A Sorority of Angels

by Gus Leodas

  I watched the car vanish when it turned at the next street as I damned the driver, unable to read the idiot’s darkened license plate.

  The jolt of the near death experience dissipated. I shrugged the incident off as a bad moment. When Laura asked about my day, I said, “I nearly got killed by a drunk driver.”

  The cyanide poisoning dominated the talk of Washington offices on Monday.

  They postponed the hearing until next week, after the funeral. Although her boss died, Judy attended work as usual on Monday. The national funeral was on Wednesday and work needed to continue. I got the impression Judy worked little that day. I felt she stalked me, prowling everywhere. I forgot about her or cared because I was busy, even skipped lunch.

  I worked late that day and left at nine o’clock. I never minded working late. No one waited at home. Laura returned to New York. The night air, a reminder of my fatigue and hunger as I lingered for a few minutes, cleansed my daily confined atmosphere.

  The beautiful evening required a walk. I found myself by the Jefferson Memorial and Highway Bridge. From there I hailed a taxi for a local restaurant near the apartment. I enjoyed a leisurely meal, two glasses of California red, paid the bill, and headed for home.

  Night was peace and contentment with the lull of the discreet neighborhood on a late night. I had a distinct notion somebody watched me. That feeling lurked since I left my office. Was it the FBI? The police? Was I a suspect? I expected surveillance.

  The street had life. A man with khaki shorts and a sweatshirt walked his sheepdog – actually, it left a memento by the curb. Two elder women walked hand in hand, arms entwined. Why out so late? The drone from the avenue behind me faded as I walked farther away. I chanced to look over my shoulder and saw a car turn into the street and double-park, its lights going out. No one exited.

  When I reached the first of two intersections before the apartment, I was on guard, defensive, the memory of that drunken driver still vivid. The streets lacked moving cars as I crossed. The man with his sheepdog and the two women were behind me. An electric guitar sound drifted from a basement across the street. The house I passed had its television on obvious by the dull and flickering blue light. A few lights were on in the private homes, no other life besides night insects’ sounds.

  I strolled to the other street and reached the corner – no moving cars. My apartment building was on the corner. I crossed diagonally towards my home.

  I walked in the middle when the black Honda Civic raced from a parked position by the apartment. The sudden engine burst alerted me. I ran like a bat out of hell and dove behind the light pole. Another second and I was a goner. The force and sudden turn sent the Honda careening down the street losing control. It sideswiped a parked car. The car near the avenue that had double-parked turned on its flashing blue lights. The Honda’s driver had to see the official lights, panicked, and attempted to turn into the next street to get away.

  The turn was fast and late. The Honda hammered into a tree like thunder. The impact crushed. I picked myself up brushing off and ran towards the car that tried to kill me twice. I wasn’t concerned about the driver’s safety. I needed to know the identity of the idiot who wanted to kill me. Twice went beyond coincidence. The car with the blue lights rushed to the impact area and two men rushed out. House lights went on. The local residents came to satisfy curiosities. The tree demolished the Honda. By the time I arrived, one of the men tried to open the door. He couldn’t. Gasoline spread over the area, its stench obvious. He ran to his car for a flashlight. The other man ran to the nearest home for a hose to wash down the gasoline before a fire started. The one with the flashlight rushed back and flashed the light into the front seat illuminating the interior.

  I had to see the driver. When the light told me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Judy Heller was dead, mangled in the wreckage.

  The other man came back with a hose, a neighbor, and a crowbar. He drenched the area as he used the crowbar on the door, wrenching it open. They removed her bloodied body, placed her on the sidewalk, checked identification, and then covered her with a blanket.

  I wanted to help but couldn’t function. My mind suspended elsewhere unable to comprehend why Judy wanted to kill me. The two men were thorough and efficient, the situation under control. My help was unnecessary. I was dazed, unbelieving.

  I strained to unravel the puzzle when a man from the blue lights approached, neatly dressed, in his early thirties, and official looking. A crowd gathered. Distant sirens sounded.

  “Mr. Adam Churchill?”

  How did he know my name? I looked at him curiously.

  “Yes?”

  “May I see you alone for a moment, sir?”

  We walked about fifteen feet from the crowd then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled his identification.

  “Agent Joe Masterson. Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  That made sense. “Were you following me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sure I know why. Under the circumstances, I’m glad.”

  “We know you knew Judy Heller. Have you any idea why she wanted to run you down?”

  “None. I was shocked it was her.”

  “We found this in the car.”

  Agent Masterson held an aluminum foil with the four poison capsules.

  “What is that?”

  “I think the capsules are cyanide poison. There’s a faint bitter almond odor. We’ll run a check. Maybe we found Senator Bender’s killer. Have you any reason to believe she’s the one?”

  “No. I can’t believe Judy could do such a thing, or believe she wanted to kill me. Makes no sense.”

  “Maybe she targeted everybody on the Committee. Thank you for being cooperative. I need your statement regarding this incident.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  I made my eyewitness statement. Distant sirens approached. When an ambulance and police arrived then a tow truck, the accident disappeared. Agent Masterson alerted me as to what could come tomorrow.

