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Claire Gulliver #02 - Washington Weirdos

Page 7

by Gayle Wigglesworth


  She had been astounded to learn how he had cross-indexed each joke by subject matter so he could retrieve them easily. If he had a luncheon with the Boy Scouts in Kalamazoo he could retrieve jokes about Boy Scouts, Kalamazoo, Michigan and other topical subjects before he even left home. He kept a warehouse of filing cabinets to hold the material. When he gave the collection to the Library of Congress, they immediately began logging them onto a computer database and kept a separate room in the Library so the public could access them. She didn’t want to miss a chance to browse through them.

  Claire emerged finally and hurried down the front steps only a few minutes late, but still smiling from the jokes she had been reading. She had managed to write down a few she thought the girls would enjoy, but of course, she read many more in the process of finding those. She shook her head in amazement. Somehow you take someone like Bob Hope for granted. You just think he was funny and he had good writers. You don’t think of it like a business. She had learned he used several teams of writers to concurrently write his TV shows, and then he selected the best of each for the final program. But he saved and archived all of the jokes the teams produced. He was smart. He was professional. And he was funny.

  She hurried down the steps already scanning the people gathered around the fountain. She immediately recognized Marian from the Board Meeting. The dark red hair was natural, no one would be able to fake the gray hairs sprinkled liberally through it. She was probably in her mid-forties but could have been ten years older or younger. She gave the impression of being a serious person, very simply dressed, no jewelry of any kind. Her hair was expensively cut, her clothes were costly but conservative, and she wore very little makeup. Today she had on a dove gray suit, the jacket off, folded over her arm and a matching silk sleeveless shell. Her feet were shod in Nike’s as were most of the women’s on the street, choosing comfort and mobility over fashion for their lunch hour jaunts.

  “Hi, Marian. I’m so sorry I kept you waiting. I wish I had a good excuse, but I confess I was in there chuckling over Bob Hopes jokes and just lost track of time.” She held out her hand for Marian’s firm handclasp.

  “No problem. Actually that sounds like a better excuse than most. And I came a little early, because I was given strict instructions to make sure you were not left anywhere unattended. But frankly, I was enjoying the fresh air.”

  Her piercing gaze fastened on Claire’s face. “I appreciate you taking the time to lunch with me. I know you have limited time here with lots to see and do.”

  “Not at all, but I guess I’m not quite clear as to why you wanted to meet with me.”

  Marian ignored her comment. “Do you mind walking a few blocks? The neighborhood down the street has a few restaurants which are quite good.”

  They headed down the sidewalk away from the Capital, which faced the Library. After only a couple of blocks the imposing office buildings gave way to a shady, comfortable neighborhood, dotted with restaurants which spilled out over the sidewalks, little shops which displayed a variety of goods and houses, or maybe they were flats, scrunched together, walls connecting, doorways and steps emptying directly into the pedestrians crowding the walkways.

  Marian glanced at Claire, a faint smile hovering around her mouth. “You’re not the only one wondering why I wanted to meet with you.

  “Neil called first thing this morning. He can’t stand not knowing everything that’s going on. But he’s not in charge, yet,” she added.

  Claire’s surprise was obvious.

  Marian went on. “I told him the same thing I told Suzanne when I asked to be added to your schedule. I just want to make sure you aren’t suffering any ill effects from the trauma you went through last spring. You know we have a large pool of excellent resources to treat our employees in cases of stress? And we would be happy to make these resources available to you. I know symptoms don’t surface immediately, and I thought Vantage owes it to you if you need this kind of support.”

  Marian pointed at an inviting looking restaurant and quickly guided Claire to one of the tables in front, sitting in the deep shade of the trees hanging over them.

  “Do you mind sitting outside? It’s not too hot yet, although when the breeze dies about three o’clock, everything and everyone will start to wilt. I’m cooped up in the office so much of the time I take every opportunity to breathe real air when possible.” She slipped her suit jacket over the back of her chair and picked up the menu for a quick glance.

  The next few minutes were spent deciding on lunch choices, ordering and then Marian excused herself to use the restroom while Claire sat back sipping her water and watching the restaurant fill up. As cosmopolitan as Washington was, it seemed it was still only a large village, judging by the number of people who knew each other on the increasingly crowded street. Claire was enjoying the scene, grateful that Marian had chosen to give her a glimpse of what it would be like to work here.

  “Oh, good. They brought the drinks.”

  Claire hadn’t noticed when the waitress set down their drinks and now followed with salads.

  Marian looked around their table and then, apparently judging they were far enough from neighboring patrons, leaned forward to speak to Claire, who leaned forward in response as if drawn by a magnet.

  “I really wanted to have lunch with you so I could talk to you about Carol Daley. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and finally I decided I would make up my mind when I met you. You seemed like such a normal, common-sense type of person, I decided to go for it.”

  Claire was really confused, sure that she had somehow missed something important in this conversation. But before she could ask, Marian continued.

  “Carol Daley and I were very close friends for many years. As a matter of fact, we were college roommates. When we graduated she went off to a career at Vantage while I went on to graduate school. But we always stayed in touch.

