Shades of Eva (60 page)

Regardless, the thought that Anna knew who
Fred Levantle was—that Mom may have told her who Fred Elms truly
was—was sitting with me like a rotten ham sandwich sitting on the
gut. “Are you telling me that Mom knew who Elms was?”

Dad spoke quickly. “It appears that she
recognized him. Not before the incident, but afterward.”

“And she told Anna this? Anna knew this all
this time, and she never told you?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Anna didn’t
know—not for sure. She suspected. Your mother didn’t outright say.
I’d never seen Fred Levantle. I couldn’t identify him. Your mother
never told anyone else outright. And I never met the man. Anna went
to the police.”

Of this, I was stunned. In all of our
investigation, Abby and I had not observed one document attesting
to any police investigation into the true identity of Fred Elms.
Sure, there was a report made after the shooting, but there was
nothing relating to any question about Elms’ identity—no addendum,
no deposition, no affidavit. Nothing to suggest Mom, or anyone, had
ever claimed or otherwise insinuated Elms may have been someone
else—a stalker, a face from her past, and an evil face at that.

This was all news to me. “How,” I said,
standing up to pace the room, could Mom not be clear about
something like that?”

Dad just shook his head. “You don’t
understand her,” he said. “The guy was dead. I think she was trying
to do what she could to erase this.”

My mind crossed to another tragedy Mom tried
to erase—that of her assault and Elmer’s abduction from this very
room

“What did the police do?” I countered. “You
said Anna went to police.”

“They dismissed it. Your mother had a
history of delusions. They didn’t want to put Mrs. Elms through
that sort of thing, or the Levantle family, based on Anna’s
speculation or your Mom’s reaction, no matter what it
signified.”

“And Mom never told you?”

“No.”

“Anna never brought her suspicion to
you?”

“She asked me if I’d recognize Fred Levantle
if I saw him. I told her I wouldn’t because we’d never met. I told
her to ask Ully or Ellie. Son, I wouldn’t have stayed in that
house, or let your mother stay there, if I knew who he was. You
have to believe that.”

I closed my eyes. Anna had gone to Ully. I
could only imagine what he’d said. I had never asked myself if Ully
ever knew if Fred was living or dead. He would have said something
to Abby when she had his head in a vice, wouldn’t he? He would have
spilled the beans.

“Ully didn’t know,” I told Dad. “He couldn’t
have.”

Dad agreed. “I don’t think he did.”

But something wasn’t right. I thought of
Abby. She was going to confront Ully over Sophia’s death. But there
was more. There had to be. I thought back to my conversation with
Ully in this very room. He had told me that he was helping me to
find what I was looking for—or maybe who I was looking for. I’d
asked him outright, ‘You know where Fred is, don’t you?’ to which
he replied, ‘That’s not a question for me. That’s a question for
your doctors.’

And he’d said something else: ‘It’s not Fred
you’re looking for. You’re looking for someone else! They’ll tell
you…when you’re ready to know.’

He did know!

“Grandma Ellie would have said something,” I
told Dad, almost hollering at him. “She would have identified him
had she seen the Elms picture!’

Dad smiled softly. “Of course she would
have.”

“Did Anna even ask her, or did she just ask
Ully?”

“Ellie was very sick in those days, you have
to remember. We were trying to protect her from all of this. I
don’t think she was asked, and you can’t blame Anan for that.”

I could only imagine how Ully must have
answered Anna’s question as to if Fred Elms was Fred Levantle. If
he did know, he wouldn’t want Fred identified, anyway. He’d have to
answer some questions if that was the case. He’d have to admit to
knowing where Levantle, the ex-patriot, was. He’d have to answer
questions from Dad, and police, and more pointed questions from the
Asylum docs. He’d suffer less by telling Anna it was all one
delusion in my mother’s head.

I had to wonder if he ever saw the toolshed
photographs that Ben saw. Had he even bothered to look at them, or
did he know outright? Was it all a waste of his time? The man was
dead, so what difference would it have made to Ully? If he had
bothered to look, he’d have recognized Fred just as Ben recognized
him. I asked Dad if Ully had been shown the actual pictures, and he
told me it was a question for Anna.

