Nearly Departed

by Max Patrick Schlienger

  It was a short walk from the living room to the entry hall, and Dennis managed to catch up with Bobo just before the man ducked through a doorway.

  “Something else, sir?” Bobo asked, stopping in mid-stride.

  “Shove it,” Dennis growled. “She’s gone. I took too long. Where were you?”

  Bobo gestured carefully, and Dennis noticed a glass of water clutched in the bigger man’s hand. “The lady asked for a drink, so I went to get her one. I didn’t get around to asking about her daddy’s lover.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Dennis tersely. “It isn’t a joking matter.”

  “What was that, Dennis?” came a voice from the den. Dennis brushed past Bobo into a cozy sitting room, furnished with brown armchairs that were almost identical to Evy’s. Elspeth was sitting on a matching couch, and a low marble table stood in the center of the space. The rows of dark, well-stocked bookshelves that lined the walls gave off a feeling of aged and opulent comfort, much like the rest of the house.

  “Evy’s gone,” Dennis sighed. He moved over as Bobo entered the room and handed the glass of water to Elspeth.

  “Well, that would make continuing your date rather difficult,” she said. She took a long swallow before placing the glass on the table. Dennis saw his phone there too, along with Elspeth’s ashtray. “Although, you might be able to start again where you left off.”

  “Do you think she’ll remember me?” Dennis asked hopefully. Elspeth’s shrug was less than encouraging.

  “She might. Her memory seems up to her whim, but I’ve never seen it last beyond an hour or so.”

  Dennis glanced at Bobo, who returned his gaze quizzically. “Are there any exceptions?” Dennis questioned. “Anything she retains no matter what?”

  “Nothing that I’m aware of,” replied Elspeth. She coughed suddenly, erupting into a restrained fit. “Excuse me,” she said, taking another drink. Her hand shook slightly as she replaced the glass, splashing a few drops onto Dennis’ phone.

  “Elspeth,” Dennis began tentatively, “what was your father like after your sister died?”

  “A bit distant, really,” replied Elspeth matter-of-factly. She coughed again once and cleared her throat. “He still did commissioned art pieces from time to time, but the fire seemed to have left him. Of course, one can never be sure, since I didn’t really know him before Evy’s death.” She continued speaking, anticipating Dennis’ next question. “My mother was largely the same, right up until the end. Father died shortly after her.”

  “Did you ever see any of the pieces your father did?”

  A lopsided smile crossed Elspeth’s face as she replied. “What a strange question. Yes, I saw a few of them. I don’t have any, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Not exactly,” Dennis said. He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to upset the woman. “Something that Evy said made we wonder, though. Do you remember your father’s business partner at all?”

  “Oh, yes, I should say so.” Elspeth patted at her bathrobe until she found a rumpled package of cigarettes in one pocket. She offered one to Bobo, who declined, and one to Dennis, who hesitantly accepted. “I never knew him personally,” continued Elspeth, “but he was around often enough.” She lit her cigarette with a practiced motion, and then passed the lighter to Dennis.

  “What was his role, do you know? In your father’s business, I mean.” Dennis lit his own cigarette and inhaled shallowly. The smoke did little to calm his nerves, but at least his hands were occupied. Elspeth shook her head quietly, tapping the end of her cigarette into the ashtray.

  “I was never clear on that,” she responded. “They had something of a falling out after Evy died.”

  “Why?” Dennis asked. “What happened?”

  “Again, I really couldn’t say.” Elspeth took another drag and exhaled, punctuating her words with tendrils of smoke. “If I had to guess, I would say that it was because of Evy’s medicine.”

  “Medicine?” Dennis’ brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell me that she was taking anything. What kind of medicine?”

  “Insulin,” said Elspeth plainly. “Evy was diabetic.”

  “So, back when you told me that she was unhealthy...?”

  “Oh, yes,” replied Elspeth. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d mentioned it.”

  It was a new piece to the puzzle, and Dennis was beginning to get a sense of a larger picture forming. He tapped off his cigarette and left it smoldering in the ashtray. “What did your father’s partner have to do with it?”

  “This is speculation, you understand,” replied Elspeth, “but I suspect that we were in the United States illegally at first. I remember we left England in quite a rush, although I expect anything new seems chaotic to a child.”

  “Cor, I get it.” Bobo spoke up for the first time since entering the room. “Your dad’s partner was American, was he?” He stepped forward and gestured between Elspeth and Dennis. “So, he’d get the medicine for Evy. I mean, if your family couldn’t get it, being illegal and all, it would make sense, eh?”

