by Glen Ebisch
“You mean I shouldn’t tell Jack.”
“Things are complicated between the two of you right now. It might be best if you didn’t add any new factors.”
She gave him a sly look. “You mean Jack might come running back to me because I have money.”
“Possibly. Or he might not come back because he feels you no longer need him as a provider. It could work either way.”
Amy considered that. “I don’t like keeping things from my husband, but for now I’ll follow your advice.” She smiled. “What are you really going to do with that bat?”
Charles took a tentative swing. “I have plenty of time now that I’m retired. Maybe I’ll take up the game again.”
Chapter 10
Charles was sitting the breakfast table the next morning reading The New York Times when the phone rang. The person on the other end identified herself as Lavinia Cole.
“How did you get this number? I thought it was up to me to call you.”
“In answer to your first question, your number is in the phone book,” she said with a hint of humor in her voice. “And I called you because I had doubts whether you’d ever call me.”
Charles silently admitted to himself that she was right to have had doubts.
“Okay, what did you want to ask me?” Charles asked gruffly.
“I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and it’s much easier to make that judgment if I can see an individual in person. I wondered if it would be possible for us to get together and have a chat.”
“I doubt there’s very much I can tell you, nor can I think of any reason why you would care whether I have a good character or not.”
She laughed. “Why don’t we get together and find out?”
“Where would you want us to meet?”
“Well, I’m staying at The Opalsville Inn. We could talk in the lobby of the inn. The place doesn’t seem to be very crowded.”
Charles had been about to suggest meeting in his office, but he decided that a public place might be better if some sort of controversy broke out.
“Okay, that’s acceptable.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. How about we say ten o’clock?”
Charles agreed. After he ended the call, he sat at the table for a long moment looking out through the French doors at the back yard. A few leaves were already starting to float down into the yard as September came to an end. Soon he’d have to decide if he was going to rake up the colorful carpet that would soon cover his lawn or whether he would hire someone to do it. He’d always done it himself in the past, as if trying to prove that the job had not become too much for him. But now he was wondering if it wouldn’t be best to choose his battles with encroaching age more carefully. Perhaps running was enough to show that he was still in vibrant good health, and he could relegate leaf raking to some willing young lad, if one could still be found who was not engrossed in computer games. If not, he’d employ a lawn service.
Charles enjoyed the three-mile ride through the colorful hills to the center of Opalsville. Although the end of summer always made him feel a bit melancholy, serving as a specific proof of the fact that all living things end in death, he also found it inspiring in its beauty. He looked forward with some trepidation to the upcoming interview, but was still feeling rather upbeat as he pulled into the parking lot of the Opalsville Inn. On the weekend the Inn would be crowded with leaf-peepers, but during the week, the number of customers was considerably reduced, limited primarily to retirees.
As he walked into the lobby, the young woman behind the desk looked up hopefully. “Can I help you?”
“I’m supposed to meet someone here,” he explained.
She gave him a funny look and smiled. “Back in the card room,” she replied, pointing beyond the large fireplace, in which a fire was slowly burning, to a smaller room in the rear of the building.
Charles headed across the lobby, which sported colonial furnishings probably purchased during the last decade. As he came within view of the card room, a woman stood up from behind one of the tables. She was impressively tall, almost as tall as Charles in her high-heeled boots, and slender, with long legs and fairly broad shoulders. What struck Charles the most, however, was that she was formidably dressed in black. As he drew closer he could see that her blouse was made of a silken material and her jeans were stylishly tight fitting. She was attractive in a gaunt, almost hard, kind of way. What was most striking was the streak of gray that ran through he shoulder length hair. Charles wondered why a woman who was pretty clearly only in her late thirties would want to appear older.
“Hello, I’m glad you were willing to meet,” she said, giving him a wolfish grin and fixing her large brown eyes on him.
“I thought you deserved to know how Sebastian Locke spent his last day.”
She nodded, and they sat down opposite each other at one of the wooden card tables, ready for the game to begin.
“So you and Sebastian were …” Charles paused, not sure what word to use. “Partners,” he finally suggested.
Lavinia Cole smiled. “We were lovers, partners, a couple, but more than that we were a team, prepared to face together whatever the future was going to bring.”
“And what did you expect that to be?”
Lavinia shrugged as though she suspected she’d be wasting her breath by giving Charles an explanation. “The social order is on the verge of collapse. Who knows what will push it over the edge? When that happens the world will revert back to a tribal social order. Sebastian and I and a few friends have an organization in place for when that day comes.”
Charles nodded, trying to appear noncommittal.
“I know you don’t believe any of this,” she said with a sad smile. “That’s because you lack imagination, just like the Jews in Germany, who couldn’t believe that things were going to hell until it was too late.”
“Why did Sebastian come down here?” asked Charles to get things back on track.
“You spoke with him. What did he tell you?”
