Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way (14 page)

Two widows were accepted, one a teacher, the other a nurse. They seemed kindly enough, but one
never knew. Ricco smiled at both, which Sally hoped wouldn’t hurt the case.

A skinny young man with spiked hair was required to stay, even after he said he was too busy to spend time sitting around. Judge Lovejoy seemed irked when the youngster couldn’t come up with an employer’s name. “I’m in a band.” The child started to pick his nose, but rubbed his eyes instead.

“Not for now,” Judge Lovejoy said. “And don’t think about not showing up. The law allows me to summon you legally, with penalties of jail time.”

“Yes, sir,” the chagrined lad replied.

Sally nudged Andrew and raised her eyebrows. She thought Jimmy should ask him to be removed, but Andrew shook his head no. Some sort of lawyer-politeness code demanded the judges’ decision not be debated in jury selection.

The remaining eight jurors, five men and three women, were seated after the time-consuming process, which included average citizens disclosing their names, addresses, work places and other private information in front of a bevy of strangers and the accused. Sally worried about all the times when convicted felons were in the courtroom for re-offenses with their beefy friends taking down all the pertinent information for future retaliation. What about them? But, Sally could not come up with a better way to select jurors.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Washtenaw County Court House, Ann Arbor

First Monday in November

Robert’s friends attended Ricco’s trial to show their solidarity with Mary Jo’s future. Harvey, Ed, and even Henry Schaefer made short appearances in the visitors’ section. A nearly cheerful Penny and Simon Goldberg stayed for the entire trial. After Mary Jo’s and Harriett’s testimonies of Ricco’s violence against them, Jimmy Walker presented Anna’s poisoning evidence from the exhumation autopsy to the jury. Ricco leaned close to his attorney to whisper instructions. The defense attorney asked if he could approach the bench.

The jury was dismissed and a plea bargain agreed to. Ricco would be imprisoned for life without parole. Sally was pleased because his children would never need to know their father was not killed defending his country in far off Iraq.

In the courthouse washroom, Sally found herself alone with Mary Jo. “Are we going to be invited to the wedding?”

“I think you’re going to beat me to the altar.” Mary Jo laughed. “I have to give up smoking.”

“There is one thing I thing I figured out, but I’m not sure?”

“What’s that?”

“How the police found your blood in Robert’s room?”

“Easy answer.” Mary Jo smiled. “I wasn’t prepared for my time of month. All the tension involved in running away from Ricco caused my period to start a week early.”

“Would we have been able to prove the difference between menstrual blood and blood from an injury?”

“See why you’re born to be a detective?”

Maybe she was. The Lord surely would help. Before leaving the courthouse, Sally congratulated Jimmy Walker and restated her good-byes to Robert’s friends.

John drove her home. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“One time, Danny and I traveled with a tour group to
China. Whenever we assembled in a bus to move to the next airport or boat, I counted each of the fifteen members. We all did. Then we would tell the guide who was missing, who we needed to wait for. Usually the same people delayed us. Then once we arrived home in Detroit, Danny and I jumped on a bus to take us to the parking lot. I started looking for the other travelers to China in the crowds pushing to get on the bus. I realized, with a shock, I would probably never see them again. I feel the same way now, as if I will never lay eyes on Robert’s friends again.”

“Since we plan to work with the Tedler brothers, I don’t think you need worry.”

“Do you think Sylvester and Mary Jo can make a go of marriage with four orphans?”

“I’m more interested in our future. When should we pick out your engagement ring? Should I reserve a quiet corner in the Earl’s restaurant, find an empty ring box, and make you promise to marry me?”

“I don’t like basement restaurants.” Sally considered his profile. Her second husband? Danny’s head of white hair faded in her memory. John’s shiny pate would suit her just fine. “Why not today?”

At the intersection of Stadium and Pauline Avenues, John stopped at the red light. “Shall I turn right here?”

“Yes.” Sally laughed. “Let’s do it.” John’s smile lasted all the way to the jewelry store. Even after she picked out an emerald surrounded with diamonds, he was still smiling. So she tested the waters. “Are you sure we should pursue this detective business. What if the Tedlers don’t attract any cases we’re interested in?”

