by J. D. Griffo
“You had to bring up the M word, didn’t you?” Denise whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Beverly said, “with all that’s going on I kinda forgot.”
It took a while for the rage to leave Marion’s body and for his mumbling to stop. When he finally spoke loud enough to be heard and understood, his voice was so calm it was as if the tantrum never happened. The only evidence of the violent outburst that remained was the broken, bloody skin on his knuckles.
“And I told you how I felt, Beverly, many, many times, but you couldn’t comprehend that very basic concept. So, what did you do to deserve my love? To secure my hand in marriage? You stole Lucy’s TV Guide collection, planted incriminating evidence in it, and hid it someplace where you said I would never, ever find it. And then you told me I had a choice: marry you, or force you to turn over the collection and the evidence to the police.”
“I would never have gone through with it, you know that.”
The anger returned and once again Marion’s voice reverberated throughout the small room. “The only thing I knew, Beverly, was that you had threatened me! And Mother always told me that once a woman threatens you she can never be trusted!”
Clearly Helga Klausner had a strong hold on her son, because when Marion mentioned his mother, Alberta could tell that he was being pulled back to the past, to a preferable, more comfortable time. She needed to stop him from making that journey and focus on the present. “What did you do next, Marion?” she asked, quietly, but sternly. Mechanically, he turned his head in Alberta’s direction. He heard her, but she wasn’t sure that he was firmly back from stepping onto memory lane, so Alberta needed to pull a little harder. “What did you do after Beverly blackmailed you?”
It took him a few more seconds to respond, but Alberta’s goading did the trick. “After Beverly called in sick for a few days, I went to her condominium for one final attempt to reason with her. I was resigned to give her whatever she wanted. Enough money to relocate, buy herself a bigger and better house somewhere far, far away, and live out the rest of her life without a financial care in the world.”
“But the only thing I wanted was to marry you, Marion!” Beverly exclaimed. “That’s what you could never understand.”
“Which is just like a woman! You always want the one thing you cannot have!”
Alberta could see Marion regressing again and she needed to reel him back. “What happened when you got to the condo, Marion? What did you say to Beverly?”
“Nothing, because she wasn’t there,” he replied. “But Lucy was.”
“Lucy?” Alberta asked. “What was she doing there?”
“For the same reason I ventured into enemy territory, to confront the shrew,” Marion explained. “Lucy had only told one other person about her collection, and that was Beverly. When it went missing there could only be one culprit.”
So Enza was right, Alberta thought, Lucy couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it, and she did tell someone else about the collection. If she had kept quiet, she might still be alive.
“I was convinced that Lucy must know about the evidence, because Beverly is what is known as a blabbermouth. The woman gossips about everything, but in this instance I was wrong and she hadn’t told Lucy about my peccadillo,” Marion continued. “For all of Beverly’s faults, and it must be acknowledged that she has many, many faults, she truly can keep a secret when she wants to, I must give her that.”
“Oh please!” Denise cried. “Beverly’s mouth was as big as Lucy’s! You know that the moment she found out about Lucy’s collection and how it would make the perfect repository for her revenge against you, she just had to spill her guts . . . to me!” Denise explained. “And me being the trustworthy and empathetic HR executive, I had no choice but to listen to every word she said.”
“Watch your temper, Denise,” Marion chastised. “Didn’t Mother always say that no matter what the circumstances a lady must always control her temper? And it didn’t matter that Beverly told you because you already knew about my side business.”
“I only told Denise because I knew how she felt about you, and I figured the two of you were having an affair, so I thought if I told her about you and the drugs she would break up with you,” Beverly conceded.
It was Marion’s turn to lose his temper.
“Just like a woman!” Marion spat. “Always thinking about yourself, never thinking that if Denise spoke to the police what that would’ve done to me.”
“But Denise would never speak to the police, because her ex-husband was in on the scam too!” Alberta shrieked.