So I asked him about Ben. “If Anna had the
photographs, why didn’t she just take it to Ben back then? Ask the
brother directly. He would have told her yes or no. If she had
taken it to Ben, or Ellie then none of this would have ever
happened. We’ve been hunting a dead man for Christ’s sake, and now
I’m a fucking fugitive!”

Dad remained calm. “There’ve been worse
things to hunt for, Mitchell. You’ll have to ask Anna or Ben those
questions. I don’t know.”

“Do you still have Abby’s aunt’s things?” I
said, changing the subject for the moment.

Dad was shaking his head. “They just came to
get what I had. She was gathering everything to give to Abby.”

“To give to Abby?”

“You don’t understand her, son. Anna has an
offer for you. She has one for Abby, too. I’d advise you both to
except those offers.”

I began to pace the room. This all felt so
out of my control. It also felt unfair. Emily’s art had turned into
a grand, collective bargaining chip, I was almost sure. Anna wasn’t
going to just hand anything over to anyone.

“Ully’s not going anywhere as long as you
and Abby confess to what you did,” Dad said, interrupting my
thoughts, “and to what you know. If you unearthed Elmer in that
stolen tool chest, then you have to bring it forward. Ully’s on
record saying Fred came out carrying a red toolbox. That’s not
information he would have known unless he was there, because Eva
didn’t tell police that. She didn’t see that. She said Fred left
the grounds carrying something. But Ully got specific. If you have
something, you have to bring it forward or else he’s going to walk.
That means you have to take responsibility for what you did, son.
Police didn’t find anything out there under that tree. That means
one of two things: either there was no burial there, no body and no
toolbox, or you two have something you are hiding.”

I looked up to the pinhole camera sitting in
the ceiling of Dad’s seclusion, shining there like a tiny black
opal. “We have proof. We have Ully admitting to everything on tape
in this very room.”

“You need more than a verbal confession from
Ully. He says you told him what to say.”

“What if I told you we have the
toolbox?”

“Then I’d tell you that it’s not yours to
keep. And it’s also the only way Ully doesn’t go home.”

I cut Dad off. “Where were you? Where the
hell were you that night?”

Dad seemed taken aback. He just stared at
me, and then dropped his head. He’d been standing, but now he moved
to an armchair and sat down.

“I suppose I had that coming,” he replied.
“Do you really want to do this now? Isn’t your little fling waiting
for you somewhere, waiting to board the next outbound train?”

My nerves had tensed up and I was beginning
to tremble, again. The thought that I might faint or have another
seizure suddenly came to me. Dad must have noticed something was
amiss. He took note of the tremors and commented on them. “Those
look a lot like the DTs, son.”

“Yeah, so what of it?”

“You have a problem with the spirits?”

“You could say that,” I replied. “Going on
twenty-five years now!”

“I’m sorry, Mitchell. I truly am. I did
terrible things when I was younger—to you, and to your mom. I
wasn’t there, and when I was there, I was absent.”

I took in a deep breath and let it all out.
Dad did too. I could see that he was trying, and that he’d been
struggling with this for quite some time. Maybe it wasn’t just the
alcohol that seemed to have added years to him; maybe there was
some level of guilt that had stolen a few of his heartbeats.

“We have the same blood running through our
veins, son, so let’s start fresh. Let’s start today.” Dad reached
out a hand for me to take. It was the outreach I’d been waiting a
lifetime for. He wasn’t offering me a gun, and he wasn’t giving me
another test or riddle to solve. He was offering me a hand, plain
and simple…and I accepted it.

I could sense Abby’s presence
from
the phone in my pocket. I had switched the audio transmitter button
to on so that she could hear what Dad was saying. I was hoping it
might warm her heart to hear Dad and I reconciling as we were. I’m
sure she wouldn’t be pleased with me having chosen to pay Dad a
visit, but I was sure she’d understand. I was hoping it made her
happy. I was hoping she might join us somehow, in that happiness.
The thought made me excited. But excitement—like happiness—is a
fickle mistress. She comes and she goes, and she’s a bit hard to
predict—which was also Abby’s nature. And Just as I was about to
make my way over to Ben’s hotel to hear their offer, the door
opened and in walked Drs. Norris and Ben Levantle.