“Then we will rest on our laurels and explore married life together. Did you agree to a honeymoon in
Rome?”

“We haven’t even agreed on a church, have we?”

“What’s wrong with St. Andrew’s? We’ll have a reason to invite all of Robert’s friends to a shindig.”

“Sold,” she said content with their future together in
Ann Arbor.

PART II

Chapter Twelve

Ann Arbor, Late November

Sally over-estimated the general public’s need for detective services. After Robert Koelz’s defense, no new clients appeared waiting in the wings. When no one called the Tedler Brothers’ office for more than spousal investigations, John suggested they should retire. Nevertheless after returning from a wonderful week’s honeymoon in
Florence, Sally asked young Sam Tedler to recommend courses to help them pass the tests for detective licenses.

She had deemed her marriage a success one Saturday morning when John wrapped his arms around her in bed and asked, “Who cares about the rain on such a sunny day.”

John spent the first weekend after the honeymoon in Illinois packing up his clothes and reclaiming his dog, Ginger. After his return to Ann Arbor, he busied himself with a renovation project for the Huron River Yacht Club.

Sally rejoined the City Club to pursue her watercolors until someone needed a private detective. She met Donna Leonard, one of many artists at the City Club. Donna was the real thing, not a hobbyist. Donna’s husband, David, was a typical scientist with his head continually in the clouds. His smile was genuine; but Sally was convinced if called upon to come up with her name, she might as well ask the Leonard dog to introduce her, if they owned one.

David’s boss in the Chemistry Department, Professor Paul St. Claire, was engaged to another City Club member, Zelda Cameron, who owned an art gallery in New York City. As Sally’s friendship with the Leonard’s grew, the idea of representing Donna’s art, as her agent was discussed. Donna needed to devote her time to painting as far as both Zelda and Sally were concerned. So Sally arranged for local groups of artists to include Donna’s work in shows, while Zelda tried to convince Donna to present her art in New York.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Third Thursday in November

Evening

Donna called Sally immediately, hoping she didn’t sound too frantic. “The police called. David was involved in a fatal accident at the university.” She couldn’t control her hysteria enough for Sally to ask more questions. “Please come.”

When John and Sally arrived, Donna opened the front door unable to stop talking. “Just this morning, I told myself it wasn’t as if I cared about David.” John guided her to the front room couch. “I found traces of his warmth as I straightened out our wedding-circle quilt.” Donna took Sally’s hand and drew her down next to her on the couch. “I told myself he could pack up his stuff and move out anytime he felt like it.”

Sally patted her hand. “You seem devoted to each other; as much as any artist and chemist can be, living in different worlds with dissimilar ways of communicating, logic versus stream of consciousness.”

Donna inhaled the steam from the hot cup of coffee John had provided, then whispered into the warm cup, “I thought he wouldn’t leave.”

Donna’s mother told her as a little girl everyone with gray eyes appears sad to the rest of the world, even to themselves; so Donna accepted her tendency to melancholy. Sally brushed Donna’s long hair away from her face and the wide green barrette came loose from its fastening. She normally wore her hair drawn back behind her ears. The unbecoming style was a practical way for an oil painter to keep her hair out trouble.

“Was David being purposefully hateful?” John asked Donna.

“He treated me as if I were a piece of furniture, a thing not required to share his life.” Donna gave a short angry sob. “Now, now, he’s gone?”

John sat on the couch opposite the one Donna and Sally shared. He spread out his hands palms up, indicating he possessed no answers. He was not a close friend to David but Donna knew he cared for her. Sally drew John’s attention to the dining room table which was set for the Leonard’s evening meal.

When a policewoman and Officer Sam Tedler knocked on Donna’s front door at
seven p.m., Sally opened the door. When she saw the police under their black umbrellas, she turned around to tell Donna without actually opening the storm door. “Mrs. Leonard, there was an accident,” the lady cop called. “May we come in?”