  “Again, thanks for your help. We need to question you further as to why she was after you. We will call you tomorrow. Maybe she was after you at the hearing, not Senator Bender, and if so, why?”

  “What? Come on. That’s absurd.”

  “Everything’s possible. I’m sure you know we look under every rock. Be available.”

  The capsules checked; the same poison killed Bender. The next day, the FBI questioned me for four hours. I persuaded them I had no idea why Judy Heller killed Bender and why she tried to kill me. I also agreed to submit to a lie detector test offering to take the test. At the end, they seemed satisfied with me and the test was unnecessary.

  Case closed.

  Between last night and grueling questioning today, I forgot to call Laura to tell her about Judy. She must’ve heard the news and had to know what happened. The story dominated the news services.

  Laura wasn’t home when I called and when I redialed an hour later. I tried again in thirty minutes and the line was busy. By ten o’clock, the phone remained busy. With impatience, I asked the operator to check the number, to cut in that an emergency existed. To me it was. She confirmed no conversation was taking place.

  I couldn’t sleep. Then a shadow lifted; Laura’s interest in Bender, in Judy. Why would Judy kill Bender? Why would she try to kill me? Why were they together in Bellini’s? I continued unsettled dissatisfied with their story.

  Fog slowly cleared.

  The picture focused sharper.

  And the puzzle made sense.

  When Laura entered her apartment after work, the sight she saw stopped her by the door.

  I sat on the sofa.

  “What are you doing here? What a nice surprise.”

  She lit with joy. Carrying two full grocery bags, she closed the door with her foot, set the bags on a table then kissed me. She realized something was wrong when I remained seated with my stern expression. Her smile vanished.

  “What’s the matter?
What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? Sit over there.” I pointed to the chair opposite. “There’s plenty wrong. I was up all night thinking about you and Judy Heller. Sit!”

  Laura’s breath stuck in her throat. She sat looking confused and innocent. Her defenses tightened.

  “What about me and Judy?”

  “I called last night but you weren’t home then the phone was busy, all night.”

  “It was off the hook. Didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Why?”

  “I was tired and needed sleep.”

  “When did you hear about Judy?”

  “Why are you playing prosecutor attacking me?”

  “Just answer.”

  She shrugged. “Yesterday. Around noon.”

  “Did you know she tried to kill me?”

  “I learned that later in the day when more information came out.”

  “You knew Judy tried to kill me and you didn’t call me? Why? Under any normal situation you would have called.”

  “Normal?”

  “Yes, normal. Why didn’t you call?”

  “I was shocked, frightened.”

  “Frightened for whom, yourself?”

  “For you.”

  Rage banged my fist on the sofa’s arm. “Damn it. Tell me the truth. Why didn’t you call?”

  “I was confused. I…forgot.”

  “Like hell you did. I’ll tell you why you didn’t call me. Shall I do that?”

  “Go ahead. It’s obvious you don’t believe me. And stop grilling me.”

  “Damn right I don’t believe you. You wanted to know about Bender and Judy for your damn cause. You brainwashed Judy with that absurd premise about saving the world. You put her up to killing Bender. You put that shit into her head. She knew your interest in Bender that you sought his downfall and she hated him enough to kill for your cause. Why did she try to kill me? Was I in her way? Was she after you? I was an obstacle to her and she couldn’t have you unless I was out of the way. Right?” My rage lost control. “Did you sleep with her?”

  I was a maniac, glaring at her, my eyes and veins popping. Seeing me in violent temper was a new experience and she cowered from my yell and rage. She covered her face with her hands to withdraw. She added fuel to my blood pressure.

  “Answer me!”

  The withdrawal aroused her hidden strength. When she removed her hands, she stared defiant into my glare.

  “I never slept with her.” She didn’t flinch and stared me down. “I became frightened when hearing about Judy and the poison capsules. When I heard about you, something came over me. She called to say she poisoned Bender because she hated him. I was terrified. I thought I’d be arrested and lose you forever. I never plotted with her to kill Bender. I couldn’t think, and took sleeping pills to escape. Please believe me.”

  I did. I remembered her condition that Friday evening, needing comfort. Now it made sense. She wept. In no mood to act compassionate or comforting, I paced the room. She watched each step.

  “Adam, I have to tell you something else.”

  I was behind the sofa at that point. “What?”

  “I told her how Bender could be killed.”

  “What do you mean you told her? When?”

  “At Bellini’s. She mentioned how much she hated Bender and why she continued to work for him, waiting for him to fall on his face, to be there when he crawled.” My head shook from disbelief. “And she told me how she despised him. I got the idea watching the hearings at your place. I told her this fantasy about poisoning the water. We laughed at the idea. I mean the subject was theory, not serious. The reason I made the trip to Washington, and I did intend to call and surprise you, was to have Judy get information on Bender. No way can I kill anybody regardless cause or reason. She had agreed to provide data on Bender. We’ve been in touch several times since then. She sent data on him. I’ll show you.” From her desk, she withdrew a bulging manila envelope and handed it to me. “Here. This is all information about Bender.”

