Flashpoint (6 page)

T
he mansion was a Shingle-style home with a gambrel roof that lent it a Victorian look. It had always been referred to locally as ‘the mansion,' even though it really didn't qualify as one. The Logans had liked the fact that it was more than a century old, despite all the renovations it had required before they moved in. The lovingly-tended lawn stretched from the top of the hill on which the house sat all the way down to the rural gravel road below. The driveway was paved and widened in front of the house.

Mrs Weiderman answered the door. She was a tall, somewhat overweight woman with pure white hair worn short and one of those sweet faces that grandmothers order online right after they get the news about the forthcoming child. I had seen her raise hell with reporters, nasty drunks at parties and anyone who spoke ill of any of the Logans, James, unfortunately, included. After she opened the door she stood smiling at me. ‘One of my favorite people.'

‘Let me say the same. How are you, Mrs Weiderman?'

‘Well, I suppose I'd be even happier if I was thirty years younger, forty pounds lighter and fifty times smarter, but I guess I'm doing all right. Now get in here and let me get you some coffee. Are you hungry?'

The house was quiet, though somewhere I could hear a muffled TV. Once she'd brought me into the living room she sat me down and said, ‘I believe you take it black.'

‘Thank you. I could use some coffee.' I heard the anxiety in my voice and caught myself. ‘When it's as good as yours it doesn't matter what time it is, Mrs Weiderman.'

It was a large room of framed Monet prints, comfortable deep- red matching couches and chairs, a stone fireplace large enough to roast a buffalo in and a grand piano in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the forest. There was a dry bar tucked away; I had taken advantage of it quite a few times.

I got up from my chair, sat down again and once more got up. I was just sitting down again when Mrs Weiderman brought me my coffee and said, ‘Maddy wants to see you, too. I told you last time I think she has a little crush on you. They'll be down in a few minutes.'

I thanked her then stood up again. This time I went all the way over to the grand piano and stared out at the woods. Whenever I got into trouble with my folks as a boy I imagined that I could run away and live in the forest. I never had a clear sense of what I'd do there, especially after nightfall, but eating leaves and tree bark sounded better than facing my parents' disappointment.

When I heard them I turned around and saw that they knew. They didn't know what, but they knew it would be bad. Maddy wore a tan crew-neck sweater, jeans and merrily striped socks; Elise was in a white blouse, black cardigan and jeans. Her feet were in black slippers.

‘I'm almost afraid to hear, Dev. I have to tell you that. You could have phoned – Maddy and I both know that this is going to be terrible.'

Maddy and Elise sat on a couch in front of the fireplace. I sat in the chair opposite them.

‘I called Dad's cell,' Maddy said. ‘A strange man answered and then let Dad talk. Dad said he was being taken to the police station and that he loved Mom and I very much. And that you were coming over to explain everything.'

So they did know some of the details in broad stroke. A police officer answering and a father telling a daughter that he was being taken to the police station was ominous.

The more difficult part for me would be telling Elise about Tracy Cabot.

‘I want to say right upfront that I believe he was set up by somebody to make it look as if he murdered someone. We all know Robert and we know that he would never kill anybody.' I tried to establish my professional and moral authority but I doubted they even heard me. They wanted the facts.

Elise was ahead of me. ‘Someone was actually murdered?'

‘Yes.'

‘My God, Dev. A murder. I can't believe it. Who was it?'

‘A woman.'

‘A woman?' A subtle shift in her expression and tone of voice. She was figuring out the elements of the equation here. A woman, the police and Robert.

‘Was this a woman Robert knew?'

‘Only slightly.'

‘I see.' And she did see. All too clearly. ‘Where did this happen?'

‘At the cabin.'

‘Our family's cabin?' She emphasized the word ‘family.' ‘Where Maddy and I always ride our bikes? Where Maddy had her birthday parties when she was a little girl?'

I nodded.

‘I have the feeling, Dev, that you're not telling me everything.'

‘I've told you everything I know, Elise.' I spoke softly because I could sense the agitation growing within her.

