Murder Is Private

by Diane Weiner

  Susan remembered the conversation she’d overheard at the police station. Alonzo and George had been at the auditorium the night the guard was attacked. Schwartz had been there too, but she hadn’t ever seen him with Kymani or George. George had come to Susan’s hospital room after her attack looking like he’d just changed into dry clothes. The arboretum, the auditorium, and the pier harbored secrets. Somehow those locations and those people were connected. Kevin said drugs were a problem on campus, but he wasn’t convinced that selling was going on in the arboretum.

  Not wanting to traipse mud into Audrey’s home, Susan took her shoes off on the stoop. She entered the house quietly and Audrey, who was on the phone, didn’t notice her coming in. Her back was turned to Susan.

  “No, it’s fine,” Susan heard Audrey say into the receiver. “She has no idea. I told her I never saw you again. Yes. I will. Bye. Love you.”

  Who was Audrey talking to? Who was the she Audrey referred to? Love you? Audrey had never mentioned a boyfriend.

  Audrey turned around and gave an involuntary scream.

  “Oh! Susan, you’re back! You’re soaked to the bone. I just put on a pot of coffee. Go change and it’ll be ready by then.” Susan went to her room and dried herself off. She changed into a pair of comfy sweat shorts and a t-shirt, then came back downstairs. Audrey sat on the sofa beside her, two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands.

  “Audrey, can you tell me any more about my father?” asked Susan. “You said it was a summer fling, but I don’t know . . . you haven’t told me his name.”

  Audrey stumbled over her words as she answered. “I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive, Susan. Haven’t seen him in 63 years. His name was … Conrad. That was it. Conrad Gilham.”

  “What did he look like? Do you have any pictures?”

  “Pictures? Heavens, no! After all these years! He was a handsome boy though. Had the bluest eyes and sandy blond hair. Smart, too. Wanted to become a lawyer. I wonder if he ever made it to law school.”

  Susan saw something in Audrey’s eyes when she spoke about him. It was the same look Lynette got when she talked about Annalise or Jason. Had Audrey been in love with him? With her biological father? Was she still?

  “Audrey, who is George’s father?”

  “I was married to him. Briefly. He was an investment banker. The no good scumbag cheated on me and that was the end of that. Never married again.”

  Chapter 28

  Susan’s nervous stomach churned all day long. The Trinity Village concert was tonight. What if the kids forget the words, or she forgets to cue a solo? She just wanted to go back home and crawl into her pajamas.

  Showtime. The chorus took the stage, and Susan lifted her baton. When they finished, the audience gave them a standing ovation…at least those who could stand, gave her one. Susan was glowing inside, proud of her students’ performances. It brought back memories.

  The male nurse hung out in his usual spot by the door, his sleeping wheelchair patient at his side. Fortunately, Susan hadn’t gotten any indication that he recognized her from the night he’d locked her in the closet. After all, it was dark then and he was in a hurry.

  Alonzo, Lynette, Annalise, Evan, and Audrey all sat in the front row. She swore she saw George in the back row, but by the time the chorus took their bows, he’d disappeared.

  “Wonderful job, Susan! Celia would have been proud,” said Alonzo.

  “Beautiful,” said Audrey. “Too bad the press wasn’t here to write something positive about our school for a change.”

  Susan saw an opportunity. “Alonzo, see that sleeping patient in the wheelchair. He’s here, sleeping, at every concert I’ve been to. Do you know his name?”

  “Can’t help you there,” replied Alonzo, shaking his head.

  “What about his nurse? Do you know him?” Susan continued, “So devoted, taking his patient to every concert, putting up with the stares from the audience once the snoring begins.”

  “Hmm,” said Alonzo, “I talked to him once or twice. I think his name is Marshall, Marco, something like that.”

  Susan knew Alonzo was lying. She’d seen him and the male nurse together and she knew they weren’t strangers. As the patients were being wheeled out of the solarium, Susan had a flashback to the night in the hospital when her roommate had died. She remembered the conversation between the nurses. “What do they do with all the leftover prescriptions when the patient dies?” Surely that situation occurred frequently here in Trinity Village. Maybe Marshall/Marco was stealing drugs from the dead patients. Could he be stealing drugs from the patients’ rooms while they were watching the concerts? she wondered.

