The Beginning Page 10

  “That’s what I said, yes ma’am,” Frankie said.

  She put her hand to her chest. “Oh, thank you Jesus,” she said. Then she yelled, “Jerome’s out.”

  The restaurant suddenly got noisy as the word spread and the excitement level grew.

  “But,” Frankie said to the girl, “he’s not out of it yet. The police still think he did it.”

  “He didn’t do it,” the girl said.

  “We know that. But the question is who did?” I said.

  “Maybe it was that no good husband of hers,” someone yelled.

  “Or one of the men she was cheatin’ on him with,” called someone else.

  “Oh, or maybe that friend of hers. You know that mean lady. Mrs. Schotter?”

  “Who is Mrs. Schotter?” I asked. Did I have another suspect?

  Our waitress looked at us. “Well, they say Mrs. Schotter and Mrs. Neuspech was sneaking men in to the park at night for a little fun. And I don’t mean fun like the park was intended.”

  “Does Mrs. Schotter have a first name?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. It be Cindy,” a tiny voice spoke up from the back.

  Frankie and I looked at each other. Could this be the Cindy we’ve been looking for? We both stood up to see who it was. The voice belonged to this little tiny African-American woman who looked like she was eighty if she was a day. She was sitting at a table in the back wearing a maid’s uniform. I grabbed my notebook and pen and walked back to her table.

  “May I join you?” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Please do sit down,” she smiled up at me.

  I sat across from her. The people around me watched. I didn’t know if they were curious or protective of her. Either way I wasn’t worried.

  “My name is Misty; I’m one of the new owners of the park. That gentleman over there is my son Frankie. Also one of the new owners.”

  “It be a pleasure to meet you. My name is Aretha.” She stuck out her hand and I took it. I tried to shake her hand lightly; I didn’t want to break her.

  “Like the singer?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Only I had the name first,” she said with some dignity.

  I just smiled at this. I liked Aretha.

  “Miss Aretha, we know Jerome didn’t kill Mrs. Neuspech,” I said.

  “No. ma’am, he surely didn’t. He’s a good boy I’ve known him since he was a wee baby,” Aretha said.

  “Yes, he is very good man. Can you tell me anything about this Cindy that might help the police look at her instead of Jerome?”

  “Well, ma’am. I can tell you that Mrs. Schotter and Mrs. Neuspech was good friends. They’d sneak men in to Mrs. Schotter’s home at night for some drinkin' and other sinnin'. That ain’t no way for a married lady to behave,“ she said shaking her head.

  “No, ma’am, it’s not.” I said.

  “One night Mr. Schotter he comes home early from one of his trips. He catches those two sinin' with those men. I tell you, there was some screamin’ that night. Woo, I had a mess to clean up the next mornin' they threw so much stuff at each other.” She was chuckling at the thought.

  “Wow, it sounds like they both have a bad temper. Do you mind if I write this down. It might help clear Jerome, and I don’t want to forget anything.”

  “You go right on ahead, honey. After that fight, that’s when Mrs. Schotter started to go out at night. She wouldn’t come back home until after three of four am in the mornin'. And she went out whether Mr. Schotter was home or not.”

  “Miss Aretha, do you live in Mrs. Schotter’s house?”

  “No, ma’am. I live in the small building they call a coach house. Mr. and Mrs. Schotter have apartments there for me, the cook, and the butler.”

  “Then how do you know she started going out at night and staying out so late?”

  “Because she would take the back road to the park and the lights from her car would shine in my window.”

  “Very smart. Miss Aretha, do you know if Mrs. Schotter was home the night Mrs. Neuspech was killed?”

  “Well, ma’am. No, I don’t. I know that I wasn’t woken up by no car lights that night. I know she was drinkin’ something fierce that night. I also know she was mad and kept yelling something about how dare she do this to me.”

