by Leena Clover
Leo had been the closest to Charlie. He was best equipped to tell us anything about Charlie’s lifestyle and his habits.
“Can you get him to confess?”
“I just want to find out what really happened. I still think Leo’s innocent. But if he’s responsible, I won’t let him get away.”
It had taken me some time to come to terms with this concept. But I had to think like that if I wanted to be objective.
“Did you find out anything new?” Stan asked.
He seemed eager for information.
“Not a lot. Can’t do much from a thousand miles away.”
“Any little bit will be more than what we have right now, Meera.”
“Well, Charlie was a cold fish. He didn’t spread any cheer around, that’s for sure. He wasn’t rude, but neither was he warm and fuzzy.”
“That sounds like the man I knew.”
“Audrey Jones is lazy and incompetent. She had an exclusive contract to work for Charlie Gibson only, but she did other work on the sly.”
“You’re talking about that housekeeper of his?”
“Yes, Stan. A housekeeper who is suddenly flush with money.”
“How do you know that?”
“She’s acting like a lady of leisure, turning up for coffee at the diner. She’s never been able to afford that before, apparently.”
“She’s got a lot of time on her hands now,” Stan mused.
“Don’t you see, Stan? You think someone stole money from Charlie. Leo says he didn’t. Now here’s a person who has more money than she should. Maybe it was Audrey who dipped into Charlie’s wallet?”
“You’re saying she killed him for the money?”
“Not exactly! But she could have taken the money before she called the cops.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Stan relented. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Anna Collins is a bit too eager to pin the crime on Leo.”
“How so?”
“Well, I sent Becky to go look around Charlie’s house.”
“What’s there to look for, Meera?”
“We’ll find out soon, won’t we? So anyway, Becky knocked on Anna’s door. She wasn’t in but she turned up at the diner later, just to tell Becky she saw Leo jump out of the window.”
“Hmm…” Stan was noncommittal.
“What kind of outdoor lights does Charlie Gibson have?”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Anna says she saw Leo at 7:30 PM. It’s barely Spring and it’s dark at 7:30. How could she be sure it was Leo? Does Charlie have a brightly lit yard, or one of those motion detectors?”
Stan let out an expletive.
“We never checked on that.”
Stan Miller misses a lot of things. But he’s at least becoming amenable to suggestions. The Stan Miller I knew a year ago wouldn’t even have entertained this idea.
“How many other neighbors does Charlie have?”
“The usual, I suppose.”
What I meant to ask was how many of them had the police talked to. I had to spell it out for Stan.
“Well, we were going to interview the people who have houses in the cul de sac. Then Anna Collins came forward.”
“And you took her at her word.”
Stan was quiet.
“She seems to be happy Charlie’s gone. What did she have against him? Did they have some kind of feud going on?”
Stan obviously didn’t know the answer to that.
“I’m going to talk to her tomorrow,” he said with some resolve.
“Let’s say Leo did not take the money. Actually, leave the money out of this completely. What did anyone gain by killing Charlie Gibson?”
“What’s the motive, you mean?” Stan asked.
I let him stew over it for a while.
“Did Charlie do anything out of the ordinary the last few days of his life? What was his routine? Who did he talk to other than Leo or Audrey?”
“I’m going to talk to those neighbors tomorrow,” Stan promised.
I hung up and sat back on my bed, leaning against the counterpane. There had to be more information out there about Charlie. What was I missing? I remembered my craft store purchase and took it out.
“What’s that?” Jeet asked.
I took out a stack of index cards and some colored pens. These would have to do in the absence of a white board. I made a card for Charlie Gibson, Leo Smith, Anna Collins and Audrey Jones. These were the only people we had come across so far.
I picked up Charlie’s card first and wrote out what I had learned about him. I wrote his schedule on the back of the card.
“Pappa thinks Charlie didn’t talk much. But there have to be things he knows. They have known each other all these years.”
Tony looked at me.
“Want to go and talk to him?”
“Why not?”
Pappa would probably shoo me out this late at night but it was a chance worth taking. I knocked on Motee Ba’s door and went in. Pappa was sitting up in bed, snug under the covers. Some old Hollywood movie was playing on the TV. He was sipping brandy and hot water from a glass. It is the Patel family remedy for a cold, actual or imagined.
“Your Pappa’s sniffling a bit.”
Motee Ba confirmed my suspicions.
“Can we talk for a while?” I asked Pappa.
He made a face but he didn’t say no. I plunged ahead.
“I’m trying to piece together what Charlie did on his last day. And also what he may have done the last few days before he died.”
“Go on,” Pappa said.
“Sylvie said he went to the library before he had lunch. And he did that every Tuesday.”
“He had things marked for every day of the week. He did one or two chores every day. Kept him busy, he said.”
“What did he do the rest of the day?”
“Went for a walk, watched TV, walked that dog of his.”
I had completely forgotten about the dog.
“He has a dog, right? I guess he had to walk him at least twice a day.”
“What are you getting at, girl?”
I wasn’t quite sure.
“Did he ever mention someone called Anna?”
Pappa didn’t remember much. Then he sat up straight.