“He told me, of course, that he was here to deliver a lecture.”
“That was only part of it. Did he mention Professor Carlson to you? The man who invited Tori to dinner?”
Charles nodded.
“He didn’t say much to Tori when she told him about the incident on the phone, but he was livid. He wanted to hop in the truck and drive right down here to confront Carlson. I managed to talk him out of it. I was afraid it would turn violent. Sebastian had a bit of a temper.”
Charles thought that was an understatement.
“Have you spoken to Professor Carlson yourself?” he asked.
“No, Lieutenant Thorndike asked me not to until she had a chance to interview him. But she’d better hurry up because I’m going to get to the bottom of Sebastian’s murder. I don’t intend to let it be swept under the rug by the authorities, and I think Carlson is a likely suspect.”
“I think it would be best to let Lieutenant Thorndike conduct the investigation,” Charles said primly.
Lavinia gave him a scornful look. “Did Sebastian mention anyone else to you that he planned to see?”
“Aside from his daughter, no.” Charles figured that he was being honest. Locke hadn’t mentioned Tori’s boyfriend, Jason Savoy, and he wasn’t about to direct this rather fierce woman in the callow young man’s direction.
“I’ve tried calling Tori several times, but she never picks up. I suppose she hates me. She’s just like her mother. Neither one of them understood that Sebastian had legitimate philosophical reasons for embarking on a new way of life. They think I seduced him, but it wasn’t just physical attraction, although that was part of it. More to the point he realized that the world was different than he had understood it to be. But that didn’t change the fact that she was his daughter, and he still loved her. But he didn’t care for her boyfriend, Jason.”
Ah, Charles thought, Locke must have told her about the dinner that night. He wouldn’t be able to
rescue the boy after all. “Are you planning to stay in Opalsville, then?”
She nodded firmly. “Until the police make progress in solving the case or I take over the investigation and find out who did it myself.”
She smiled and gave Charles a lingering look that he found enticing and at the same time frightening. “I could use someone in town that I can trust to bounce ideas off of. I was wondering if we could get together again once I’ve learned more?”
Charles paused. Did this formidable woman really want the benefit of his advice, or knowing that he was Joanna’s friend, did she hope to glean insights into the police investigation by remaining in contact with him? He was tempted to refuse her request, but then he realized that gaining information could work both ways. By staying in touch, he might also discover what she had learned in her investigation.
“I guess that would be okay,” he said with obvious reluctance.
“Thank you,” Lavinia said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “I’m sure we’ll make a great team. And between us we’ll find out who did this to Sebastian.”
“Perhaps. But wasn’t Sebastian planning to break up with you?”
Her hand quickly slithered back to her side of the table. “Of course not. Where did you hear that?”
Charles shrugged. “It’s been going around.”
“Probably a rumor started by his ex-wife. She hates me. Of course, that’s only natural since Sebastian preferred me to her. There’s nothing she’d like more than having our relationship come to an end.”
She stared across the room for so long that Charles turned to see what she was looking at, but saw nothing other than an awkward American attempt at a Constable hanging on the far wall.
“Maybe she did it,” Lavinia said, her face filled with realization. “That was the only way she could destroy our relationship, eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and snapped.”
“That’s possible,” Charles said in a level voice.
“You don’t know her. She’s a violent woman. She even has a black belt in one of those oriental martial arts.”
Hearing Lavinina refer to Locke’s ex as violent seemed a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.
“But was she even here in town at the time of Sebastian’s death?” Charles asked.
“I don’t know, Charles, but I have every intention of finding out.”
The gleam in her eyes indicated that she probably would.
Chapter 11
When Charles left his meeting with Lavinia Cole, he realized that it was almost time for him to report to the soup kitchen in town for his weekly stint. He’d been doing this for several months at the behest of his next-store neighbor. Although a strong believer in volunteerism in theory, he still wasn’t fully convinced of its value in practice. Part of that may have been due to his job, which consisted of doling out mashed potatoes and veggies on the food line after helping to set up the tables. Perhaps it was snobbishness, but he felt that a man of his skills should be able to contribute in a more meaningful way to the welfare of the needy. He’d once mentioned this to Joanna, and she’d rather tartly responded that most folks needed food more than a new interpretation of Hemingway. If nothing else, he finally decided, it was a valuable lesson in humility.
After helping to set up the tables with a slightly unhinged fellow named John, who was alternately obsequious and vindictive, Charles found himself in his usual spot on the serving line next to Karen Melrose, a woman whom he had dated once. A date that had ended rather disastrously with her being shot when she stepped in front of a bullet meant for him. Surprisingly, she had turned out to be a good sport about it, and seemed to see it as a romantic highlight of her rather pedestrian life. Fortunately, she didn’t seem inclined to want to repeat the experience, so they were able to work together as just friends.