  “Did she say who ‘she’ was?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am, but she did mention somethin' about how she thought the lady was dead and if she was hiding all this time she should have told her.” Aretha paused for a moment. “In fact, she did say somethin’ like, I could kill her or I want to kill her.”

  “Is there anything else you might remember that could help Jerome?”

  “No, ma’am. Not that I can think of.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Miss Aretha. I promise I will not mention your name when I tell Chief Campion about this.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, I would appreciate it. I don’t need to get mixed up with the law at my age.”

  I bid Aretha good day and headed back to my table. I would have given her a hug, but I didn’t want to break her. I smiled at Frankie. He smiled back.

  Frank just looked at me. “Misty, please leave this alone. I know Marlowe. He’s a good man. He has more experience with murder than you do. Than I do.”

  “Frank, I don’t want to go chasing after a murderer. I just don’t want your buddy Marlowe to railroad Jerome,” I said.

  “He won’t. He’s not railroading him.”

  “He already arrested him based on circumstantial evidence. Even the judge gave him a hard time today.”

  “Do me a favor, Misty, give the information to Marlowe and let it go. You don’t know that you’re getting yourself in to.”

  “Fine.”

  “Promise me.”

  I’m sorry, was he treating me like a child? My intention the entire time was to give the information to Marlowe. I wasn’t promising Frank anything, though because he was making me feel like a child. Frankie and Minerva just sat there and watched. I got the impression they were becoming buddies.

  “In fact,” Frank continued, “let’s go. We’re going to take the information to Marlowe now.”

  I looked at him and crossed my arms. I am stubborn. I didn’t want to give in to him. I had been giving in to Frank for the past thirty years. I was tired of giving in to Frank. But, I really did intend to give the information to Marlowe. Not that I thought he’d know what to do with it. If he was such a good cop he could have found this all out on his own.

  However, Frank is stubborn too and he just stared back at me. I got the feeling that he wasn’t going to give up. And since I knew he was probably just concerned for me and my safety, I surrendered. I got up and we walked to my car. I handed Frank the keys and I got in.

  Chapter 12: Just the Facts, Marlowe. Just the facts.

  Frank and I pulled up in front of the police/everything else station. Frank turned off the car and looked at me. I knew that look. He was getting ready to lecture me. Well, I was ready.

  “Be nice to the man,” Frank said. “He’s been through a lot. He’s a good man, he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Really, cause so far it doesn’t look like it.”

  “Misty, please.” He actually looked, well, as if he were pleading with me. He must actually like this Marlowe guy. Fine, I’ll try to cut the guy a break.

  “How long have you known Marlowe?” I asked him.

  “For years. I knew him when he was in Chicago on the gang task force. I knew him when his wife left him. I knew him when his career fell apart. We’ve talked over the years, we’ve trained together. He’s a good man he’s just been through a lot.”

  I was so sick of being told he was a good man. If Frank said that one more time, I may just have to punch him.

  “Fine.”

  “Misty!”

  “Ok, Frank, I’ll be nice.” Why was he giving me a hard time? I meant it. I’ll be nice to the little jerk.

  We got out and walked in to the building

  “Wo
w, this is not what I was expecting. Even my station is its own building. They must really be broke here,” Frank said.

  “That was our impression when Frankie and I came here yesterday. Maybe when the park gets going it’ll bring in tax dollars and that will help.”

  “I hope so, or this town could really be in trouble.”

  I directed Frank to the office and we entered. Frank walked up to the desk, I took a seat.

  “May I speak with Chief Campion, please?” Frank said to the officer behind the desk.

  “Yes, sir,” the officer replied. “What’s your name?”

  “Tell him that Frank Summer is here.”

  The officer picked up the phone and told Marlowe that we were there, should I say that Frank was there. He hung up and told us that it would be a few minutes. Frank sat next to me and we waited. I wondered if Marlowe was doing this on purpose. Or should I call him, Chief Campion? No, only if I had to. I always preferred first names to last. There were fewer barriers that way. Besides, I couldn’t actually envision him being in charge of anything.