“Bank day!” he exclaimed. “Wednesday was bank day. He went to the bank and withdrew a hundred dollars for weekly expenses.”
“What would they be?”
“How do I know?” Pappa boomed. “Groceries, gas, miscellaneous stuff…”
“He must be spending almost all of it by Tuesday evening.”
“He barely had ten dollars left,” Pappa nodded. “And whatever he had, he put in a box for savings.”
“Any idea what he did with it?”
Pappa shrugged, looking impatient.
I bid them goodnight and we went back to our room.
“I’ve never agreed with this idea that Leo stole money,” I mused. “Stan said they recognized one of the bills Leo had, remember?”
“You think this was left over from the 100 Charlie got from the bank?” Tony asked.
Was that the only money Leo had? Stan hadn’t mentioned that. I called him again.
“Leo had 70 odd dollars with him,” Stan said in a sleepy voice. “And he says he spent around 20-30 on gas and food on the road.”
“There’s no way it could all have come out of Charlie’s weekly expenses.”
I told Stan about the $100 Charlie withdrew from the bank each Wednesday.
“This is a puzzle alright. Of course, Leo still maintains Charlie gave him the money.”
“Can you find out how much Charlie withdrew from the bank last week?”
Stan promised to add that to his list of things to do. It was growing by the minute.
Jeet was fast asleep when I hung up the phone. Tony was lying flat on his bed, looking drowsy.
“How come Leo never asked you for a job?”
Kid
s from town often turn up at Tony’s gas station, looking to make an extra buck.
Tony turned on his side and yawned.
“Did you hear Leo’s getting out on bail?”
Tony sat up after that.
“So someone’s taking care of him after all.”
“But who is it and where were they all this time?”
Tony didn’t have an answer for that.
“I can’t wait to talk to Leo,” I groaned.
“You can do that tomorrow morning,” Tony said pointedly.
I shuffled the cards in my hands. I remembered the twitching curtain Becky had mentioned. There was one more person we could talk to. I placed a question mark on one card. Becky would have to go talk to this person.
I changed into my jammies and tried to settle down. My mind buzzed with questions. I wished I could drink some herbal tea to calm down. The little electric clock on the nightstand read 12:30. We were meeting for breakfast in the hotel dining room at 7 AM. My back ached from the hours spent in the car. I really needed to sleep.
My eyes fell on the packet of photos. I began looking through them again. An earlier memory resurfaced. I peered closely at a photo. There it was, the small symbol I had noticed in the restroom. But the photo was from the campground in the mountains of New Mexico. I found another small doodle in a different photo. We were standing close to a sign that said Welcome to New Mexico. And there it was, a small circle with long and short lines radiating from it. It looked like the sun to me.
I skipped through the photos rapidly and arranged them in an order, starting from the few we had taken in Oklahoma. I looked at each of them closely. Some of them had these small doodles in the queerest places, on sidewalks, walls of gas stations, or picnic tables at the visitor’s center. I had come across some 5-6 different symbols. I didn’t know what else to call them. I could make no sense out of them.
Finally, my mind couldn’t handle the overload. My eyelids grew heavy and I settled into a dreamless sleep as the hour struck 2 AM.
Chapter 13
Tremors rippled through my bed and a cacophony of crashing cymbals forced me awake. I buried my head in my pillow, trying to get away from this inhuman onslaught on my senses. The noise went up and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I peeped through an eye at a crazy sight. The TV was cranked up high with some heavy metal song. Tony and Jeet, freshly showered, were singing along, jumping around the room, miming along with the video. Jeet saw me and gave a Tarzan like yell.
“You’re in so much trouble, Meera,” he crowed, pointing to the clock by my bedside.
The red LED lights couldn’t be right, could they? It was 6:45 and I had barely slept a wink. I looked around and found the printed photos, arranged in neat piles. I had dreamt of being on some kind of treasure hunt, trying to decode symbols on pillars and walls. I remembered arranging the photos in a certain order. So it wasn’t just my imagination. I couldn’t separate dreams from reality at that point.
I shooed the boys out and rushed into the shower. Of course they had run through all the hot water. I shivered under the freezing jets but they helped clear the cobwebs from my head. I pulled on a clean pair of jeans and dressed in layers. The day would get warmer before it turned cold again.
The phone rang as I was swiping my lips with some gloss. It was Becky. Luckily for me, she got to the point.
“Audrey was here.”
I looked at the clock and realized Becky was an hour ahead.
“She ordered the breakfast special,” Becky whispered.
I had no interest in what Audrey Jones put in her body. I am not her doctor or fitness trainer.
“Did you talk to her?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient.
“I told her we knew she was working for other people. She denied it at first. Then she said she wasn’t going to upset people by turning them down.”
“What about that contract with Charlie?”
“She agreed to that 20 years ago when Charlie first hired her. She figured he must have forgotten about it by now.”
“But why did she take on the other jobs? Did she need the money?”
“Not really, she said. Charlie paid her very well. She got bored.”
I tried to make sense of that. Becky explained.