  “Come on, Susan. Let’s go home. You have to be exhausted,” said Audrey.

  “I am.” Susan dragged her feet as she walked to the parking lot.

  Audrey’s house was dark. She hadn’t even left a light on for Wolfie. Susan never left her cats in total darkness. How could Audrey do that to her dog? Audrey unlocked the door. Susan suddenly heard music. Not violin music this time, but singing.

  “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” Her husband Mike and Lynette’s husband Jason popped out of the kitchen holding a glowing birthday cake with the number 63 on top. Susan screamed.

  “Mike! Mike, what are you doing here? I can’t believe it!” She jumped into his arms and kissed him.

  “Did you think we were going to miss your birthday?” he said, embracing his wife warmly.

  “This is the best present ever! Mike, Jason, this is Audrey.”

  “We’ve met. Who do you think let us in to surprise you?” said Mike.

  Lynette kissed Jason. She’d obviously been in on the surprise too.

  “Let’s all sit down and cut this cake before it’s smothered in melted wax,” said Audrey.

  The table was set with birthday plates and napkins.

  “This is delicious,” said Susan. As usual, she and Lynette shared the sugary roses. “I’m so touched. You all really know how to make a lady feel loved.”

  When they’d finished their cake, Lynette announced it was time for presents. She handed Susan a brightly wrapped package.

  “A present from Annalise,” said Susan, reading the tag. She tore open the wrapping paper. “Books! I love them,” said Susan. She kissed Annalise. “How did you know I love cozy mysteries?”

  “Here, Mom. It’s from all of us,” said Evan. Susan tore open a colorfully wrapped box. “Mickey Mouse ears? Umm, thank you. Always wanted these.”

  “Look under the ears,” said Lynette.

  Susan lifted the ears. “Disney passes? Really?”

  “We’re going to take a family vacation. Just like old times,” said Mike. “You have spring break next week.”

  Susan screamed. “What a great present! Thanks. Audrey, are you coming with us?”

  “No, dear,” said Audrey softly. “I think I’d better stick around here. Things are still unsettled at school and I have to do damage control with the donors.”

  “I can’t wait to see Annalise’s face when she sees Mickey and Minnie,” said Susan. “She’s going to love the It’s a Small World ride. Lynette, you loved that one, remember?”

  “I was in first grade, but, yes. I remember.”

  “As they say in Disney, we’re going to have a magical time,” said Mike.

  Chapter 29

  The deep blue sky was sprinkled with high cirrus clouds. Children were everywhere—in strollers, on shoulders, holding hands with grandparents. Colorful character balloons floated in the sky. The air smelled like popcorn and funnel cakes.

  “I can’t believe we’re here,” said Susan. She held Annalise in front of Cinderella’s castle. “Take a picture of us! Smile, Annalise.”

  “All of you get in the picture,” said Jason. “Here’s one for Facebook.”

  “The Magic Kingdom is just how I remember it, said Evan. “Let’s take Annalise on the carousel.”

  The line snaked up and down through the dividers.
Annalise squirmed in the stroller. By the time they climbed on the painted horses, Susan felt sweat stains under her arms. When she saw Annalise’s smile, however, she knew it was worth the uncomfortable wait.

  “Annalise loves this,” said Susan. The baby giggled and patted the top of the horse’s head.

  “It’s a Small World, next,” said Lynette. She hummed the tune. Another seemingly endless line. Susan’s shirt was soaked with perspiration by the time it was their turn. The whole family huddled in a colorful boat and watched the dancing dolls sing the famous song.

  “Okay, Mom. Time for Space Mountain!” said Evan.

  “No way! You know how scared I am of heights,” said Susan.

  “You were lifted up to a helicopter in the middle of the ocean,” said Evan. “That didn’t cure you of your fear?”

  “Absolutely not,” replied Susan.

  “Onward to Epcot,” said Mike. “I made dinner reservations for later.”