  The phone rang and the officer answered it. He said a few words and then hung up and told us to go ahead in. I followed Frank. He seemed to know where he was going. Why? Had he been here before? He didn’t act like it earlier. I was a little suspicious.

  When we got to Marlowe’s office Frank knocked. When we were told to come in, Frank held the door for me and I walked in. Marlowe looked up from what he was reading and I’m pretty sure he glared at me. I think I even heard a little growl. Then he saw Frank. He got up and shook Frank’s hand. I plopped in to a chair and waited. I was feeling just a little ignored.

  “Misty has some information for you,” Frank finally said.

  Marlowe glared at me, “You’ve been interfering with my investigation?”

  “Oh, you’ve been investigating? I thought you were busy railroading Jerome.” I glared back, bring it on little man.

  Frank grabbed my hand. I knew that meant he wanted me to be nice.

  “Look, lady I can lock you up, ya know,” Marlowe countered.

  “Go ahead.” I just stared at him. Inside I dared him to lock me up. I knew he could if he really wanted to, but right now I didn’t care. Besides I also knew I’d be out in no time. Either the lawyer or Frank would see to that.

  “What do ya got?” Marlowe asked instead, leaning back in his chair.

  “I’ve been talking to people. I learned things.” I slid my notebook over to him. “Copy any information you want, but I get the notebook back.”

  “You learned things,” he said.

  As he flipped through the pages, his eyes got bigger and the look on his face softened. He looked up at me, “How’d you find all this out?”

  “I’m nice,” I said, “people talk to me. And I listen.”

  “Obviously.” He said that as if it were an insult.

  “Let me guess they don’t talk to you,” I said.

  “Misty,” Frank warned.

  “Not really,” Marlowe said, taking me by surprise.

  “I’m not surprised. You’re too rough. People want to think you care about them,” I said.

  “I do care. I like this town,” Marlowe countered.

  “Then be nicer to people. Stop barking at them.”

  He just rolled his eyes at me. “Be nice,” he mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear. Marlowe then pressed a buzzer and the officer at the front desk opened the door. “Yes, sir.” The officer said.

  “Take this and make two copies of each page with writing on it. That’s two copies. And do not copy the blank pages.” He handed my notebook to the officer who then left to make copies.

  “That was rather mean,” I said.

  “Really,” Marlowe said, “because once he did copy twenty blank pages for me. Twenty.”

  “Yeah, but still. Maybe you made him nervous because you snapped at him.”

  “Misty, that’s how we talk to our officers,” Frank said.

  “No, that’s not how you talk to people who work for you. Not if you want them to work hard for you.”

  Frank and Marlowe both gave me that whatever look. I sat back in my chair and waited.

  While we were waiting for the copies to be made Frank and Marlowe discussed some game they had seen on TV the other night. I wondered about Marlowe while we were sitting here. Why was he so cranky? Was his hatred focused just on me, or did he hate all women? Or all people? Obviously he liked Frank. And Frank liked him. They got along well. Right now that was the only thing in Marlowe’s favor. Oh, and the fact that Frankie said he was willing to help the park out.

  The officer came back and handed the notebook and the copies to Marlowe. Marlowe took it from him and the officer left.

  “You didn’t even thank him,” I said.

  “I don’t need to thank him. He was doing his job,” Marlowe said.

  “You should still say thank you,” I said. It wasn’t a cop thing, Frank thanked his officers. I know he did, I’d heard him. Marlowe was just rude.

  “Here’s your notebook back, Mrs. Summer. Thank you for your help. Now stay out of it,” Marlowe said giving me a look that told me he meant it.

  I picked up my notebook and walked out of the room, saying nothing else to him. I didn’t want to risk saying something I might regret later. Might regret.

