by Elaine Macko
I stopped under a streetlight and looked up into my husband’s handsome face, which looked suddenly very tired and very worried. “Nothing is ever like when we were younger. It’s a sad fact, but true.”
“I know. We grow up and have all sorts of other problems we never imagined but there is definitely something going on with Bill that’s not right. And I don’t think it’s just job stress. I think there’s more to it. I think he’s gotten himself into some kind of trouble.”
“Can you talk with him about it?”
“I tried a bit today, but he brushed it off.”
We started to walk again and to my surprise, rather than turning left on Franklin Roosevelt, John led me to the crosswalk. After checking for cars, we crossed the large avenue and arrived at the entrance of the Bois de la Cambre. Though well past eleven, the sky still was not completely dark. I tripped on a stone and took hold of John’s arm. I didn’t ask where we were going; just let him lead me into the park. I sensed he needed to talk and the walk would do us both good.
When we were home and felt like a good walk, usually on the weekend, John and I would head down to the beach and walk along the new boardwalk connecting Indian Cove’s two main beaches. If we had things on our minds, the walk always proved to be restorative. I hoped for the same tonight.
“When we were in school,” John said, “Bill always had money. Not from his parents, but from some scam or another. Petty stuff, like cheat sheets or advance notice about an exam. How he got all the information that always came his way, I never knew. But he never got caught.”
“Did you partake of any of this information?” I asked not sure whether or not I wanted to know about this side of my husband.
John shook his head. “No. I was tempted a few times like when my Saturday night binges prevented me from studying for a Monday morning exam, but I never did. I’ve always been the kind of guy who would get caught.”
I smiled. “I hope that extends into our marriage because I warn you, John Van der Burg, I will know if you ever stray.” I knew no such thing always being of the mind I was the last to know anything, but figured it a good time to warn him anyway.
We crossed the circular road that went around the park, the very road that we had gone the wrong way on the day of the cookout. We sat in silence for a while on a hard wooden bench with peeling paint. The same noises I would hear back in Indian Cove on a summer night filled the park. Crickets and birds chirping, though never seen, the sound of a car off in the distance, the voices of others happy to be out drifted our way though we could barely make out the shapes around the lake.
“What’s that?”
“Where?” asked John squinting in the encroaching darkness.
“There! All those little lumps on the grass.” Suddenly one moved and I could just about make out the white of a fluffy tail.
“Rabbits. It looks like there are hundreds of them.”
“I wonder what else lives in here.” I craned my head to look around. As if in answer, something swept past us and flew off toward the lake.
“Jeez. That was a bat,” John said.
“A bat? I would never make it as a camper.” I pressed closer into John, all the while keeping an eye on the darkening sky.
“Come on, let’s walk. Maybe if we’re a moving target, they won’t see us so well.”
“Yeah, right. Are you going to see Bill again?”
“Well, I hope before we leave, yes. But I think he’s headed off to Switzerland tomorrow. Just until next Monday or Tuesday, I think.” We walked a little further before John spoke again. “Sometimes I wonder if Bill was ever the guy I made him out to be in my head.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know exactly. I always thought of him as the life of the party, easy-going, fun to be with. As a young man in college, I guess that’s the kind of friend you want, someone who knows where all the parties are and is always invited. I have a feeling I conveniently overlooked some of his less than worthy attributes. In the more than seventeen years or so we’ve been out of school, I really haven’t spend any time with him. A call once or twice a year. A card at Christmas. But what do I really know about Bill the man?”
“Maybe nothing. We all have friends at various phases of our life,” I said. “It doesn’t mean what we had in common as children or young adults will sustain us through adulthood. I ran into one of my best friends from grade school about two years ago at the mall and we had lunch and talked and by the end of the afternoon I didn’t have a clue as to why she and I were once best friends, almost like sisters. She was divorced and she had a son and her ex-husband had just remarried and geesh, was she ever bitter. To the point she didn’t think she was going to let her son visit. And they had been divorced for about five years at this point. She seemed so petty and vindictive. I never saw any of that when we were young. She was so nice and fun. Always including any new kids in our games to make them feel welcome at a new school.” I shook my head.
“Maybe you’re right. Bill is a friend from the past. Nothing more. I just hoped that….”
“You could pick up where you left off?” I finished for my husband.
“Yes. Something like that.”
“From what you tell me, are you sure you would want to?”
John stopped walking and looked at me. “No. I’m not sure. And that’s part of the problem.”
We had walked halfway around the lake. By now the sky was totally dark and crystal clear dotted with thousands of stars and a small sliver of moon.
“Enough about Bill. Tell me all about your day. Do any snooping?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we did.” We started to walk again and I took hold of John’s hand. “Sam is becoming quite the little detective. I’ve created a monster.”
“So, who did you talk to?”
“I believe you received a call from Tom Mulberry telling you about an abusive relationship between Paul and Martine,” I said in a smug tone.
“Yes, we did. How did you know?”
“Because I was the one to encourage him to tell the police. He said he didn’t mention it because he hoped Paul would admit to it himself. He gave us a tour of this church. There’s a school there as well. We’re invited to Sunday morning services.” I could just make out my husband’s smile in the dark.