  By dinner time, all of them were hungry and tired. After they’d eaten, Mike looked around the table and said, “Come on, are you ready to go back to the parks? Let’s start at the World Showcase.”

  “I think we’ve reached our limit,” said Lynette. She pointed to the highchair where Annalise had fallen asleep, head on her tray.

  “Truthfully, air conditioning and a shower sounds good right now,” said Susan.

  “Back to the hotel it is then,” said Mike. “But let’s get an early start tomorrow.”

  Susan slept soundly. She’d missed snuggling up next to Mike at night. She hoped Celia’s murder case would soon be solved so she could go back home where she belonged. The next morning, they were all refreshed and ready for another magical day.

  “Off to Epcot?” said Jason.

  “Character breakfast first,” said Susan. Annalise no longer cried when she encountered live Disney Characters. Susan was looking forward to a fruitful photo op.

  After breakfast, they began touring the World Showcase at Epcot. Susan browsed the gift shop in the Germany area. She flipped through postcards and admired the expensive cuckoo clocks. Then she made her way to the jewelry section.

  “Mike, look!”

  “I can take a hint,” her husband said. “You want jewelry as a birthday souvenir.”

  “No. Well, yes, but that’s not why I pointed it out. Look at this bracelet. It’s just like the one I found in Celia’s desk. Celia is the murder victim,” she clarified for him. She picked up the bracelet and, upon closer examination, she could see this was a cheaply made copy. She called the saleswoman over.

  “Excuse me. Are these supposed to be authentic Austrian bracelets?”

  “Oh, no,” said the woman. “These are copies of the copper enamel bracelets sold in Austria. Since we have no Austrian area, the vendor sends them here to the Germany pavilion.”

  An elderly couple in the shop broke into the conversation. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re visiting from Salzburg. Bracelets like this are sold all over the city. I’m Renate and this is my husband, Gunther. Where are you from?”

  “Westbrook, New York. I’m Susan, and this is my husband, Mike. We’re down here visiting…” Susan’s mouth went dry. “We’re visiting my mother.”

  “New York? We just came from visiting New York City. Had a lovely time. Saw the New York Philharmonic. Beautiful. Heard Joshua Bell play the Brahms’s Violin Concerto. What talent!” said Renate.

  “Bet you hear lots of good music in Salzburg,” said Susan.

  “Oh, yes! Lots of Mozart especially.”

  The woman’s husband joined in. “We heard Perlman perform the Beethoven Violin Concerto on an authentic Stradivarius. It had been hidden away by the Nazis all these years.”

  “Really?” said Susan.

  “Over the past few years, a couple of valuable instruments have turned up. Hitler housed an orchestra in our city. The instruments were stolen from the Jews, then stashed away when the war was about to end. They found two cellos just before we left for our trip here.”

  “Fascinating,” said Mike. “We should get going. Enjoy your stay.”

  Just then, Lynette came into the shop. “Mom, let’s get moving before Annalise gets tired of the stroller.”

  “One thing first,” said Susan. She purchased a stuffed Minnie Mouse and handed it to the baby. Annalise hugged it and giggled.

  Eventually, the group finished walking around the lagoon, then took Annalise to see the fish tank.

  “How about some lunch?” said Mike.

  “I think Jason and I will take Annalise back to the hotel,” said Lynette. “If she takes a nap, we’ll be able to come back this evening.”

  Susan and Mike continued to tour the park. Then Susan had a brainstorm.

  “Mike, the roommate of one of my students was in the hospital recently and went home to recover at her parent’s house. She lives in a community called The Cottages. It’s less than half an hour away from here. My student gave me a present for her and asked me to deliver it to her if we got the chance while we were here.”

  Mike looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes? You have the address?”

  “I have it.”

  “Drop it off, then leave, right? I guess we can do that and come right back to MGM studios––or whatever they’re calling it these days.”

  “Thanks!” Susan ducked into the ladies room and quickly called Bibi to get Trish’s address. Bibi was thrilled that Susan was going to check on her friend.