  When I got to the waiting area, I noticed that Frank wasn’t with me. He was still talking to Marlowe. In fact, they closed the door behind me. I felt kind of insulted. I sat in a chair and waited. What were they talking about? Was Marlowe making Frank promise to put a leash on me? Was Frank complying? I didn’t know, but I didn’t like it.

  Finally I heard the door open and Frank came walking out. I stood up and we walked out to the car together.

  “You were in there long enough,” I said to Frank.

  “Well, I had something personal to discuss with Marlowe. By the way, he should be much nicer to you now.”

  “Oh God. Why, Frank? What did you say to him?”

  We got in the car and Frank looked at me. He gave a deep sigh and he said, “I was pretty mad at you when we broke up.”

  “But, I thought . . .”

  “I know. The night we discussed things I was ok with it and was in full agreement with you. The marriage was over. It all made sense.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I got angry.”

  “At me?” This was news. I never even felt that he was upset with me. He never yelled or anything. He never told me he was upset.

  “At us. Where did we go wrong? Did we really try to save the marriage? Was it all my fault for working such long hours? For making you give up your career all those year ago? I felt guilty, I felt like I had caused our break up.”

  “Frank, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but it happened. It’s over.”

  “I know. It does no good to analyze it now. But Misty, we had been together since sophomore year of high school. I’d never loved anyone but you.”

  “Our relationship began in sixth grade,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah,” Frank said, “but we didn’t really get serious until high school.”

  This was also news to me, I knew in sixth grade that I wanted to marry him. You mean he didn’t know then? He agreed with me then.

  “Well, anyway. I was mad about the break up and I blamed you for a while,” Frank said.

  “Ok, so why didn’t you drop everything and take that vacation with me to try to save our marriage? Things might be totally different right now.”

  “Then again, they probably wouldn’t be. It was over. But, my point is, I was very mad at you for a while after it ended.”

  “Not for very long, it’s only been a few months.”

  “No, but long enough to trash talk you to some of my on-line buddies like Marlowe.”

  “What!” Seriously, he told his buddies that it was my fault? Well, maybe it was, but I didn’t exactly cheat on him or anything. Besides how dare h
e.

  “Yeah, I made it sound like you were the wicked witch of PA.”

  “What did you say, Frank?”

  “Well, not much. I said that the divorce was your idea. That you had just decided to end it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s not all.”

  “There’s more?”

  “Yeah, I also said that you and your lawyer were raking me over the coals. I said that I was going to be broke by the time the divorce was over.”

  “Frank!”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “No wonder the man hates me. Frank, how dare you.”

  “How was I supposed to know that you’d meet him? I mean what were the odds?”

  “You knew I was going to Florida. You knew he was in Florida.”

  “Yeah and you were supposed to go to Orlando, not to a rinky dink town like this one. Look, I’m sorry. And I straightened it out with Marlowe. I told him the truth. I asked him to treat you with a little more respect.”

  “Thank you, but you’re not off the hook. Besides I get the impression he hates women in general.”

  “He does. But not without reason.”

  “Frank, really?”

  “Really. He went through a really hard time in Chicago. Got set up for failure. Still thinks it was an inside job. I think it was an inside job.”

  “Well, that sucks, but what does it have to do with his hating women?”

  “It’s a long story. Remember the Yolanda Davis murders in Chicago?”

  “The one where the two little girls were murdered?”

  “Yeah. He was called and warned by the murder. He warned the parents. Still one girl was killed.”

  “But two little girls were killed.”

  “Yes, the murder told him to quit his job or he’d kill again. Marlowe only pretended to quit. Somehow the murder knew. So he killed another little girl.”

  “And, if I remember correctly, this little girl was only in Chicago for a funeral. She didn’t live there.”

  “Yeah. This tore Marlowe up. He really did quit and tried to catch the killer on his own. He became obsessed. His wife left him; she’d been cheating on him with another man apparently for years anyway. Eventually he ran out of money and had to get a job somewhere. He wanted to get away from the big city. He wanted a low crime area where he would probably never have to deal with murder.”