Finally, Alberta connected the mayor’s criminal relative—Johnny Kaplan—with Denise Herb-Kaplan. Joyce had uncovered information from Marion’s e-mails about Johnny Kaplan, who was indicted for drug smuggling. Alberta knew the name rang a bell, but didn’t make the connection until now.
“Good for you, Alberta,” Marion beamed. “Tranquility really is more closely knit than the sweater-vests Mother used to crochet for me.”
“But Marion, that still doesn’t explain how you went from accidentally bumping into Lucy at Beverly’s condo to killing her?” Alberta reasoned.
Once again Marion turned into the lonely, misunderstood teenager from Alberta’s youth, all furrowed brow and wide eyes in search of lost innocence. “You have to believe me, Alberta, I didn’t want to do it. But I kept asking Lucy about the evidence and the drugs and the location of the collection, and she kept repeating over and over again that she didn’t know anything. And do you know how infuriating it is when a woman doesn’t answer you and just says ‘I don’t know’ over and over again? It’s like a record that skips repeatedly for hours. Just scratching and repeating incessantly! The next thing I knew I was slapping Lucy and hitting her and before I knew it she fell to the floor. She must have hit her head on the coffee table because she wouldn’t get up, she just lay there, dead. I didn’t mean to do it, but I killed her.”
Watching Denise roll her eyes, Alberta realized that she wasn’t such a stunod after all.
“Marion, you didn’t kill Lucy,” Alberta announced.
“I appreciate your trying to assuage my guilt, Alberta,” Marion replied. “But if I didn’t kill Lucy, then who did?”
“Denise.”
The three other people in the room cried out at the same time. “What?”
“It’s true, isn’t it, Denise?” Alberta asked.
Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, which was difficult sitting cross-legged while wearing a wet suit, Denise replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t care about the drugs or about Marion’s affair with Beverly, those things you could live with,” Alberta began. “But you couldn’t live with being the other woman if Marion gave in to Beverly’s demands and married her. So, you followed Marion to Beverly’s condo and when he left you barged in thinking you were going to have it out with your nemesis and the future Mrs. Marion Klausner once and for all, but instead you found Lucy lying on the floor.”
“Denise . . . is that true?” Marion asked, his question filled with stunned disbelief. “Answer me!”
Rising suddenly from her chair, Denise walked a few steps to the left, then to the right like a caged lion. “How stupid can you be?” she shouted. “If you had been a man and waited a few seconds longer instead of running out of that condo like a frightened little boy you would have known all along that you didn’t kill her!”
“Oh dear God, it’s true,” Marion said, his voice sounding very much like a frightened little boy’s.
“Alberta’s right, I knew there was still something going on between you and Beverly and I knew that you would crawl to her on your belly, cave in to her demands, marry her just to get the evidence back, and make sure she couldn’t destroy your future,” Denise seethed. “And there was no way in hell that I was going to play second fiddle to that old, overweight, bleached-blond . . . how do your people say tramp, Alberta?”
Sh
yly, Alberta replied, “Putan.”
“To some putan!”
“Watch it, Denise!” Beverly shrieked. “I am a natural blonde!”
“So, I followed you to her condo,” Denise explained. “When you ran out, I went in and saw Lucy on the floor, but she wasn’t dead, Marion, she was just unconscious.”
The revelation was so shocking to Marion that he had to sit down. “I cannot believe this.”
“Well, believe it!” Denise shouted. Crouching down next to Marion, she grabbed his hands. Marion still looked terrified, but he didn’t have the strength to pull away from Denise’s grip. “And believe me when I tell you that I did what I did because I love you, Marion! Do you remember what I always told you? Unlike your mother and unlike Beverly and Alberta and all the other women in your life, I would never put any demands on you. I accepted you the way you are, but even that wasn’t enough for you.”
“Denise, what exactly did you do?” Alberta asked.