  “And it’s because of her that I’m here at Vantage. When they were searching for a new director of HR she mentioned me to a member of the search team. And, of course, after hearing her descriptions of Vantage over the years, I was very interested when approached. Anyway, it worked out well and I’ll always be grateful for her help.”

  She paused long enough to push her salad around with her fork, take a sip of her wine and then stare a minute at her plate as if wondering what to do with it.

  “I don’t think anyone knows we were friends, at least no one in management. Not that either of us tried to hide it. But by the time I started, she was already in the process of transferring to London.”

  Marian peered at Claire intently, as if willing her to understand. “You see she became involved with a married man and had finally decided to make the break. She thought London was far enough away to make sure her resolve to stop seeing him held. That was four years ago. I know it was very hard for her, but she was determined to break out of a no-win situation.

  “That’s why I was shocked when I talked to her the day before the incident in London. She called me at the office, which she never did. She was very upset and wanted to talk. He had called her. He said he had divorced his wife and was now free, but she was ambivalent about getting involved with him again. She said the time and distance had given her a different perspective and she wasn’t sure she really trusted him. We talked only a short time as I had a meeting. So I said I’d call her back later. There was no later.”

  When Marian looked up she was blinking rapidly, fighting the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m having real difficulty dealing with her death. But even worse, I just can’t believe she was involved in a plot to blow up the airline. She loved Vantage Airlines. And she was always so conscientious. How could she have ignored the rules to allow Rosa access? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Claire looked at her helplessly; the sandwich the waitress had delivered suddenly tasteless and dry.

  Marian used her napkin to dab her eyes dry, shaking her head. “No, no, I don’t expect you to solve
this for me, but I wanted you to tell me everything about your encounter with her and what exactly happened as far as you can remember. You know, your impression of her, how she looked, how she acted? I’m hoping something will come up to help explain it to me. Will you do that?”

  Claire shook her head as if clearing her confusion.

  “Please, I know it’s hard for you but I need to know. I just can’t believe the Carol Daley you met was the Carol Daley I knew so well.” Then she grabbed her purse off the cement by her feet and rummaged around to hand Claire a picture. “This is Carol. Are you absolutely sure this is your Carol?”

  A younger version of Carol Daley smiled gaily against the background of a porch somewhere. She handed it back sadly. “This is the Carol Daley I met. I’m so sorry.”

  This time Marian couldn’t stop the tears leaking from her eyes, dabbing again, futilely, with the napkin.

  “The problem is...” Claire began thoughtfully, “...the problem is that I’m no longer sure exactly what I remember and what memories have been changed from things I’ve learned since. I can’t trust my memories to be accurate.”

  Marian nodded. “I understand, but please try. I need some closure or a clue. I don’t know why I feel I have to solve this, but it will haunt me all my life if I don’t.”

  Claire understood that feeling. So she went back in her memory to that place in time when she met Carol Daley at London’s Heathrow Airport and how grateful she was to have someone else take charge of their group. She pulled up her impressions of the efficient but nice Customer Service Manager, recalling how smoothly she got everyone processed and to the correct boarding area. She talked of the incident at the security gates where the recalcitrant Rosa again caused a problem. And she told how relieved she was when Carol was able to bend the rules to allow Rosa to pass, because leaving her behind in London didn’t seem like a viable option.

  Marian and Claire sat quietly for a moment, thinking about the incident Claire had just described in detail.

  Marian asked a few questions but then shook her head. “There doesn’t seem to be anything new for me. I know I shouldn’t be disappointed, but...” she shook her head in frustration, “I am disappointed.”

  “Did you ever meet this man she was involved with? I mean, do you know who he is? Perhaps he has some clues?”

  “No, she never told me. In fact, she was so tight-lipped about him I just assumed I would recognize who he was if she used his name. After all, this is Washington, D.C. The city is filled with legislators who are rather well known for their extramarital affairs. So she never gave me a clue,” she mused. “Still, maybe she told someone in her family.”

  Then she said forcefully, “No! No, she’d never admit to them she was involved with a married man. But maybe one of her other friends might know. I know a few of them from years ago. I’ll get in touch with them and see what I can find out.”

  “Marian, did you ever tell any of this to the authorities when they interviewed you?”

  Marian was surprised. “I wasn’t interviewed. No one asked me any questions about her. I received requests for documents from her personnel file, but that was it.”

  She looked at Claire thoughtfully. “Do you think I should have? I mean, I can’t see how it would impact their investigation.”

  Claire shrugged. “It wouldn’t seem as if it would, but you can never tell what will be important. I think I should at least mention it to Jack. Let him decide if it’s something to pursue. After all, you don’t know who her lover was, but you do know he arrived back in her life just before the incident. And we know she received at unidentified phone call before she went up to assist us at Heathrow. What if the two were connected somehow?”