“Charlie didn’t let her watch TV. He didn’t chat with her. She liked getting away for a change of scene.”
“More like a chance to gossip,” I muttered. “Did you ask her about Charlie’s schedule?”
“You could set your clock by him,” Becky went on. “He made his own breakfast every day. Then he took that dog of his for a walk. He walked for an hour or so. Then he did his chore of the day.”
“Pappa told me about that. He had a task specified for every day, it seems.”
“Tuesday was for the library,” Becky droned on. “Groceries twice a week. And there was other stuff I don’t remember.”
“When did Audrey go to work?”
“He let her in before he went for this morning walk. She was to have his snack ready by 10:15. Then he went out again at 11.”
“So she went in and made a snack for him first.”
“No, she made lunch. The snack was juice and a muffin that was store bought. Sometimes he came in to Sylvie’s for coffee.”
I tried to imagine such a cut and dried schedule. I am not built that way. Every day has to offer something new.
“So what? She cleaned the house and made lunch?”
“That’s right. Charlie ate lunch at home except on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Then he napped. Audrey was supposed to make herself scarce at this time.”
“You mean she had to go out of the house?”
“I’m not sure about that,” Becky said. “But I think so. She wasn’t allowed to put her feet up or guess what, watch TV. Other people let her do that, it seems.”
I remembered what Aunt Reema had said. Other people probably weren’t around to keep an eye on her. So she did as she pleased. It looked like Audrey’s other jobs were just a place to while away time.
“Then what? She went back?”
“Right. She got dinner while Charlie walked that dog again. Dinner was at 6:30. She just served it at once on the table and left.”
“Did she talk about Leo at all?”
“He helped her with some of her chores when Charlie wasn’t around.”
Audrey had provided a fair idea of what a day in Charlie Gibson’s life looked like. Was any of it going to help me get to the truth?
“What else, Becky?”
“I may have mentioned Anna Collins,” Becky said.
I could sense she was holding back on the real thing.
“Spit it out, sister!”
“You won’t believe this, Meera. You know Anna’s son, that scary guy? We knew he’s a bad one. But we didn’t know how bad. He’s been to jail thrice.”
“Did she say why?”
“Domestic violence, theft, creating disturbances, all kinds of nasty stuff.”
“Audrey told you that?”
“Charlie couldn’t stand the sight of him. He called the cops on that Don guy more than once. He even gave evidence against him.”
“I’m sure Anna wasn’t pleased with that?”
“You bet. Audrey said they had a big fight. Don threatened to get even but the cops took him away. Anna vowed she would avenge her son some day.”
“Do you believe her? I mean, Audrey? Maybe she was fibbing.”
“Oh no! A couple of old timers were having coffee at the next table. They were nodding along, saying they remembered.”
“So they were Charlie’s neighbors?”
“I don’t think so. This happened at the supermarket.”
So Anna had threatened Charlie in front of plenty of people. Chances were, she was just letting off steam. I didn’t have a mental image of Anna.
“Do you think this Anna Collins is capable of harming anyone?”
“No way!” Becky pressed. “She stares at h
er feet and mumbles. I don’t see her stabbing anyone, even in a fit of anger.”
“What about Don? Don’s out of jail, isn’t he?”
“Now him…he actually looks like a killer.”
“Wow! I have to tell Stan about this.”
“You do that, Meera.”
I remembered the twitching curtains. I talked to Becky about them.
“I’ll try to swing by later today,” she promised.
I promised to take plenty of pictures at the Grand Canyon. Then I told her about Leo.
“Leo’s getting out?” she sounded shocked. “Sylvie will be glad to know that. Talk to her.”
Sylvie came on the line and enquired about everyone. She got worked up when I told her Leo was getting out of jail.
“They should never have taken him in. But you know how our police are. And you aren’t here this time to keep them straight.”
I assured her I was trying to get to the bottom of things.
“Sylvie, do you think you can invite Leo over for a meal at the diner? Give him some chores?”
“Keep him busy, you mean?” Sylvie asked, catching on. “Don’t you worry, baby girl. I’ll take him over to our place. He’s got no business going back to that nasty house anyway.”
I thanked Sylvie profusely. Jon and Sylvie are simple folk but they are the kindest people I know. Sylvie would see that Leo was fed and had a roof over his head.
There was a loud rap on the door and I hung up, wishing Sylvie a nice day.
“You’re late, Meera!” Dad frowned, showing me his watch.
I followed him to the hotel’s café. It was 7:30 AM and it looked like everyone was already done with breakfast. They were on their second cup of coffee.
“What were you doing all this time?” Dad asked, refusing to let go.
“I overslept,” I muttered, slathering cream cheese on my bagel.
I slid a couple of fried eggs and a sausage patty on a bagel half and doused it in red hot sauce. I slapped the other half of the bagel on top, making my own egg and bagel sandwich. I took a huge bite and washed it down with lukewarm coffee.
“You know this is the first vacation we have taken in years.”
Dad was in a mood alright.
“It’s really important for our family. I don’t want you messing it up with any of your shenanigans.”
I bristled under this unexpected attack. It didn’t seem fair to me.