She smiles, like she's delighted to see an old friend.
“Hello, Mr. Ceepak.”
“Hello, Ashley.”
“Thank you for doing your duty. Thank you for shooting Squeegee for us.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Ashley? Be still!”
“Yes, Mother.”
Ashley's hands instinctively go up to her head to block the blows that don't come. Not this time.
Ashley retreats to her bed, afraid to look anybody in the eye.
“I'm sorry, Mommy.”
“Be quiet.”
Ceepak pivots so he's facing Betty Bell Hart.
“I wonder if you'd leave us alone for a few minutes.”
The woman rubs her hands together nervously like she's washing them with air.
“Chief Cosgrove told me you shot the homeless man. That you killed him.”
When Ceepak does not reply, she takes this as an admission of guilt.
“Shall I call Robert? See how that's going for you? I'm sure you acted in self-defense….”
“As I stated earlier, the chief has been unexpectedly detained.”
“Is it the FBI? Are they involved?”
“Yes, ma'am. I guess you could say they are.”
“I'm so sorry. For you. Your reputation. Your family….” She shakes her head, as if in sad sympathy.
“I need to speak with Ashley,” Ceepak says. “Alone.”
This seems to irritate Betty.
“I don't mind, Mommy….”
Betty puts a rigid finger to her lips. A silent warning.
“But I like Mr. Ceepak.”
“No!” Betty's neck tightens. She glares at her daughter.
“He's nice, Mommy….”
And Betty's nice and mad. In fact, all of a sudden, she's trembling mad. Her pancake makeup is cracking. Near her eyes I can see jagged lines that look like those high-pressure systems she used to draw on weather maps.
“Ma’ am….” Ceepak begins.
Betty cuts him off.
“What do you want? No. Don't tell me. I see it in your eyes. You men all want the same thing. You can't wait to be alone with my beautiful little girl, can you? Alone in her bedroom.”
“Miss Bell, I assure you….”
“Well, I won't let you. I am Ashley's guardian!”
“I know that, ma'am.”
“But do you know what that means? I have to protect her. From men. Men like you!” Her voice is shrill, like steel wheels screeching to a stop.
Ceepak moves a step closer. He practically whispers.
“Ma’am—is someone molesting your daughter?”
She stares into Ceepak's eyes.
Then she smiles.
“Not anymore. We took care of that. The same way you took care of Squeegee.”
Now she winks.
I'm not sure I follow but it looks like Ceepak does. I see sadness seeping into his eyes again.
Betty drifts toward the bed.
“I'm a good guardian, aren't I, Ashley?”
“Yes, Mommy. The best.”
“Tell them.”
“Mommy is my guardian angel.”
“When Ashley was little? She called me her ‘gardening’ angel. Didn't you, dear?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
Betty sits on the bed and lightly taps the mattress, commanding her daughter to come sit next to her. She hits us with her high beams. Her blazing weather girl smile.
“Isn't my daughter sweet? Pretty, too.”
Ashley squirms. Betty pats Ashley's knee.
“That's why her father would not be denied,” Betty says. “Oh no. There was absolutely no denying Mr. Reginald Hart. Not when he wanted something. But we could negotiate terms. Couldn't we, dear?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
Oh man. I should've seen it. The older guy? It's her father.
Betty takes Ashley's hand and squeezes it tight. Too tight.
“Mommy?”
“Quiet!”
“Let go of her hand, ma'am.”
“Of course, Officer Ceepak. Of course.” She sniffs the air. “Do you like Ashley's perfume? Reginald certainly did. Drove him wild. I picked it out myself. At Victoria's Secret? Are you familiar with the scent?”
“I've smelled it before,” says Ceepak.
“Smell triggers memory faster than any of our senses. Did you know that?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Then you know if that bag lady, I believe her name is Gladys, yes, if Gladys were to ever smell a recently discharged sniper rifle, perhaps in court, why she'd remember everything she saw and heard at that hotel, wouldn't she?”