Releasing her hold on Marion, Denise stood up and this time paced the full length of the cabin. “When Lucy came to, she immediately started screaming that she was going to press charges against Marion for attacking her and against Beverly for stealing her collection, and I could not let that happen,” Denise said. “If the police came after Beverly she would spill her guts and tell them where the collection was and exactly what was in it. Lucy held all the cards and there was no way I was going to let that selfish bitch destroy the life of the man I loved and, along with it, my only chance of happiness.”
“You killed her?” Alberta asked.
“I grabbed the nearest thing I could, which happened to be the letter opener on Beverly’s desk, and stabbed her right through her heart,” Denise proudly recalled. “It was almost too quick, you know what I mean? I was prepared to get down and dirty to kill her, but all it took was one perfectly aimed thrust.”
Marion looked at Denise in shock, his mouth open, his head slowly shaking from side to side. “And all this time . . . I can’t believe you let me think that I was the one who killed her.”
Abruptly, Denise stopped her pacing. “How else do you think I was going to keep you in my life?”
“You’re insane!” Marion cried.
Denise’s laughter was so loud it was like a banshee’s shriek. “Said the overgrown mama’s boy!”
Alberta ignored their outburst as she still had more investigating to do. She knew most of the story, but not all of it, and there was one element to Lucy’s murder that she never quite understood. “But why did you change Lucy’s clothes? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Because the bitch started to bleed . . . a lot,” Denise explained. “If the cops found her covered in blood, they’d be able to figure out how she was killed, so I needed to buy some time. I started to clean her up and undress her, but I knew I couldn’t leave here there naked or else they would see the puncture wound. The cops around here aren’t bright, but they’re not idiots, so I went into Beverly’s closet and grabbed the first thing I could find.”
“Which was her navy blue suit,” Alberta said, finishing Denise’s explanation.
“Not the most attractive ensemble ever designed, but it served its purpose.”
“But why didn’t you just leave her there and go?” Alberta asked. “Why take the risk of being seen leaving Beverly’s condo with a dead body in broad daylight?”
Denise smiled approvingly at Alberta just like she did during Alberta’s interview. “You’re pretty good at this detective thing, Alberta, I have to give you kudos for that,” Denise replied. “By that time it was dark and Beverly still hadn’t shown up, so I realized luck really was on my side and I could buy myself even more time. They were doing some construction outside, planting trees and putting in a little patio, so there was no one around in the front. I carried Lucy through the garage, backed my car into the driveway, dumped Lucy in my trunk, and then tossed her body into the lake without anyone seeing me. Pretty clever plan, don’t you think?”
“If my nosy neighbor, Ruthanne, hadn’t been away visiting her sister in Barnegat,” Beverly said. “She would’ve heard everything.”
“And if only you would’ve picked a different color suit to dress Lucy in, you might’ve gotten away with it,” Alberta said.
Denise looked at her with an expression that morphed slowly from satisfied to sinister. “What are you talking about? I did get away with it.”
“Not really, hon,” Alberta said. “At first, Vinny did think Lucy committed suicide or accidentally drowned in Memory Lake, and he wasn’t even going to have an autopsy performed until I pointed out that Lucy would never in a million years be caught dead wearing navy blue. She hated the color, and if you knew anything about Lucy, you would’ve known that. I told him that if Lucy was wearing that outfit somebody must have changed her clothes and there definitely was foul play involved. The autopsy confirmed my suspicion that Lucy died from a puncture wound to the heart, so the police are indeed looking for her murderer. And it’s only a matter of time before they find out that it’s you.”
“Now who’s the idiot?” Beverly asked, laughing heartily.
“You’re the one who convinced the cops to do an autopsy?” Denise shrieked. “If it wasn’t for you there wouldn’t be an investigation. No one would care that the old crone was dead and we wouldn’t have to worry about the truth coming out!”
“I never had to worry about the truth coming out, Denise, because I’m innocent,” Marion announced, “I never killed Lucy. I can’t believe that you let me believe that I did. This is how you treat someone you love?”