  “Off we go,” said Susan. “I saw a sign for The Cottages on our way in.” She loaded the address into her phone and navigated. The entrance to The Cottages was straight down the highway. Inside the community, the grass was emerald green. Cute, boxy houses with names painted on the mailboxes lined both sides of the street.

  “How quaint is this?” said Susan. “Look! Everyone is driving around in golf carts.”

  “They even built special roads for them. I guess that’s doing their part to prevent global warming.”

  They knocked on Trish’s door. Luckily, Susan had purchased a glass candy dish at the park to give to Audrey. She would buy another one later to replace it.

  “Hello. I’m Susan Wiles and this is my husband, Mike. I’m a music teacher at the Hemingway School. My student, Bibi, asked if I could stop by and drop off this gift for Trish.” She showed her the candy dish. “She knew we were coming up here for a few days.”

  “Bibi, the Muslim girl?” asked Trish’s mom.

  “Yes, her roommate.”

  Trish came into the living room. She was delicate, with long blond hair and not an ounce of body fat. She certainly looked like a ballerina.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wiles?” she said joining her mother at the door, “Bibi told me you were subbing at school for Mrs. Watkins.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Maybe you should give her the present and go on back,” said Trish’s mom to Susan. “I don’t want Trish getting upset. She and Mrs. Watkins were very close and she’s taken her death very hard.”

  “Mom, it’s okay,” replied Trish. “Come in, please. Have a seat.”

  “I’ll make some coffee,” said her mother, leaving the living room.

  Susan started the conversation. “Bibi says you’ll be coming back to school soon.”

  “I want to, but unless the murder is solved, my parents won’t let me. I love it there. I miss my friends.”

  “Are you up to it? I heard you were in the hospital for quite a while,” said Susan.

  “I don’t know how I got there. Mrs. Wiles, I never took an overdose! I never tried to kill myself, like some of the rumors say.”

  “Bibi says she found bottles of pills under your bed.”

  “Shh. I don’t want Mom to hear,” Trish whispered, “I’d gotten the lead part in Swan Lake and I was so nervous, I couldn’t dance. A friend told me she took Xanax and it helped her relax enough to perform. I was getting panic attacks. I felt like I was having a heart attack and I couldn’t breathe. It was so scary. I h
onestly thought I was going to die.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your parents? Why didn’t you go to a doctor?”

  “My parents would have freaked out. They’re against all drugs. They would have made me quit dancing. I did some research on the internet and found out that Xanax, among other drugs, is useful in blocking panic attacks. I found out lots of performers have this problem.”

  “Where did you get the pills?” asked Susan.

  “I bought them in the arboretum from a guy in a hoodie. A friend hooked me up.”

  “Seriously?” Susan said, scowling. “A smart girl like you bought drugs from some guy in a hoodie? Trish, the police analyzed those pills and some of them contained far too much medication. That’s what happened to you; you took one of those pills and landed in the hospital.”

  “I was going to quit taking them. I told Mrs. Watkins all about it and she was going to set me up with a therapist to help me get control over my nerves. She was furious about the drugs being available on campus. She was going to go to the police.”

  “That’s when you took the overdose?” asked Susan.

  “I told you I didn’t mean to take an overdose. I landed in the hospital, and I don’t know if Mrs. Watkins went to the police or not. Next thing I know, I found out she’s dead.” Tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes.

  “Trish, do you have any idea who was selling the drugs?” said Susan.

  “Like I told the policeman yesterday, I have no idea. I couldn’t even identify the guy in the hoodie. He was wearing sunglasses and I couldn’t see his hair. It was dark.”

  “What policeman?” Susan scooted closer to the edge of her seat.

  “He flashed a badge. Said he was investigating.”

  “Investigating what? What did he look like?”

  “Blonde, tan, muscular. Oh, and his tooth was chipped. The one next to the front one.”

  George! Susan couldn’t believe it. It had to be George, her sneaky, lying brother. He’d been snooping around the arboretum, around the auditorium, and he’d even snuck into the concert at Trinity Village. And the security guard said he saw him the night he was attacked. What on earth was he up to? He must be connected to the drug ring somehow. Why would he come see Trish and impersonate a policeman? Probably wanted to be sure Trish couldn’t identify anyone.