  Both women lapsed into silence considering the ramifications of Claire’s question. The breeze had died down and Claire was suddenly feeling the heaviness of the humid air descending on her. She abandoned the sandwich as hopeless and finished her iced tea. She saw Charlie guide the big dark blue car to the curb and glanced at her watch, surprised at how fast the lunch hour had gone by.

  “Marian, Charlie is here to pick me up. Did you tell him where we were?”

  She nodded. “I called when I went in to the restroom. Look, Claire, thanks a lot for your help. Go ahead and talk to Jack and see what he thinks. I prefer not to tell Wiley about it unless Jack thinks it’s important. I don’t mind Wiley knowing, but Neil is liable to make a big deal out of it.”

  She looked at Claire thoughtfully. “I know I was being indiscreet earlier, which is really not like me. Personnel people are known for being neutral and discreet and I’m usually that way. But today, maybe thinking so much about Carol, I just lost it. I do apologize.”

  Claire nodded. “Can we give you a ride back to the office?”

  Marian shook her head, reaching for what was left of her wine. “No, no thanks. I’ll finish up here and wander back. I need some thinking time. But if you remember anything else, please call me directly.” She took out one of her cards and quickly wrote two numbers on the back. “The second one is my cell phone, but leave a message at either and I’ll get back to you.” She tried to smile, not quite pulling it off. “Thanks, Claire. Thanks again for your time.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The air-conditioned interior felt wonderful.

  “Hope you had a nice morning, Ms. Gulliver?”

  “I did. Thank you for asking...and for picking me up. Where do we go next?”

  Charlie chuckled. “I feel like a tour director.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side and when he got settled he continued. “We’re meeting Jack at the Lincoln Memorial. I understand he has your afternoon planned. I hope he brought along an umbrella ’cause it’s gonna rain.”

  “That will be a relief. It was pleasantly warm and then it became so muggy.”

  “Well, our storms don’t necessarily mean respite from the humidity. You’ll see. But I heard there was a front moving this way, which could give us a break by tomorrow. Just in time for Mrs. Lickman’s do.”

  She had been warned about how awful the weather could be at this time of the year, but actually she thought it had been quite nice. Yesterday afternoon had gotten kind of sticky, but they had been out at the pool most of the time. So she didn’t suffer from it. And today she had dressed for the heat, wearing her loose two-piece dress and comfortable sandals, a compromise for tourist activities and still suitable, she hoped, for dinner with Jack. She grinned, congratulating herself for not dressing as the two tourists she saw on the sidewalk – he was in a loud Hawaiian shirt with matching shorts, she in shorts and a halter top, and both were sporting baseball caps with fans built into the bill.

  When the car pulled up to the curb in a lot filled with tour buses, taxies and limousines, Jack hurried over to open the door before Charlie could get around the car. He looked cool in a light green, short-sleeved, golf shirt, cream colored linen-like pants, Nike’s and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

  “Got your umbrella?” Charlie demanded. “Gonna rain.”

  “No. I didn’t bring one.”

  “I have a spare. Just send it back with Ms. Gulliver.” He popped the trunk, rummaged around and returned with a folded up umbrella.

  “Thanks.” Jack slipped it into his backpack as Charlie left them.

  “What else is in there?” Claire questioned, thinking how like him it was to come prepared.

  “A couple of hats. Did you bring one?” At her head shake he went on. “I didn’t think so, but after a while in the sun you’ll be glad to wear this.” He pulled out two Day-Glo orange baseball caps.

  “Nice color.”

  “Hey, if we get separated in a crowd you’ll appreciate the color.”

  He rooted around a bit pulling out a book. “A guidebook in case you ask questions I can’t answer, and some water because it’s going to be hot.”

  “Pretty impressive. I feel like I’m going on a Scout hike.” She put the hat on, ignoring the color.
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  Jack put on his hat, fastidiously adjusting the brim.

  “Okay. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  Jack moved through the crowd of tourists to the path around the Lincoln Memorial. “I thought we’d start with the Vietnam Memorial since that was top on your list. That way we can stay as long as we want, or at least as long as we can bear the heat. Then, depending on time, we’ll check out the Korean War Memorial. It’s fairly new and not as well publicized, but I think very impressive. And of course, we’ll visit the Lincoln Memorial.”

  Claire was happy to follow his lead, grateful already for the shade the hat provided for her face. She craned her neck as they passed the Lincoln Memorial. She had seen pictures of it all her life and couldn’t believe it was just there with the huge statue of the seated Lincoln for everyone to see. They wandered further down the tree lined path and she didn’t even notice the start of the Wall. It was almost a curb of shiny black stone, increasing in size as the path dipped down, and suddenly she saw the pattern on the black granite was really an endless list of names.

  The number of people on the path increased, moving in both directions. It seemed a strange mixture. There were families pushing babies in strollers and trying to keep track of little ones darting here and there. Groups of teenagers joked, calling out to each other as they traversed the path, seemingly unaware of the significance of the Memorial. An older couple in front of Claire and Jack stopped abruptly, the woman burst into tears as she traced a name with her fingers. The man with her, most likely her husband, hunched in on himself, his misery showing clearly in the stance his body took.

 

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