“I'm sure she would.”
“So, Officer Ceepak—you and I are eternally linked. Tangled together in our twisted webs of vengeance.”
“I can understand why you might think that.”
“Would you like to know how and when when it started?”
“Mommy? We're never supposed to tell anybody.”
“Oh, we can tell Officer Ceepak. He's on our side, now. He has to be after what he did. And these others? They're in it with him.” Now she's smiling at Jane and me. “Destroying evidence? Helping Officer Ceepak hunt down an innocent man? Shame on you two. You're both part of a big, fat conspiracy and cover-up, aren't you? Well, you'll keep quiet. You have to. Don't they, Johnny?”
Ceepak doesn't say a word.
“Ashley, of course, acted in self-defense. Your friend Ceepak understands. He would have done the same thing. Officer Ceepak doesn't like men who fornicate with small children. No. Not after what that priest did to his little brother. That's why he killed Squeegee.”
Ashley smiles prettily up at Ceepak.
“Thank you,” she tells him again.
“Miss Bell? Why don't you explain it to Danny? Everything. I'm sure he'd like to know, to understand.”
“Hmmm. Very clever. I see what you're up to, Johnny. Dragging your partner and this policewoman in deeper. Making them full accomplices. Smart. Very smart. Let's see … I should give you a little background. Would that be helpful young man?”
She's asking me. Smiling. Her teeth have all been capped. I can see metal rims. But that's not the only reason her grin reminds me of a mechanical witch from The Haunted Castle over on the boardwalk.
I say nothing, but I don't need to. She hesitates a moment then flashes a look to the guy she figures is her big-time co-conspirator: Ceepak.
Still beaming, still bright and sunny, Betty totally focuses on me.
“It all started when Ashley was three….”
Great. Ceepak has pried open the door but all the sick-o stuff is going to come tumbling out on top of me.
“Reginald would crawl into Ashley's bed and start tickling her. Tickle Bug he called it. Then he'd rub up against her soft pajamaed bottom with his erection. Do you know what he said the first time I caught him? That he was having a dream. A dream that he was with me, not Ashley. I, of course, believed him. I believed him for far too long.”
Yeah. I'd say so.
“Later, when I found the photographs—”
“He took photographs?” Jane is incredulous.
“Yes. Indeed. Of him and Ashley having intercourse. Ashley was four or five at the time….”
“Four, Mommy. My birthday, remember?”
“Hush, honey. Mommy's talking. Yes. That's right. It was right after the party with all her little friends … I suppose the event aroused Reginald….”
Ashley bows her head and stares at her hands.
“Why didn't you alert the proper authorities?” Jane asks.
Betty Bell stares at her like she's the silliest woman on earth.
“And whom might these proper authorities be? Someone Reginald did not already own? Some judge? Some police officer beyond his financial reach?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Oh, grow up. Reggie knows people. The kind who burn down buildings. Who kill people. No. I could not alert anybody. I could, however, negotiate a
deal. He and I would divorce and, if he wanted … certain visitation privileges….”
Holy shit. She pimped her daughter.
“… well, those would cost extra. Maybe a beach house and butler? A trip to Paris? If we wanted to ski in Vail? Why, Reggie could purchase an extra weekend with Ashley. And the will. I was insistent about his will. Ashley must receive everything he owned. Reginald agreed. It was only fair.” She pats her daughter on the knee. “We were looking out for her future.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
“Who am I?”
“You are my guardian angel.”
The two sunny blondes beam at each other on the bed.
“If you and Mr. Hart had it all worked out,” Ceepak says, “why'd you need to kill him?”
“Now that was not my fault. No, sir. You can blame that little matter on that bitch with the briefcase. She was the one—encouraging Reggie to re-write his will. Been nagging him about it for months. ‘Oh, certainly,’ she told him, ‘leave your daughter something. But not everything.' As if a few million dollars would be adequate compensation. No. We couldn't let Ms. Stone do that to us. We simply could not.”