  I accepted her evidence and let it fall to the sofa without opening the envelope. I believed her, but in no mood to read anything. She sat again.

  “She followed him nights; to a woman’s apartment in Arlington. A Mrs. Beech, she said. We hoped for a scandal to catch him in a romantic triangle to use against him. She’s a widow and the reason was to play poker with four or five others. Also, Judy invited me to a gathering Bender was going to host, an opportunity to meet him. So help me, Adam, that was the direction. The party was the next thing to follow up. We left it there. I had no idea she’d poison him.”

  I absorbed her testimony then sat on the sofa.

  “Why was she doing all that for you?”

  “I told you. She hated Bender. She had her own cause.”

  “Then why did she try to kill me?” She had no answer. “Come on, Laura. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did she make advances towards you?”

  “Yes. Words.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “No.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She preferred women.”

  “And that didn’t bother you?”

  “I needed her help.”

  “And why do you think she helped you? Were you encouraging her? Leading her on to help you?”

  “I treated her as a friend.”

  “Didn’t you think she’d want something in return? Like your affection?”

  “I didn’t consider it.”

  “Don’t act naive and innocent. That’s why she gave me the cold shoulder, why she changed towards me from friend to enemy. I was competition. To want to kill me she must have been confident winding up with you. But you said you weren’t intimate with her didn’t you?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Then she must have been mad, gone extreme because you encouraged her.”

  “I led her on that’s all to keep her interested in the Bender project.”

  “Do you realize you nearly had me murdered? You almost murdered me.”

  “Adam, don’t say that.” She lost control and cried. “I love you for you to say that. If anything happened to you I would die.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. That’s how I feel about you. I fail to understand why you keep refusing to marry me.”

  “It has nothing to do with not loving you. I want to do some things first before I commit my life to you and a family. Please be patient a few more months.”

  “I want to marry you, not to control your life.”

  “You’re unfair.”

  “What the hell is fair? Bender is dead, Laura, murdered. Assassinated is what you want to hear to justify your cause. If I had any sense I would turn you in to the police to prevent you from continuing your causes.”

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  “Do? Nothing you do will change anything.”

  “But I didn’t do it.”

  “Yes, you did. Because of you, two people are dead. Thank God, nobody else drank the water…and she almost killed me. You’re as guilty as Judy. The authorities cannot connect you. There’s no evidence.”

  “What if I confess? What if I can’t live with this guilt?”

  “Don’t be an ass. The best posture is to forget. Learn to live with the problem. The damage happened, done. Why wreck your life and mine?”

  “Do you still love me after all this?”

  “I’d love you even if you killed me, but disappointed in you. You managed to mess up my life beautifully. Maybe I’ll take a few days off and think this matter through.”

  “An excellent idea. Why don’t we go away this weekend to some restful place? I’ll make your hurt go away.”

  “No.”

  I was serious; an unexpected turn in our relationship; surprising her. She wasn’t antimagnetic to me before, against the grain. She leaned closer with a pained expression.

  “But I want to be with you,” she pleaded
.

  “I must think this out by myself. I will always love you. I don’t know if I can forgive what you did.”

  “And what will happen if you can’t forgive me?” I wasn’t sure how to answer; didn’t know how. “Answer me.”

  “I have a need to be alone.”

  “But why can’t we go away together anyway? After what happened, I need to be with you, Adam. I need you now. Please don’t make me go through this weekend without you.” I remained unreceptive. She reached out and held my hands. “Please don’t leave. Besides, look how nice making up will be.” I looked distant. “Adam? Can’t we do this together? Don’t turn me away. I need you.”

  I had to get away, stubborn enough to remain firm.

  “I need to be with my thoughts for the next few days. I’ll call you Monday. You can accept what happened for your cause. I can’t. I will never sanction murder, or killing or terrorism regardless any cause. Your having an affair with her is less important. I must do what I must do, how it is.”

  I looked at her sitting, defeated and dejected with confusion on her face needing comforting and reassurance. I headed for the door. She rushed at me and held my arms.

  “Please don’t leave.”

  I didn’t want to look into those pleading eyes to weaken. I released her arms and left.

  “Adam!”

  I kept going. She came to the doorway and watched with damp eyes as I waited for the elevator. I refused to look at her, more painful for me to leave than for her to see me go. I fought hard within to remain unyielding. My eyes were wet when the elevator reached the floor. The door opened. With head down and acting oblivious to her watching me, I entered the empty elevator without a nod, a wave, or a word.

  The elevator door closed on her day.

  Laura watched me disappear until the elevator door closed then watched the numbers above the elevator descend hoping for my return. The number one lit up and stayed lit. Then the elevator lifted. She shuffled from the doorway and positioned herself in front of the elevator. She watched the numbers rise. She tensed when it stopped at the floor below. She prayed the next stop was her floor.