Murder At The Mikvah (39 page)

 Fifty-five

By the following morning, news of Hannah's awakening had spread like wildfire throughout the community, and the phone was ringing off the hook. Flowers, balloons and cards filled the Orenstein home. It was as if the entire
kehilla
had held its breath for the past six weeks, and were now exhaling a big communal sigh of relief.

Lauren was folding clothes in the guest room when Eli wandered in. “Do you think Mommy will like my card, Lauren?” he asked, holding out a folded piece of red construction paper. In a few hours, Lauren knew, the kids would be heading over to the hospital to see their mother for the first time in almost two months.

“Lauren?”

“What? Oh, yes, Eli, I'm sure she'll love it.”

“But you didn’t even look at it!”

Lauren forced a smile. “I didn’t have to. I saw you working on it downstairs, remember?”

He shrugged. “What are you doing?” he asked, noticing her suitcase splayed open on the floor.

Yehuda hadn't come home yet—ever since Hannah's awakening, he had remained at the hospital keeping vigil by her bed—so Lauren had not had an opportunity to speak to him. In a way, she was relieved to have the extra time to prepare herself, but the more time she spent ruminating, the closer she got to chickening out altogether. “Oh, well, since your mommy's almost better, I'll be going home soon,” she told him.

Eli looked concerned. “But aren't you coming with us to the hospital?”

She tossed some t-shirts into the suitcase. “No, I'll see your mommy another time, okay?”

“What about Rosie?” he asked. “Can she stay?”

“No, Eli. I’m afraid Rosie has to come home with me.”

“But she'll be back, right?”

Lauren didn’t want to lie. “We'll have to see, okay?”

He nodded.

She looked at her watch. “Now, you better go change. Your Abba will be home soon and he'll want to leave right away.”

Eli scurried out of the room and bumped into Judith who must have been standing right outside the door. It figured she was listening in. Lauren pretended not to notice her.

Judith coughed.

“Hello Mrs. Orenstein,” Lauren said without looking up.

Judith stood in the doorway. “I see you're packing,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Probably a good idea—now that the children's
mother
will be home soon.”

“Is there something you wanted?” Lauren asked. She was in no mood to play games.

“Yes, as a matter-of-fact there is. Someone's here to see you.”

“To see
me
?” Lauren asked doubtfully. “Who?”

“Sonia Lyman.”

“Sonia!” Lauren perked up. “Well… tell her to come up!”

“I think you better come down,” Judith said, her voice suddenly softened. “She has something to show you.”

Lauren didn’t move, almost expecting this to be some sort of trick. “Uh, sure. Okay. I'll come down.”

“Lawen! Lawen! Come see! Come see!” Yitzi met Lauren at the bottom of the stairs and was now yanking her arm toward the living room.

Lauren's jaw dropped. There, on the couch, sat Sonia with an infant swaddled in her arms. But that wasn’t why Lauren was suddenly speechless. It was the fact that not since that first Shabbat dinner nearly a year ago had Sonia looked so beautiful. Even in a simple pair of jeans and turtleneck sweater, the woman was
radiant
.

“Sonia?” Lauren began, hesitantly.

Sonia extended her arm, beckoning Lauren closer. She squeezed Lauren's hand, her eyes bluer than ever. “Gary and I… we are parents now!” A tear dripped down her cheek. She giggled and wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Lauren stared in disbelief at the baby girl. A tiny pink ribbon was clipped onto a single brown hair. The infant was sound asleep, inhaling and exhaling softly through her tiny mouth.

What the hell was going on?

Lauren dropped to the floor, kneeling at Sonia’s knees.
“A
baby
? …but I… aren't you… I mean…”

Sonia smiled. “Her name is
Naomi
. Named from my grandmother.” She looked warmly at Lauren. “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you before. I know you worried for me.”

“But…but what about Gary?” Lauren noticed the stunned faces of the boys and Rachel, and realized she had just
screamed
the question. “Sonia,” she said, pulling herself together and rising to her feet, “can I speak to you privately?”

An hour later Lauren was still in shock. It was hard to accept that somehow she had gotten it all wrong. Everything she had ever assumed about Sonia and her husband was flat out
incorrect
!

As Sonia explained, she and Gary had been receiving treatment for infertility since their third month of marriage. The problem was with Gary, Sonia explained. To put it in medical terms: his sperm refused to fertilize her eggs.

“Gary felt not like a man,” Sonia explained. “He keep saying to me, I should leave him and find better husband.” She made a fist against her chest. “But I have better husband already! I love Gary!”

At this point, Lauren interjected a question that she had been contemplating for quite some time. “But Sonia, how can you love someone you barely know?”

“Barely know?” Sonia’s crinkled forehead suggested she didn’t understand what Lauren was asking.

Lauren struggled with the best way to say
mail order bride
. “I thought you didn’t have a lot of time between courtship and marriage, that's all.”

“We date for three years! That's not enough time?”

Lauren was stunned. “Three years?”

“Yes. Gary was on work project in Kiev. He stay at my hotel. We meet there.”