“So you had Ashley shoot him.”
“That's right.”
Ashley tugs her mother's sleeve.
“Can we tell them how we did it, Mommy?”
“Of course, sweetheart. We're all in this together.”
She looks at me this time.
“Aren't we, Danny?”
It dawns on me: I was another part of the chief's plan. I was the one who'd make sure Ceepak was always where they needed him to be.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess so.”
We're all in this shit together pretty damn deep.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Did you actually believe Reginald Hart would be caught dead sitting in the Tilt-A-Whirl at a cheap seaside amusement park?” Betty says. “Oh. I guess he was. He was caught dead.”
They giggle like sisters sharing a secret joke.
“That's funny, Mommy.”
Betty loves having an audience hanging on her every word, even if those words are, basically, a murder confession.
“The two of them didn't go there because Reggie liked bending the rules! Or because Ashley had a turtle named Stinky!”
“Stinky!” Ashley giggles some more. “That's such a silly name for a turtle!”
“The whole Tilt-A-Whirl scenario was preposterous! But Chief Cosgrove knew the comings and goings of certain vagrants who frequented the spot and would provide us with a convenient scapegoat. Someone for Officer Ceepak to go shoot, thereby curtailing any investigation that might eventually lead to us.”
“Mr. Ceepak?” Ashley's eyes look so innocent staring at her hero. “I'm sorry I lied to you.”
“You did not lie!” Betty says sweetly. “Officer Ceepak simply chose to believe what you told him.” She winks at him. “Bob told me you had a soft spot for children—especially children in any sort of danger.”
Ceepak turns to Ashley.
“Tell me what happened that morning at the Tilt-A-Whirl.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“Yes dear. They need to know so they can help us keep it secret.”
“Okay.” Ashley smoothes out her pants like I've seen her mother smooth out a skirt. “I told Daddy that the Tilt-A-Whirl was where all the really cool kids went nowadays to make out. I told him I wouldn't do any of the stuff he wanted me to do, not in the beach house, anyway. Not with Ms. Stone staying in the guest cottage and all.”
“Then what?”
“Let's see. We had to get up real, real early Saturday morning because we had to do everything before the beach got crowded and while you two were still eating pancakes. Ms. Stone dropped us off and we ran around to the beach and snuck in under the fence. I had my beach bag….”
The bag we found with the cartoon monkey on it.
“… ‘cause that's where I had the gun. Uncle Bob got it for me.”
“Chief Robert Cosgrove is Uncle Bob?” Ceepak asks.
“Yes. He and Mommy are dating….”
“Ashley, sweetie, that's not correct. I've told you: We're simply two adults who enjoy each other's company.”
“Anyway,” Ashley moves on, “Mommy was late.”
“Only a few minutes.”
“She was supposed to pick up the gun from the little tunnel under the fence right after seven….”
“But I had to be at the bank at seven … the time we scheduled for the actual shooting.”
“Then she needed a ciggy-boo.”
“Ashley?”
“You did!”
“Dear. Please.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“I can tell my story?”
“I'm sorry.”
Betty beams at us.
“Suffice it to say—I missed my cue … ever so slightly….”
And dropped your ciggy-boo butt on the beach.
“But I got there, didn't I, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“It was my job to take the gun. If Ashley had a pistol tucked in her panties, why even you might have figured something was awry. Where are my cigarettes now, honey?”
“In the other room?”
“Be a sweetie. Fetch them for Mommy.”
Ashley stands up. Ceepak motions for her to sit back down.
“Later.”
“I'd really like a cigarette….”
“Just finish walking us through it.”
“Fine.” She sighs. Smiles. She can flip a scowl into “say cheese” faster than anybody I've ever met.
“Ashley climbed over the chain-link fence at the entrance— something we practiced at the playground—ran up Ocean Avenue, and put on the performance of her life!”
“I'm a very good actress, aren't I?”