Donna nodded her head, but could not summon the strength to get up from the couch. Sally waved for the cops to come in. Sam opened the door. The policewoman folded her umbrella. She leaned the wet thing outside against the narrow side window before coming in. Sally followed them into the front room, where Sam and his cohort took seats on each side of Donna.

“We’re sorry to bring you sad news.” Sam coughed to keep his voice from cracking. “Your husband sustained fatal injuries.”

Donna kept her head lowered. “How?” She didn’t really want to know, but hoped Sally did.

“I’m Sergeant Cramer,” the lady-cop said. “Professor Leonard fell down a flight of stairs in the Chemistry building.”

“David always holds onto the railings.” Donna raised her head to look steadily at John, as if he would agree with her. She kept her eyes open wide; if she blinked, the tears threatened to spill down her face.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Sergeant Cramer asked.

Donna noticed Sally seemed surprised to hear her reply. “Our funerals are arranged.” Her voice sounded odd, detached even to herself. “Let me get my purse.” She swayed as if she were dizzy when she stood up. Nevertheless, she asked Sergeant Cramer, “Where is he?”

“We’ll take you, unless your friends want to.” Sergeant Cramer pointed to Sam, who was blocking Donna’s exit to the upstairs. “Officer Sam Tedler will drive you to the hospital.”

“No. Not necessary,” Donna said. “I have to call his sons. What room is my husband in?”

Sergeant Cramer said, matter-of-factly. “Ask for the morgue at the emergency room desk.”

Donna’s legs dissolved. She slumped to the floor. “His sons’ numbers are in the book by the phone.” She straightened her skirt over her awkwardly placed knees. “Joseph and Norman Leonard.”

John tried to assist her to her feet. “Let me help you to the couch.”

However, tall Sam Tedler simply picked Donna up as if she were a rag doll and deposited her back down on the front room couch. “Would you like a glass of water?” Sam asked, apologizing for his physical familiarity.

“Diet Coke, please.” Donna answered on automatic. “In the refrigerator.”

“Your brother?” Sally suggested. “Do you need to call your brother, too?”

“Will he get here before your son?” Sam sounded hopeful.

Donna was sorry to disappoint him. “No,
Norman’s my husband’s youngest son. My brother lives in Milwaukee, Appleton really. He’s a trust lawyer and will know what to do.”

Sally called
Norman to come over to the house. The officers on duty were babysitting her as a widow until family could take over. Sergeant Cramer displayed a fine case of dandruff on the shoulders of her blue uniform, while Officer Sam Tedler, Sally’s friend, seemed too big for the room and definitely too handsome for widow duty.

Donna played with her wedding ring, wondering if she would be expected to take it off. How long should widows wear the symbol of the spoiled promise of forever? “You all can go along now.
Norman will be here soon.” She tried to smile but her lips did not pass her teeth. “Surely, more pressing matters should be occupying your time, officers.” Her voice raised an octave, almost into a fishwife’s whine. “Don’t you have drug addicts to chase around?”

No one moved. They all watched Donna sip the Diet Coke provided by Sam, of blue eyes and blond hair like David’s.

The Coke’s wetness released Donna’s tongue from the roof of her mouth, but she could not taste the liquid. She realized her brain was shutting down to absorb the shock. The skin on her arms and back hurt too, as if the spirit within her desired flight.

She looked around the room, searching for something less painful to concentrate on. She evaluated the decorating scheme from these strangers’ viewpoint. Primary colors dominated. The half-wall between the dining room and the sunken front room was a dark, but bright green. The front room and ceilings throughout the condo were painted a pale blue, much like Sally’s. The carpeting downstairs was a deep red. She designed the central rug in the front room to match two couches of red, green, blue and yellow. Usually the colors cheered her, but not today. Donna patted Sergeant Cramer’s lower arm. “You know, I’ll need to get acquainted with being alone, eventually.”

Sam jumped up immediately; but Sergeant Cramer frowned, and he sat back down next to John.

“There will be an inquest,” Sergeant Cramer informed them.

“Why is that?” Sally asked.

A fresh terror began to seep into Donna’s brain. She could trace its cold path by the throbbing pain in her temples. She closed her eyes.

“A friend was with him,” Sam said.