‘If I didn't know better, I'd think you were protecting Robert.'

‘I'm not, Elise. I don't believe he had anything to do with the murder, if that's what you mean.'

‘You know damned well what I mean.'

‘Mom, please—'

‘Be quiet, Maddy.' Elise did not take her eyes from mine. ‘Was my husband having an affair with this woman?'

‘No.' I wasn't about to go into the finer details.

‘Did you ask him that?'

‘Yes. That was the first thing I asked him.'

‘And he said he wasn't having an affair with her?'

‘Yes. And I believe him the same as I believe he didn't have anything to do with her death. I don't blame you for being angry and hurt, Elise, but our main concern is keeping him from being charged with murder.'

‘In other words, you're worried about the election.'

‘Yes. No point in lying, I'm worried about the election. That's my job in this. But we're friends, Elise. You and I and Maddy. I hope you understand how much I care about you.'

‘And we care about you, Dev, you know that,' Maddy said.

But Elise was having none of our Oprah hug. ‘Who was the woman?'

‘Her name was Tracy Cabot. Somebody hit her on the head with something heavy and killed her.'

‘She probably deserved it.'

‘Mother!'

Elise brought her slight hand to her face and touched fingers to her forehead. ‘Oh, God, forgive me for ever saying such a thing. I apologize to both of you.' Then, as if she'd already forgotten the tone of her apology, the anger was back in her voice. ‘Dev, I don't believe what Robert told you and this time everybody will know he cheated on me. It will be all over the news.'

Maddy angled herself so that she could see her mother straight on. ‘Mom, there's no point in going through all this. There was a woman involved and she's dead and the police think Dad did it.'

‘He was the one who found the body. Before the police got there I called Ben Zuckerman. He's probably on a plane coming up here right now.'

‘I have a right to know if my husband was sleeping with another woman.'

‘He wasn't.'

I was back to Bill Clinton word parsing. He would have if he'd been able to get it up but since he couldn't he didn't.

‘He told you that?' It didn't matter that we'd gone through this a minute or two before. She wanted to convince herself that he hadn't so she could find some relief from the turbulent emotions that were suffocating her; but her history with men in general and her father and husband suggested otherwise.

Maddy flung herself back against the couch and folded her arms across her chest. Her mother's persistence was obviously starting to grate on her.

‘Elise, listen to me. That's exactly what he told me.'

‘He said to you, “I didn't sleep with her.”'

‘Yes, he did. They weren't, of course. But things were bad enough already.'

‘But he was going to meet her at the cabin.'

‘He was going to set her straight. That's why they were meeting there.'

‘And now the police think he murdered her.' Was there the faintest note of satisfaction in her voice?

This time when she leaned forward she put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. Maddy took her in her arms but Elise stayed hidden. She probably wanted to crunch herself into the smallest configuration possible. And maybe just disappear.

I remembered the dry bar in the far corner straight behind the grand piano. I walked over there and filled a small glass with bourbon and water. When I got back Elise was sitting up again, but from the gaze I wondered if she was in shock. The dullness of her eyes suggested it.

She took the glass with both hands. Like a child. She began drinking right away.

Maddy thanked me
sotto voce
.

‘That's all I need. To become an alcoholic.'

‘Oh, yes, Mom. You drink so much. What're you up to now – two drinks a month or something like that?'

‘Honey, you know how many alcoholics are in my family.'

‘Yes, but you're not one of them.'

Elise had drunk most of the small glass. She set it carefully on the coffee table and then sat back and closed her eyes.

‘Are you tired, Mom?'

‘Uh-huh. Very.' Eyes still closed. Willing the world away and I didn't blame her.

‘How about if I take you upstairs and tuck you in for a while?'

‘It's funny, Dev.' Her eyes suddenly opened and she was staring at me. ‘I knew there'd be a woman. My father was like that. He'd make promises to my poor mother but he'd always go back to whoring around. And then one day he announced he'd fallen in love with some girl at his office. I'd actually met her several times before that and liked her. Very pretty and smart. I felt so guilty that I'd had those thoughts when my father told my mother about her. As if I'd betrayed my mother somehow.'