“That college of yours is certainly a lively place when it comes to crime,” Karen said. “Two murders a couple of months ago, and another just the other day.”
“Yes, it is rather remarkable,” Charles said, focusing his gaze on the bland pile of mashed potatoes and hoping the subject would be changed to match.
“But at least this time, you didn’t have anything to do with it,” Karen said, smiling. As she studied Charles’ face, her smile faded. “You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”
Charles cleared his throat. “Well, it just so happened that I was one of the people who found the body.”
Karen did an elaborate eye-roll. “God, Charles, how do you get involved in all these things?”
“I don’t do it intentionally.”
“But you must have some kind of an affinity for it.”
“I assure you, it gives me no pleasure to find a dead body,” he said sharply.
She reached over and touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have realized how upsetting it must have been. Was it someone you knew?”
“Only slightly. I’d met him earlier that same morning.”
She shook her head. “Do the police have any idea what happened?”
He cautiously said that the death remained under investigation.
“Well, I’m sure that the police will get to the bottom of it. Chief Joanna seems very competent.”
Charles nodded.
“Are you two still seeing each other?” she asked.
Somehow the word of their relationship had gotten around town by the time of their second date. Charles wondered how anyone could expect to lead a private life in a town filled with such busybodies.
“Yes, we are.”
“Good. She seems like a very fine fit for you.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “Why would you say that?”
“You both seem to thrive on danger and excitement.”
“That may be somewhat true of Joanna, but it certainly isn’t true of me.”
“No? The only time I’ve ever been shot was on a date with you.”
It took Charles a moment before he saw the mischief in her eye. He smiled. “And I still feel bad about that. Plus I can assure you that I’m not usually inclined toward risky behavior.”
“But danger seems to find you. Knowing you is about as close as I’ve ever come to it. I’ve missed seeing you twice a week since you’ve started teaching again. How has it been going?”
“I enjoy being back in the harness, especially since it’s only one class, so a lighter harness.”
Her face turned more serious. “I read in the paper that your father died. I would have attended the wake, but apparently it was only for the family.”
“My father didn’t have any friends in the community, so I decided to keep it low key.
“My mother is still alive, but I remember when my father died. It was devastating.”
“I’m sure,” Charles said politely.
“Did you see your father often?”
“Well, he was in a nursing home for much of his time up here, but I used to visit regularly.”
“My father was in one as well. They’re pretty depressing places. It gets you thinking about how you’d like to go. I know I’d rather die quickly without a lot of fuss and bother, rather than languish somewhere, slowly losing my faculties. How about you: slow or quick?”
Charles thought for a moment. “Quick, I think. Slow may give your family a chance to say goodbye, but that gets tiresome for everyone pretty fast. Overall, I believe faster is better. Going into the hospital and dying the next day is probably ideal.” He laughed. “Not that any of us get a chance to decide how our end will come.”
Karen reached out and touched his arm. “Let’s hope that however it comes, it isn’t until some time in the distant future.”
Charles nodded, thinking about how much of a surprise it must have been for Sebastian Locke.
Chapter 12
Just as Charles was about to leave the soup kitchen, his phone rang.
“Where are you?” Joanna asked.
“In town at the soup kitchen.”
“Would you have time to swing by the campus? I’ve arranged to interview Professor Carlson this afternoon, and I’d like to have you along. Since you know Carlson, your presence might make the interview seem less threatening, and him more willing to talk.”
“I’m not sure I want to be there when you humiliate a colleague.”
“You’re the one who said what he did was wrong. This is just a case of the chickens coming home to roost.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean I want to be there to watch the flock descend.” He heard Joanna sigh and changed his mind. “No, you’re right, I’m being weak. Of course, I’ll accompany you. We have to get at the truth.”
“Good man,” Joanna said, and he felt a flush of pride.
They met in front of the George Gagnon Building, named after an early twentieth century benefactor of the college, and the site of the history department.
“How are we going to play this?” Charles asked, as they walked side by side up the wrought iron staircase.
Joanna grinned. “Do you want to be good cop or bad cop?”
“I’d prefer to be mild-mannered English professor.”
“Then you’d better let me take the lead, but don’t be hesitant about inserting a question if you think I’ve overlooked something important.”
The man who opened the door at Joanna’s knock was tall with stylishly tousled brown hair, which made him look ten years younger than what Charles knew to be his fifty years. He also had an air of startled bemusement that made him seem rather helpless, probably a carefully practiced act to attract the more maternal undergraduates.
He looked at Charles and his eyes went wide with surprise and dismay.
“I thought out conversation was going to be private,” he said to Joanna.
“It is confidential. I asked Professor Bentley along because he knew Sebastian Locke.”
That sounded weak to Charles, but Carlson apparently accepted it because he reached out and shook Charles’ hand and invited them both into his office. As Carlson settled in behind his desk, Charles noticed that he had a large bruise on the left side of his jaw.