“I’m sure we’ll have something else to do. What else did you find out today?”
“Nothing I already didn’t know except it was nice to have the various parties admit to certain facts themselves.”
“Such as?”
Just then a jogger, with a flashlight attached to his belt, streaked past us. “That’s what I should be doing. Sam insists we have croissants every morning. Several, in fact. Anyway, well Donna told us Doug had been sleeping with Martine, but she didn’t seem to be as over it as she pretends. At least from what you told me of the conversation.”
“When we talked with Doug today he indicated it was no big deal in their marriage. They had plenty of other stuff to worry about with her trying to get pregnant,” John said.
“Maybe Doug and Donna should talk more. She seems to still be harboring quite a bit of anger. Actually, she seems pretty ripe for murder if you ask me. I mean if she knew about the affair, which she did, and if she heard Martine was pregnant, maybe that set her off. She wanted a baby for so long that if she found out her husband got another woman pregnant, well, I can just see where her mind would go with that one.”
“I agree. The only problem with that theory is I’m not sure anyone knew Martine was pregnant before she died.”
“Not that anyone is admitting,” I corrected.
“You’re getting good at this.”
“It doesn’t bother you Sam and I are snooping around?”
“Well, I can’t very well get mad at you when I’m off everyday helping out myself, can I? As long as you keep it to lunches with others around. Did you talk with anyone else?”
“After Donna, we stopped off to see Jane.�
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“Jane? Ah, yes, the one with the frightening hair.”
I laughed, the only sound surrounding the lake at this hour. “That’s the one. And she admitted to having an affair with Paul. Seems quite proud of it, too. I swear, the things these people do tell. I’m beginning to think living in another country away from family and friends is a lonely business. I’m not sure they would all be so forthcoming with details of their personal lives if we were back in Indian Cove.”
We had reached the point where we had started our walk. We left the park, crossed Avenue Franklin Roosevelt, and arrived in front of our building. John reached into his pocket and took out one of the keys the Smiths had left for each of us.
“Suddenly I’m not tired anymore,” he said as he turned the key and pushed the door open.
“Why, John Van der Burg…are you planning on having your way with me?” I asked using my best southern belle accent.
“I’m planning on having my way, and your way, and any other way I can think of.”
My laugh echoed in the deserted building as John swept me off my feet and carried me into the elevator.
Chapter 24
By eight-thirty I had already washed one load of clothes and had just put another into a machine, which I felt certain had been designed by NASA. The operating manual on the wall next to it would make a nuclear scientist burst with pride. Thank goodness the Smiths had been kind enough to leave an abbreviated version for our use on a pad in the kitchen.
“What are...you doing?” asked a bleary-eyed Sam as she came into the kitchen.
“Washing clothes. And sheets. And towels. Do you know that machine takes over an hour for one load? And you can only get about six items into it at once. And the drier isn’t much better.”
“What’s that stuff outside?” Sam looked out the kitchen window.
I looked out onto a very dreary day. “I believe it’s called rain. Lots of it.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Where did it all come from? It was so nice last night.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it is here. Kind of like Oregon or Seattle, I would imagine. Actually, it’s a perfect day for cleaning. We’ve been here for over a week and I thought everything was about due for a good scrubbing.”
Sam yawned again. “Including me. What are you doing?”
I pulled the laptop toward me again. “I just checked my email and sent another one to Meme. And there are lots of congratulations from friends who couldn’t make the wedding and a lot of junk mail promising to enhance the performance of body parts I do not possess,” I said disgustedly and closed the cover on the laptop. “And an email from Mom saying Grandpa and Lucy McDermott tried to elope.”
“Good grief.” Sam rolled her eyes.
James Harris, our grandfather, lived in a retirement home and for the last two years had been wrecking havoc with the staff.
“A physical therapist caught them trying to climb over the fence. Lucy’s sweatpants got caught on it and grandpa was trying to untangle the whole mess but he forgot his glasses in their attempt for a quick getaway and he couldn’t see a thing.” I laughed loudly. “He sure is a spry old thing.”
“He is that. Let me go take a shower and I’ll be down to help with the cleaning.”
About thirty minutes later Sam returned to the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee.
“What are you reading?” she asked giving me a skeptical look.
“The Le Soir. It’s the local newspaper.”
Sam arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Which I believe is in French.”
“Yeah, well I’m looking at the pictures mostly.” I slapped the paper down on the table. “There’s some fruit on the counter. I thought we’d forego the croissants this morning. My shorts are feeling a bit tight.”
“Fine with me. I ate too much last night what with all that food and then dessert and then Michael and I had several cappuccinos. The airline is going to take one look at me and charge extra baggage just for my body.”
“Where is Michael? Still sleeping?” I asked.
Sam pulled the stems off of a couple of strawberries and tossed them in the small trashcan. “Rounds. I swear to God, you’d think we lived here or something and these were his patients.” Sam shook her head in total wonderment. “He’s promised tomorrow he’ll be ready bright and early for Antwerp. If I play my cards right, I might just be able to finagle something out of him myself at one of the diamond stores. The least he can do for deserting me.”