Ceepak nods. “One of the best I've ever seen.”
“And this was way harder than Our Town! I had like so much stuff to memorize….”
“Ashley? Why don't you give them a brief encore?”
Ashley stands up, takes a deep breath.
“My fa … fa … fa … ther! He killed my father! The crazy man. The crazy man!”
“She's good, isn't she? All right, dear. Sit back down. Thank you. You, of course, can see why she won the drama competition at her school two years running!”
“You know what my favorite part was?” Ashley says, looking right at me. “The free fudge at Pudgy's!”
Mom shoots her a look.
“Fudge? No wonder you're so fat. Have you seen how big her bottom has become? Anyway, where were we? Oh, yes—Bob picked Ashley up in his chief's car and reminded her what Squeegee looked like. Showed her some photographs we had taken of the man….”
“Later, I forgot about the beard,” Ashley says. “About what kind it was. Uncle Bob helped me!”
“So did I. When I brought you down to the beach house….”
Ceepak's had enough of the Betty Bell show. He wants to change the channel.
“Tell me about the kidnapping, Ashley.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“Yes, dear.”
I can tell Betty hates sharing the spotlight. But ever the good Weather Gal, she realizes it's time to toss things over to the Sports Guy.
“Okay. Let's see. I climbed out of my window and all to make it look like, you know, I really was sneaking out to see Ben. I had to be real quiet. Uncle Bob was on the beach with his boat … but he was wearing these hiking boots with his swimsuit and that made him look so silly. I called Ben on my cell from the rowboat….”
“What happened after the boat ride?” Ceepak asks.
“Uncle Bob took me to the train depot and I stayed in my room like Mommy told me to do.”
“The baggage room?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You stayed there all Saturday night and Sunday?”
“Yes, sir. It was k
ind of scary and I couldn't leave or make any noise or I'd ruin everything. I peed in my pants.”
“Ashley? Really. Do we need to know that?”
“Sorry, Mommy.”
“Must've been hard,” Ceepak says. “Up there all alone.”
“It was.”
“We all made sacrifices,” says her mother the martyr.
“Can I have my bracelets back?” Ashley asks shyly.
“The ones we found?”
“Yes. Uncle Bob made me drop them so you would find clues and stuff. Can I have those back? My daddy bought them for me….”
“She doesn't want them,” Betty says. “Throw them away. Burn them.”
“Mommy?”
“We'll buy new bracelets. We're very rich now, remember?”
Ashley drops her head again.
“By the way….” Betty lowers her voice. “Did Chief Cosgrove offer you three people any of our money? I don't really think you've done enough to warrant payment;
however, if Bob made certain promises….”
“What'd you do while you waited in the baggage room?” Ceepak asks Ashley.
“Nothing,” Ashley mumbles.
“She ate candy bars and drank soda pop!” Her mother sounds very disappointed in her.
I hear the apartment door open.
I look down the hall and see Morgan and a couple of his guys.
Betty is watching me. “Who's that?”
“I think it's the cavalry.”
She ignores me and goes to the door.
“Oh, god. Did they follow you here? Hush, Ashley!” Betty hisses. “Not another word.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
Ceepak calls out to Morgan.
“Hey!”
“Hey,” the FBI agent answers. “We'll wait out here, in the foyer.”
“Thanks.”
“Officer Ceepak?” Betty is puzzled.
“Yes?”
“Do they know about you and Squeegee?”
“Yes, ma'am. They know I didn't shoot him.”
“What?”
“I did not shoot Squeegee. By the way—his real name? It's Jerry Shapiro.”
“You didn't shoot him?”
“No, ma'am. You see, I gave my word that I would not.”
“So … ?”
“We're not in this together.”
All of a sudden, there's this squeal of feedback.
“Sorry about that,” Morgan calls from the foyer, adjusting the volume on the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt.
Tilt-a-Whirl (The John Ceepak Mysteries) Page 25