But Janine said you were a mail order bride.
Lauren shook her head. Apparently Janine didn’t have her facts straight either. This changed everything. “I'm so sorry,” Lauren said, “I must have misunderstood.”

It took a few minutes for Lauren to get her bearings. “Sonia…” she said, suddenly remembering her concern for Sonia's physical safety, “Does Gary hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” Sonia shook her head fervently. “No, of course not! He yell many times, but I know why. Because of what I say to you… he felt not like a man!”

“But your arm… you had it in a sling!” Lauren demanded.

“Yes, I slip getting out of the tub,” Sonia said calmly, but Lauren was still not convinced.

“Then what were you doing at Tova Katz’s house?” she prodded. “I saw you on her front porch!”

Sonia shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Tova runs the S.O.S. hotline for abused women!” Lauren said pointedly.

“Yes, and Gary is S.O.S.
accountant
,” Sonia replied. “I drop off tax papers.”

“But… but I saw you other times!” Lauren sputtered, “and…and you looked like…”

Sonia lifted her eyebrows. “I look like
how
?”

“Injured.”

“I
was
injured!” Sonia said. “Six times I have hospital procedure to get pregnant!” She shook her head remembering. “There was much pain and how do you call it? Cramps! Terrible! Then I decided, enough! I tell Gary, no more! It's not fair all this suffering of both of us! We will adopt!”

There it was in a nutshell. How could Lauren have been so blind? But there was one more thing. “How in the world did you and Gary manage to get a baby so
quickly
?” she asked Sonia.

Sonia smiled. “It wasn’t so quickly. When I have fertility procedures, we also trying to adopt the whole time…
How
our baby comes, was never important for us.”

 Fifty-six

A large Rottweiler wedged his nose past the man's legs, trying to get a good sniff of whoever was outside the front door.

“Mr. Katz?”

“Yes?”

“I'm Detective Ron Smith and this is Detective John Collins. We were hoping to have a word with your wife.”

It was good to get out of the office, even if it
was
on official business. After fifteen non-stop hours of working the Peter Stem case, John and Ron were happy with any kind of break, including the breakfast they had just eaten—courtesy of Arden Station taxpayers—at the local diner.

Saul called out to his wife and she bustled toward the door wearing a loose fitting knit dress and white sneakers. She smiled brightly, but when she saw who it was, the smile fell away. She turned to her husband. “This is about the mikvah?”

Saul nodded solemnly and moved to the side to allow the detectives entry.

“Thank you,” John said. “This should only take a few minutes.” But Ron hesitated, glancing downward. “Is the dog okay?”

“You mean
Reuben
?” Saul said, and chuckled. “Oh sure! No worries, unless you're a bad guy that is. He can sniff
those
out in a second.”

John laughed out loud. “Does Reuben need a job?” he asked, giving the dog a pat.

“I don't know if you've heard, but Peter Stem was released this morning,” Ron began, after they had all settled on floral patterned couches in the modest living room.

Tova's hand flew over her mouth. “Oh dear God… no!”

Saul patted his wife's hand. “They're sure?”

John nodded. “We were holding the wrong guy.”

Saul had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway. “Do you now have the
right
guy?”

“No, I'm afraid not. That's why we're here—to go over some facts with your wife.”

Saul looked at Tova, concerned. Just that morning she had been so happy… they had both been… exhilarated by the news that Hannah was out of the coma, that it looked like she was going to pull through. Saul had been married long enough to know what his wife was thinking now:
the women of Arden Station are in danger
.
A killer is still on the loose
… “Are you going to be all right?” Saul whispered in her ear.

She dabbed each eye with a tissue, took a deep breath, and nodded. “They need to catch him… I want to do whatever I can to help.”

“On the night of Monday, October 24th,” Ron began, “did you happen to notice any men in the mikvah parking lot? ”

“Men generally don't drive their wives,” Tova replied. “The night a woman immerses in the mikvah is an extremely private event. It would be embarrassing to be seen by another woman's husband.”

“So I take it you didn’t see anyone lingering?”

Tova furrowed her brow. “
Lingering
?”

“Yes,” John said. “Peter Stem saw a man loitering in the parking lot around 8:30 PM.”

Tova took a deep breath upon hearing the man's name spoken again. It would take some time for her to come to grips with the idea that Peter Stem was not guilty—had
not
committed a hate crime against two women from her community.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have seen anyone. I was inside the whole time…”

“He saw the same man again after 10:00,” Ron interjected, as if this information might help.

“I went out to my car at 9:45, but I'm sorry, I didn’t notice anyone,” Tova said.

“I know who it was,” a tiny voice said suddenly.

“The detectives swung around. A thirty-something woman stood in the doorway. She wore a sweat suit that looked two sizes two big. Her blond hair was tucked in a loose bun. She wore no makeup and judging from the dark circles under her eyes, looked as though she hadn't slept in a week.

Tova stood up immediately and went to the woman. Taking her hand, she led her back to the couch.