I reached for a pad of paper and pencil I had pushed to the side earlier.
“Making a list of goodies you want from Antwerp?” Sam stood over me and trying to get a look at what was written.
“No. I started a list of suspects. I thought I’d write down everyone who was playing volleyball and a list of the ones who weren’t. Maybe you can help me remember what everyone was doing?”
“Well, I was playing, for a bit. And so was everyone else except you and Martine.”
I put my name on the side of non-players. “Wanda and Donna played at the beginning,” I said, “but then I saw them in the kitchen.”
“Right. They stopped after a couple of games. I wasn’t far behind. Jane played about five minutes and then stomped off in disgust. I think she was just mad because she wasn’t very good. So put her on the same side with you and Martine.”
I leaned back and took a sip of my tea. “What was she doing, then?”
“I know she watched for a while. And made snide comments.”
I looked at the sheet of paper. “Okay, we have John, Bill, Michael, and Doug on the volleyball side. I think they all played the whole time.”
“They did. And you can add Paul. He played most of the time, and the other Belgian couple. They both played and the Dutch couple, too. They were quite good. Especially Lars.”
“That doesn’t sound like a Dutch name to me. It sounds more Swedish.”
“Probably. He kind of looked like a Viking though their last name was Van Roost, I think. Tom and Jobeth played. The first time Jobeth hit the ball, her bun came loose and she went to fix it.”
“So which side should we put her on?” I asked.
“Probably the non-players. She didn’t last long and even when she was playing, she was lousy.”
“So, who’s left? Oh. Malcolm. I think he played the whole time.” I added his name. “And the rest, Wanda, Donna, Martine, you, I’ll put on this side. You didn’t play long enough.”
“All right. So now we have a list. What now?” Sam asked sounding a bit leery of the whole idea.
“Now we see who was where when. All the men played the whole time. Paul only came to look for Martine at the end of the game. Wanda and Donna went to the kitchen. I saw Wanda come out with more drinks, but Donna didn’t follow. And that was at the same time Martine had gone inside.”
“So we know Donna was in the house but we don’t know what she was doing. Are you going to eat this?” Sam asked eyeing one last strawberry on my plate.
“No. Help yourself.”
“Donna had an opportunity. I don’t remember seeing Jobeth. She went to fix her hair but that was early in the game. After that I didn’t see her,” Sam said.
“Neither did I. So she could have been in the house. And Wanda came and went all the time. Jane was with me for a bit until Paul came looking for Martine. And yes! I saw her go into the house. She came back out a bit later with a sweater, but she could have been in there long enough to kill Martine.”
I tapped my pencil looking lost. “After the game broke up, everyone was going in and preferably out to get purses and sweaters or whatever.”
“That’s true. And with everyone leaving and people saying good-bye, I don’t think anyone noticed where anyone else was,” Sam said with a shrug.
I put the pencil down. “So we’re back to square one. If Martine had been killed earlier, that would narrow it down somewhat to Wanda, Jobeth, Donna, or Jane.”
“Or you,” Sam teased.
I ignored my sister. “But she was with me until almost the end of the game. By then everyone was in and out of the house. Well, hell. This was a waste of time. Someone wanted that poor woman dead. Someone at the cookout. But for the life of me, I can’t come up with a good reason.”
“Just her affair with Doug,” Sam said.
“Which leaves Donna as the murderer. Or maybe Paul,” I said a bit begrudgingly. I stood up and pushed the sleeves of my denim blouse up. “That’s enough. I don’t want to talk about Martine or murder any more. All these people and trying to figure out where they all were is making my head spin. I’ll take the kitchen. Why don’t you clean the lounge and bring me your dirty sheets and towels.”
“So no more sleuthing for today?” Sam sounded almost sorry.
“We’ve exhausted all the suspects. Unless we want to track down the Dutch couple and go talk with them.”
“I think they left before all the excitement.”
“I think you’re right, but we’re not quite sure what time Martine was killed,” I said getting caught up in the conversation again. “It had to be after the game. So conceivably, one of them could have gone in.”
“They didn’t seem to know Martine very well. What could the motive be?”
“Hmm. I don’t know and I still think the choice of a murder weapon was a bit odd.”
“It was probably the only thing handy,” Sam mused.
“Unless someone brought it with them, which would show premeditation.”
“Or just a desire for clean teeth,” Sam added.
“Yeah, but who goes around carrying dental floss, for pity’s sake.”
“Michael!” We both said together and started to laugh.
“Though I think he’s left it upstairs so far on this trip,” Sam said through her giggling.
“Well, that about does it then. My money’s on Donna.” I stood up again.
“Not Paul?”
“Oh, Sam. I just don’t want it to be him.” I slumped back onto my stool. “I don’t even know him, but I’d hate to think he did it. Donna is so cold. And she looks like she could be downright ruthless if she was crossed. And a cheating husband and a pregnant mistress would definitely be grounds for ruthless behavior in my book.”