  The room was filled with a pensive silence, eventually broken by Elspeth taking a final drag on her cigarette. “Yes, I suppose it would,” she said. There was a touch of emotion to her voice, and a somber air about her that Dennis had not witnessed before. He waited before speaking again, measuring his thoughts.

  “I think I may have figured it out,” he said finally. Both Elspeth and Bobo looked at him expectantly, and he licked his lips before pressing onward. “Let’s assume that your family was here illegally, Elspeth, and that your father’s partner was helping them out. Evy would have spent a fair amount of time around them both, which is why your father started including her in things. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep an eye on her, I don’t know.” He took a breath. “Then, there was a big argument, and Evy died in the middle of it. Maybe something kept her from getting her insulin in time. She did mention that her father and his partner were gone, so it might fit. Either way, she’s still here and waiting for them to kiss and make up.” Bobo coughed on a laugh, and Dennis silenced him with a warning glare. “After Evy died, there was one less reason for your father’s partner to stay around.”

  Elspeth’s face was expressionless, but her shoulders were tense and held high. Once again, silence dominated the atmosphere, mixing almost tangibly with the thin haze from the cigarettes. Dennis stood motionless, waiting for something, anything, to break the heavy spell that hung over the room. His patience paid off, and Elspeth looked up at him with a piercing, almost pleading gaze that was entirely alien from the calm and confident expressions he had seen on the woman in the past.

  “Including her in what things?” Elspeth asked softly.

  Dennis felt a clammy nausea trickle through him, beginning at the base of his scalp and seeping through the rest of his body. “Well, uh, Elspeth,” he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably, “remember how you could tell from the very beginning that I was... how did you put it?”

  “Paranoid?” suggested Bobo unhelpfully.

  “A flimflammer,” Elspeth declared.

  “Right, that.” Dennis’ breath whistled through his teeth as he inhaled. “Well, it turns out that your father and I might have shared a common profession.” He sat down across from Elspeth, trying to appear supportive and understanding. “Your father was an artist, Elspeth. A con artist. He got your sister involved in a job of some kind, and she died before it was finished.”

  Dennis felt like he was in a dream, for how real the situation seemed. Elspeth’s eyes teared up, and his own started to leak sympathetically. “Oh, Evelyn,” whispered Elspeth. “She never did like me sneaking around, but I didn’t think she actually had something to hide.” She sniffed once and drained the rest of her water, then sat clutching the glass as though it might provide her with some comfort.

  “Well, listen,” Dennis continued as gently as he could. “I think we can fix all of this. Do you know where we can reach your father’s old partner? Is he
still alive?” If he had been superstitious, Dennis would have crossed his fingers.

  “No,” replied Elspeth. “I mean, I don’t know. I never saw him again after Evy died. Even if he is alive, I wouldn’t know how to go about contacting him.”

  “Damn,” Dennis muttered.

  “What about a picture?” chimed Bobo. “Maybe if she saw the two of them making nice, that would be good enough.”

  “It could work,” agreed Dennis, albeit skeptically. He turned back to Elspeth. “How about it? Do you have a picture of your father and his partner?”

  “I might,” Elspeth sniffed. She coughed again, but whether it was from choking back tears or some other cause, Dennis couldn’t tell. “There’s an envelope somewhere filled with old photographs. I’ll go see if I can find it.” The woman’s strength seemed to return as she stood, and the pained expression left her face. “Meanwhile, Dennis, perhaps you could speak with Evy again. If this works as you think it will, we would all do well to be prepared.” She walked quickly from the room, leaving Dennis and Bobo alone.

  “Seems tough on her,” commented Bobo. “Course, if it were my sister in that chair, it might be tough on me, too.” He shrugged as though casting off an inner thought. “Not that you’d ever find Zoe haunting a piece of furniture.”

  “Zoe?” Dennis repeated.

  “My sister.”

  Dennis regarded Bobo with a thoughtful look. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” Despite the serious situation, Bobo laughed out loud.

  “Master of the obvious, you are. Come on, September, you’ve known me, what, three days? Forgive me if I don’t tell you everything at once.”

  “Life would sure be easier if people did,” said Dennis, looking at Elspeth’s ashtray. “Still, I guess we know enough now.”

  “Time for your second date, then?”

  “It might just end up being a repeat of the first one.”

  “Let’s hope for a better ending, then.”

  Dennis nodded gravely. If he didn’t figure this out, Evy might not get an ending at all.