“Cindy, these detectives are investigating the mikvah crime.” Tova spoke gently, as if trying not to upset her.

“Yes, I know,” the woman said, taking a seat next to Tova. “I was there, at the mikvah, that night…”

Tova's eyes widened in surprise. So many women used the mikvah—many from outside the community—that Tova didn’t know them all by
name,
but she prided herself on at least
recognizing
them. Yet, last week, when Cindy knocked on her front door, she would have sworn it was the first time they had met face to face.

Cynthia looked over at Tova, as if reading her mind. “It would have only been my
third
visit to the mikvah. The last two, Estelle was the attendant. And that night… October 24th, I never actually made it inside.

“Your name is Cindy?” Ron didn’t feel bad about interrupting. He wanted to move the conversation along. After all, the woman had just claimed to know who the man in the parking lot was.

“Yes. That’s right. My name is Cindy. Cindy Bergerman.”

“Bergerman? As in
Bergerman Bagels
?”

She nodded.

“I see. Well, Ms. Bergerman, do you recall what time you arrived at the mikvah the night of October 24th?”

“It was a little before 8:30.”

“Do you drive a Lexus, by chance?” John interjected. It was a sudden hunch.

“I
did
.”

Bingo.

“And you saw a man in the parking lot?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “The man in the lot was my husband.”

Tova's hand flew to her chest.

“What was he doing there?” Ron continued.

“Threatening me,” Cynthia said. “I wasn’t supposed to leave the house that night.”

“Any particular reason?”

“No…just control. Head games. He's good at those.”

“Cindy is currently separated from her husband, Brad Bergerman,” Tova told the detectives. “She has a restraining order against him.”

John nodded and looked at Cindy. She was around the same age as his daughters, but appeared to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Has he given you any trouble since?”

Cynthia shook her head and smiled over at Reuben, all one hundred and twenty pounds of him splayed out in the corner. “No. I'm completely safe here.”

John scribbled something on a card and handed it to her. “You call me directly if anything changes, okay?”

“Could you tell us what happened when he confronted you in the parking lot?” Ron asked.

Cynthia thought for a moment. “He just lost it because there was a scratch on the Lexus. He yanked my arm and told me to get in the car.”

“And did you?”

She wiped the corner of her eye. “What choice did I have?”

Tova held Cynthia's hand as she continued. “His car was parked a couple blocks up. He stopped to get out and told me to drive home or else.”

“Why didn’t he drive on to the mikvah lot to begin with?” John asked.

“He was worried about his precious car,” Cynthia said angrily. “His
Mercedes
. God forbid a branch should fall on it or something.”

“What time did all this take place?” Ron asked.

“Between 8:30 and 8:45,” Cynthia said.

“And what happened when you got home?” John asked gently.

Cynthia took a deep breath. “He slapped me around. Told me I was a worthless piece of shit, that I was lucky to have him. Then he raped me.”

“Did you go to the hospital?”

Cynthia looked over at Tova. The older woman was biting her lip, staring down at her hands in her lap. “No. I know I should have, but I didn’t.”

“Did Brad leave the house anytime after that?”

She shook her head. “No. He passed out in our bedroom. He didn’t go anywhere.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I didn’t sleep all night, that's how! I would have heard him!”

“Do you own an SUV?” Ron asked.

Cynthia nodded. “Brad owns six cars. One of them is a black Range Rover.”

“Is it possible Brad could have taken the Range Rover out without you realizing?”

“No.”

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” John said suddenly, gesturing Ron toward the front door.

It was understandable that Ron felt annoyed at the interruption. After all, John was interrupting his flow. “What's up?” he demanded after stepping outside. Across the street, a neighbor was standing on his porch, apparently curious about the police car parked out front.

“It's not the same guy,” John said in a low voice.

“What?”

“There were two different men Peter saw that night.”

“But Peter said…”

John shook his head. “I
know
what he said, but he was mistaken.”

“But how can you be sure?” Ron asked, skeptically. “Cindy Bergerman may have fallen asleep without realizing it… if she had, she wouldn’t have heard her husband leave.”

John placed his hands on his hips. “Tell me this: why would Brad Bergerman drive his Range Rover willingly onto the lot when he didn’t want to risk scratching his Mercedes?”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe he thought the Range Rover was more rugged?” But even as he spoke the words, Ron knew John had a point. Some guys were simply nuts when it came to their cars—
all
of them, no exception.

“Excuse me, Detectives,” Saul said, suddenly joining them on the front porch. “Is there a reason you're asking about that model car in particular?”

“The black SUV?”

Saul nodded.

“A man, in his mid to late forties was spotted driving a black SUV onto the mikvah parking lot sometime around 10:00 PM,” John said.

“Gary Lyman drives a black SUV.”

“Who?”

“Gary Lyman,” Saul repeated. He does the books for my wife's non-profit organization.”

“And you think Gary was the man in the SUV?” John asked.

“I don't just
think
he was
.
I know for a
fact
that Gary Lyman drove to the mikvah at 10:00.”