“Male?” Donna blushed, embarrassed for asking. She tightened the grip on her closed eyelids.

“A fellow professor,” Sergeant Cramer added quickly. “Harry Terkle.”

Donna opened her eyes and shook her head. “Professor Terkle is a small guy not big enough to catch David.” But she didn’t want to think about David’s accident. “One time,” she said, “David caught a professor who fell down the steps in the Physics building.” Everyone was staring at her, so she added, “In West Hall. Back then the building was called West Engineering.”

“There’s a water tank to test out submarines in the basement.” Sam added to the non-sequitur.

“Really?” John said.

Donna could tell they thought she was babbling. “The other professor was old, rather frail really. David is a big man. Harry could not have helped.”

“He broke several bones,” Sergeant Cramer said.

“Which bones did Harry break?” Donna asked, completely confused by the ambiguous pronoun.

“Not Harry,” Sam said. “Your husband.”

“Professor Terkle did break four fingers of his right hand.” Sergeant Cramer added.

“He may have struck her husband.” Sam stood, sounding appropriately outraged.

“He claims,” Sergeant Cramer corrected, “his hand was holding onto your husband’s belt.”

Whirling contradictory pictures swirled in Donna’s brain. “Tell me again, did my husband sustain broken bones?”

“Yes,” Sergeant Cramer said. “His right femur and ankle were both shattered.”

“And his neck,” Sam added, stopping any further details at the sound of Donna’s sharp intake of breath.

The doorbell rang and Sally commented, “Saved by the bell.” Sergeant Cramer stood up and tugged at Sam’s sleeve. Donna thought a dressing down was going to occur shortly, as soon as the woman superior officer could get Sam out of earshot. She imagined some guidebook covered visiting wives with gifts of widowhood.

Norman, David’s youngest son, came in and sat down next to Donna. “I called Joseph. We need to tell him when to fly in for the memorial services.”

She looked diligently at David’s. Not many, if any, of his features resembled David’s. Joseph possessed David’s light coloring, but he was a head shorter, as was Norman. Donna excused herself and called her brother, Steve. “David’s fallen,” she said. “I’m afraid it was fatal. I’ll call the undertaker. We decided to be cremated. Am I forgetting anything?” The phone dropped out of her hand. She looked at the useless thing lying on the carpet as if it were a bug too big to step on. Sally picked up the phone and further explained the situation to Steve.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

“Tell Donna, I’ll come down tomorrow morning and help with the arrangements,” Steve said. “I’m so sorry. He was the love of her life.” Steve kept talking but Sally did not pay attention. Her thoughts went off track. The love of Donna’s life. But was Donna the love of David’s life.

Norman took the phone from Sally’s hand. “Yes,”
Norman said. “Everyone is pretty upset.” Norman turned toward Donna for a moment. “Do you need a doctor?’

Donna shook her head. “I’ve never taken drugs and I’m not going to start now. Tell him there’s going to be an inquest.” She looked like she felt a strong urge to vomit and rushed to the guest bathroom at the front entrance.

After a decent interval, Norman knocked on the door. “Steve wants to know why there will be an inquest.”

“How the hell should I know?” Donna answered between heaving up breakfast and lunch.

After Norman and the police exited, Sally fixated on the dining room table again, which was set for dinner.

Donna followed Sally’s gaze to the table. “This morning David prepared breakfast, as he has every morning for the last sixteen years. I heard him opening the refrigerator door to bring the milk and juice to the table. Sometimes his compulsive behavior drives me crazy; but when things get tough, like this morning, I appreciate his slightly nutty traits.”

Sally thought it best to let Donna rant on about the last time she saw her husband alive, before asking pertinent questions about the accident. Sally vividly remembered being catatonic, unable to move away from the window above her kitchen sink. Locked in unmoving time, she imagined her late husband, Danny, was taking the garbage out and would return in a minute. But he was gone, seven years ago. John reclaimed Donna’s coffee cup.

Donna looked up at him. “I have been racking my brain to see if I said anything particularly mean last night. I turned away from him, when I told him to stop dating other women when I was busy.”