‘I'm sorry, Elise.'

She stood up abruptly. But she was uncertain, almost falling over, which she would have done if Maddy hadn't bolted up and grabbed her around the waist.

‘Just lean on me, Mom. We'll take it easy and get you tucked in.'

Mother and child, roles reversed.

As if I'd already gone, and as Maddy began slowly walking her out of the room, Elise said, ‘Tell Dev I'm sorry if I was a bitch.'

‘You weren't a bitch, Mom. And Dev is our friend. He wouldn't think anything like that.' She accompanied this with a glance over her shoulder. Another
sotto voce
thank you.

Suddenly Mrs Weiderman came into the room and Elise broke from Maddy and rushed to the much larger woman, embracing her and putting her head to Mrs Weiderman's chest. Elise began sobbing and the woman started stroking her small, fine head the way she would a child's. Maddy stood in place watching them, a fond smile in her eyes and on her mouth. After two or three minutes Mrs Weiderman gently eased herself back from Elise and nodded to Maddy. Then Maddy took charge of her mother again.

I watched them leave. I felt bolted to my chair. I was getting like Elise. I didn't want to stand up and meet the world again. The world I knew was always a harsh and deceitful one, but this new situation was a treachery I'd never faced before. My footing was anything but sure.

Mrs Weiderman came into the room and said, ‘I heard some of it, Dev, but I didn't hear all of it. The police think that the senator killed a woman?'

‘Well, since she was found in his so-called cabin, they're certainly interested in talking to him.'

She sat down with prim dignity on the edge of the couch, facing me. She lowered her voice respectfully. ‘Was he seeing her, Dev?'

‘I'm afraid so. But he told me that they had never slept together.'

‘Oh, Lord. Poor Elise. Her father and then her husband – and now her husband again. I feel so sorry for her.'

‘I don't think he had anything to do with her death – that's what I have to focus on now. I like Elise very much but I can't worry about his marriage. Within a few hours the press will be out here en masse and the way they'll cover it will help to hand the other side the election.'

‘Lord, I hadn't even thought about the election.'

‘Let me ask you something, Mrs Weiderman: how many people had keys to the cabin?'

‘Everybody. The whole family. I have one. And old Mr Stokes, the handyman we use for lighter work.'

‘Does James have one?'

‘James …' Then, ‘My Lord, you're not thinking—?'

‘No, I just want to be sure I know of everyone who has a key.'

‘Oh.' But I could see she still didn't believe me. ‘Yes, James has one, too. He takes some of his women there. As Elise says, “That's all right with us because it means he isn't here bothering us.” I probably shouldn't say this but right now I'm more worried about Elise than I am about the senator. Thank God Maddy's strong. I think they would have divorced if it hadn't been for her. She would sit with her mother for hours and listen to the same thing over and over and never complain. And she would question her father from time to time to make sure he wasn't seeing that woman anymore. He resented it but he understood so he never got angry with her. And now—'

I suppose I heard the gunshot first but in my memory it and the scream are simultaneous. There was that second or two delay – it was the same with Mrs Weiderman – when we sat letting our ears inform our brains of the real meaning of the sounds … and then we were lurching from our sitting positions and racing to the sound of more screams from upstairs.

I recall staring up the flight of stairs in front of me; it might have been a mountain. I went up them two at a time with Mrs Weiderman, gasping, close behind me.

B
ecause I'd slept in the guest room a number of times, I knew where I was going. I took the steps of the winding staircase two at a time and when I reached the landing on the second floor I saw Maddy already pounding on the door of the master bedroom. She'd just started shouting to be let in. ‘Mom! Please let me in!'

As I ran toward her, her voice got even more urgent and her fist against the door louder. When I finally got a glimpse of her face, the shock and dismay she'd kept hidden downstairs – I'd admired how coolly she'd handled the news about her father; perhaps because she understood she'd needed to hold it together so she could help her mother – were clear on her pretty features now. She was frantic, fearing that her mother might be dead.