Once again Denise crouched down next to Marion and grabbed his hands, but this time she applied much more pressure. If Marion hadn’t winced and yanked his hands away, it would’ve been a very tender scene.
“I had to, Marion,” Denise pleaded. “It was the only way to get your full attention and to make you understand just how much I love you. I would do anything for you.”
“Even go to prison for me?” Marion asked.
Stunned, it was Denise’s turn to wince and turn away. “No one has to go to prison, Marion, thanks to me! I made it possible for the two of us to live free and rich for the rest of our lives.”
“Really?” Marion cried, standing up and walking as far away from Denise as possible, which in the small confines of the room meant he was only about thirty feet away. “And just how did you accomplish that magical feat?”
“By getting rid of Lucy for you, dumping the body away from the scene of the crime to avoid linking her to anyone you know, and retrieving the business card from that woman who wants to buy her stupid TV Guide collection!” Denise declared.
When she pulled Joyce’s business card from the small pocket in her wet suit Alberta realized that she was the one who retrieved it from the trash can and not Marion. The trumpet, of course! The cell phone Alberta heard ringing while Joyce was impersonating a brash and sassy businesswoman determined to make a deal was Denise’s. She knew she had heard the melody before and now she realized why.
“This antiques broker, this Joyce Perkins, is willing to pay over a hundred grand for it,” Denise explained. “All we have to do is get the collection from the bottom of the lake, sell it to her, and you’ll be able to pay off what you owe the drug dealers. Then you and I can finally begin our life together.”
“You think it’s that simple?” Marion asked. “We’re not the only ones involved.”
Calmly, Denise replied, “So I’ll shut them up permanently.”
“Marion, say something!” Beverly screamed. “Tell the crazy HR lady that you aren’t going to let her kill us! You didn’t kill Lucy, she did, so you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Except keep you tied up as his prisoner for a week,” Denise reminded her.
“I’ll tell the police I was here of my own volition, taking a bit of a vacation to deal with the emotional stress of Lucy’s death,” Beverly bartered. “You said so yourself that I can keep a secre
t if I really want to.”
Marion remained silent, but his faraway gaze was evidence that he was weighing his options, and it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes or Miss Marple to be able to read his mind. Alberta Scaglione had a good idea of what he was thinking, too. If he revealed that he had a physical altercation with Lucy, but that it was Denise who had killed her, he might be the subject of small-town gossip for a time, but soon it would be forgotten. However, could he really trust Beverly to keep her end of the bargain and lie under oath that he hadn’t kidnapped her? That he kept her as his prisoner to make her tell him where the collection was? A collection that contained proof that he was involved in drug smuggling, which would guarantee his arrest and put him behind bars possibly for the rest of his life. That was a big gamble. And even if Beverly played by the rules of their elaborate game, there was still one wild card.
“What about Alberta?” Marion asked. “Even if Beverly remains quiet and I agree to continue my . . . dalliance with you, Denise, there’s still Alberta.”
“There’s an easy solution for that, Marion,” Denise replied. “Let me take care of her like I took care of Lucy.”
Despite it being the answer Alberta was expecting, it was still a shock to hear it spoken. Could this woman who up until this morning Alberta thought was a bit unprofessional, but sane and definitely moral, be willing to kill her in cold blood just so she could have the man of her dreams? Could she be that obsessed with him? Or did she cross over to the point of no return when she killed Lucy? Could one spontaneous, mindless act make it possible for her to commit another deliberate and calculated offense? Alberta didn’t have any of the answers, but erring on the side of caution, she didn’t want to find out.
“Marion, don’t listen to her!” Alberta screamed. “Don’t listen to either of them. You haven’t done anything wrong. Okay, maybe kidnapping Beverly wasn’t the smartest or the most legal thing you’ve ever done, but it won’t put you on trial for murder. Plus, I’m friends with Vinny! Let us go and I’ll help you explain everything. With a good lawyer, you probably won’t get more than a slap on the wrist.”