from the table and walked into his kitchen. The wall phone was just to the left of the entrance way. He dialed information and requested Harold’s number. He placed the wad on the top of his phone while he wrote down the number on the pad, which was hanging on the wall, next to the phone. He dialed the number and waited as the connection was made. The phone rang three times before the answering machine picked up. Chester did not wait for the whole message before hanging up. He hated answering machines. As he replaced the receiver he glanced at the wad. “Shit, why me?” He dialed the number again, this time leaving a brief message on the machine. Just a simple ‘Chester here, Harold I need to speak with you. Please return this call the moment you get this message, no matter how late. My number is...’
He had just started his dinner when the phone rang. “Harold, thanks for getting back to me. Yea, I hate those answering machines. Listen, I have something here you might want to look at. Yeah, remember that finger football? Well, there appears to be writing on the inside. No, no I can’t make out what it says. I really don’t want to mess with it, you know. Sure, I can meet you at the precinct. Ten? No sir, fifteen at the earliest. Yes sir. Alright sir, see you then. Thanks Harold.”
When Chester arrived at the station, Harold was already inside waiting. He was talking to his former secretary; they were both going over the computer printouts Chester had given him earlier. Harold was sitting on the edge of the desk, looking down at the papers spread out over the top of Sharon’s desk. Sharon had a big black marker in her hand. Harold looked up and stood to greet Chester as he arrived. Sharon never looked up from the papers. Chester noticed that several names had been blacked out on all of the papers. He wasn’t really interested though in what they were doing. “Harold, listen, can we talk?” Harold put his arm around Chester’s shoulders and walked with him a couple paces from the desk. “I could lose my job for this. My pension, my whole future is on the line here.” He handed Harold the wad. Harold started to unravel the paper before Chester finished speaking. “Harold, please be careful with that, I have to return it to the records room in the morning. It really shouldn’t look like anyone has been messing with it.”
Harold read the paper intently. There seemed to be a sparkle in his eye that was not there a moment ago. He looked up at Chester and then glanced back to Sharon. He walked back over to the desk and handed the paper to Sharon as his eyes searched the papers on the desk top. “Make a copy of that for me, will you hon?” He never looked up as he made his request. His eyes located what he had been searching for. Sharon exited to make the copy as Harold found a red marker in a cup, on the desk top. He made two large red circles on two separate pieces of computer printout. When Sharon returned with the copy, Harold took his copy and placed it on the desk in-between the two printouts. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and sat down slowly in Sharon’s chair. Sharon folded the wad back into its football form, and returned it to the waiting hand of Chester.
“No one will ever notice hon. If they do, you have them call me. I’ll make it right, OK?” Chester was not pleased but understood.
“Harold? Does it...did you...” All Harold could do was tap at the names with his index finger. He did not trust himself to speak. Both Sharon and Chester came in for a closer look. Sharon picked up the copy and started to read. Uncontrollably her right hand came up to her throat, as she said, “Oh...my... God. It’s the statement of closure. The contract between Salvatore and the kid. The form that transferred ownership of Antonia from one man to the other. Written consent to the exchange of one seven year old female for the payment of an outstanding debit of three thousand dollars. “Harry, you don’t think...it couldn’t be possible...I mean, it’s been better than thirty years...even if...”
Harold just looked up at her sideways. Chester stood patiently waiting for someone to fill him in on the puzzle. Harold stood and started off for the exit; grabbing his coat and hat as he said his goodbyes and thanked them for all their help.
“Harold! Harold! Dammit! Harry wait a minute!” He only paused a moment as he opened the door to leave. “Sorry hon. Haven’t got a minute. Gotta get up to New Haven, business to finish.” And with that he was gone. Chester and Sharon could do nothing else. Sharon set about cleaning off the desk top and placing all the papers into a new file. Chester put the finger football into his shirt pocket and headed home once more.
Chapter 20
It was harder to get inside Josephine’s house than it had been for him to enter the hospital. The local P.D. focused their efforts on the front of the property since the back was only accessible through the dwelling or via the water. He was not a great fan of water. He came in through a neighbor’s yard. After scanning Josephine’s yard to it was clear he kicked out a section of cedar fencing large enough to allow him through. He had to be cautious; there was no way of knowing who was inside the home. Anyone could be watching from the windows. He followed the fence up the length to the house. He tried the side door, but it was locked. He crept along the back of the house until he found a patio door unlatched. He looked carefully through the doors window, and then pulled it open.
The door opened into the great room. Two men were sitting inside. He recognized the bodyguard from past news articles, the others identity he did not know. Stretching his neck he tried to see what held their interest. The view from his angle wasn’t the best, but the arguing from inside filled him in on what he could not see.
“Damn, did you see the way she tossed her?”
“There was no tossing, she stuck her leg out and let her fall.”
“She was off the ground for crying out loud!”
“She’s alive isn’t she? And not lying in the damn hospital I might add!”
“So where the hell were you Billy?”
“For Christ’s sake, there was a guy out on the lake.” Billy stood in disgust and walked to the kitchen. The lawyer stood to follow but took a moment to stop and eject the tape. He did not remove it however. He hastened his step to the kitchen lecturing Billy about his requirements as a bodyguard.
No one saw him enter. No one heard him remove the video. He exited the great room in the opposite direction from the previous two occupants, into the hall that led to the laundry.
Located in the laundry area was one of the two interior doors of the garage. He needed to think. He really wasn’t sure what he had planned to do. He knew why he was here but Josephine’s car was missing and she did not seem to be at home. To make matters worse there were people here that he had not anticipated. Killing people took a lot out of him. He wanted to be mentally aware when Josephine arrived. He hated her with such venom. He never understood why she thought she was so much better than the rest of the world. Why she thought she couldn’t be touched.
Years ago, when he had thought he had lost Antonia forever, he felt as if he had no reason to live. But then, Josephine’s sta
lker had given him a transfusion. Josephine’s academic choice was front page news for months. He hated to see her face on the front of the daily news paper. Just the sight of her made him lose his appetite. Antonia’s best friend. The one person who knew her better than anyone. The one person she would give up the world for. All Josephine Ferrero cared about was herself and getting publicity. And then she acted like she was a victim. She had invited the stalker didn’t she? Better than everyone else, that’s what she thought of herself and it had made him sick to his stomach. He should have thanked her though. If not for the stalker, she never would have begged Antonia to come home. How different his world would be. But she had called her. According to the tabloids she had called and begged her to come home.
He could still picture her floating off the plane. She was much darker than he preferred but her body made it difficult for him to breathe. So in awe was he, that she had left the airport before he ever took a step toward her. Every minute since then was devoted to her return to him. He had laid out his plan perfectly. Then somehow things went wrong. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.
He did not want to have to kill anyone else today. There was a lot of yelling coming from inside the house. The lawyer had gone back for the tape and found it missing. Billy was screaming that the lawyer was the last one watching it. They were both screaming for the maid.
This seemed like the perfect time to escape but instead he went back into the house, through the second door which opened into the foyer just beyond the kitchen. Up the stairs totally unnoticed by the bickering two. Everything was going well until he turned, just past the landing. He ducked into a door on the right. Chest to chest he collided with Chloe. His hand was on her mouth before she had inhaled enough to scream. “You’re not going to make a sound. You can either live or die. It’s up to you. But you are going to have to make that choice right now. Do you understand me?”