"Mitchell?" Anna said. She let the door
swing closed behind her.

“Mitchell!” Ben echoed.

I gave a quick look to the window through
which I’d entered. I looked to Dad as if he’d just betrayed me, and
turned in stunned submission to face Anna and Ben. Anna through two
hands up in front of her as if to gesture me to calm down. Ben had
a look of shock on his face.

“Mitchell, it’s been a long time,” Anna
said.

I didn’t respond.

She looked to my father. He said, “He came
to the window, Anna. I let him in. He was on his way to see you.”
Dad turned to me, expectantly.

Anna smiled as if this were a normal part of
her day. “Everyone just relax. We can talk at the hotel, or we can
talk here. We just need to lay all of our cards out on the table.
We need to be honest with one another, no matter what.”

“How’d you guys know I’d come here?”

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Mitchell.
If I was you, I’d want to pay one last visit to my father,
too.”

“You knew I was coming here?” I said.

Anna smiled. “We’ve been expecting you.
Where is Abigail?”

“I don’t know.”

Anna was shaking her head. “No bribes,
Mitchell; just assurances. Her aunt’s art is hers, whether she
turns herself in or not. I will keep it for her.”

I dropped it for the moment. I wanted to
know if Anna remembered me. I wanted to know how long she’d known
who I truly was. So I asked her.

“I knew who you were the first time I saw
you in the hallway after Ully arrived.”

“But how?” I responded. “It’s been
twenty-five years.”

“I recognized your face.”

“I was five-years-old the last time you saw
me. I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“You’re a perfect blend of your parents.
What can I say?”

Dad smiled at that. “Then why didn’t you
report me?” I said. “You don’t hire descendants.”

Again, Anna was smiling. “I’ve been wanting
to revamp that policy for years. It never was my idea. And besides,
I wanted see what you had up your sleeve. You don’t strike me as a
violent person.”

“So you’ve been watching me?”

“I had Isaac install a tracking device in
your car.”

‘So that’s how you knew I was here.”

“There aren’t too many reasons to park a car
at Vole Stadium when you agreed to meet Ben at the hotel.”

I took a seat in the armchair and slumped
forward. Abby was not going to be pleased by this turn of
events.

“Mitchell,” Anna continued, taking a seat in
a chair in front of me, “I know Abby is listening to us, and we’re
not here to ambush you, or her, or to have you arrested, but I need
to know where she is.”

Anna did not look happy. “If she is on the
premises, you have to tell me. Ully has a lot of protection right
about now. She’s not safe here.”

I remained silent.

“Your silence is not going to serve
her.”

Still I was quiet.

“I want to clear the air, then,” Anna
continued.

I almost laughed. “Clearing the air in here
is going to take one hell of an air freshener.” I turned to Ben.
“If you want to clear the air, why don’t you start? Tell me about
my mother, Ben. Tell me what you felt for her?”

Ben pulled up a chair and sat down beside
Anna in front of me. “I loved her,” he began, speaking without
hesitation. “Your mother was a vivacious, energetic teenager.
That’s how I remember her. She was in love with the world. She was
beautiful, kind, and passionate. She let you know how she felt. She
cried when she was sad. She laughed when she was happy. She was
rich in spirit—and she was protective—just like you are. She lived
for the future, for you, Mitchell.”

I was listening, but I hadn’t quite
acknowledged what he said. There was a compliment in there
somewhere, but all I was getting was more news that Mom had passed.
I think Anna recognized that.

She interjected. “You suffered tremendously,
Mitchell. Even your father has acknowledged that. I think it needs
to be said, again.”

I was nodding, but I didn’t want this to be
all about me. “Do you believe Ully and Fred did this to her?” I
asked anyone who’d answer.

Almost in a chorus, Ben, Anna, and my father
answered unequivocally: “Yes.”

“You all believe my mother? You don’t
believe Ully?”

Anna responded. “We believe your mother was
raped, several times, some under Ully’s watch. We believe he
profited financially from those rapes. We are pushing to press
charges against Ully for conspiracy to commit rape, and for the
unlawful disposal of human remains, as well as the murder of Sophia
Bermicelli.