Someone Must Die (14 page)

C
HAPTER
23

Diana wondered whether Jonathan had already arrived at Frazier’s. It had taken her over a half hour from the time she’d called and asked him to meet her to shower, dress in a white blouse and jeans, and then get to downtown Coconut Grove.

She had walked slowly, her mind in turmoil.

Jonathan couldn’t possibly have known Jeffrey Schwartz. There had been hundreds of students in the law school. But if he had, then Jonathan likely knew more than he had let on about Stormdrain and April Fool. He might even be involved with Ethan’s kidnapping.

But this was the man who made her tea when he sensed she was down. The man she was engaged to marry. It wasn’t possible he had some secret past or agenda. The problem was in her mind. She was anxious and stressed, and lack of sleep was making her imagine villains where none existed.

She turned off onto a side street, almost an alley, where a red-and-white-striped awning protruded from the white brick front of a small building. The sight of it calmed her. Frazier’s Ice Cream and News. The combination newsstand, ice-cream parlor, and luncheonette was one of the oldest establishments in the Grove and had been considered quaint even when Diana and Larry had moved here thirty years ago.

The window was covered with local postings of “Apartments for Rent,” “Loving Dog Walkers Available,” and “Today’s Specials—Chili, Tuna salad, Pistachio ice cream.” They were the same specials they’d had for the last thirty years.

She used to come here with Aubrey and Kevin and buy them ice-cream cones. Kevin always got vanilla, but Aubrey would order pistachio. Diana had been planning to bring Ethan here as a treat. She stood straighter.

She
would
bring Ethan here!

The bell on the front door chimed as she stepped inside, just as it used to. The place was empty except for Jonathan, who was sitting at a rickety table for two. He stood when he saw her—his pale, freckled face in a worried frown. He wore a faded, short-sleeved madras shirt tucked into a pair of khaki slacks.

A wave of guilt swept over her. He was still Jonathan. How could she doubt him?

He came toward her and gave her a light hug, not the usual bear-squeeze. She wondered whether he was responding to her remoteness or if he had some secret of his own.

“You got here quickly,” she said.

“As quickly as I could. You sounded very distressed.”

“Sorry if I worried you.”

He glanced around at the newsstand and magazines, then at the counter. “Well, this is a charming place. Shall we get something to eat?”

“Their chili has always been great.” She said it lightly, trying to hide the darkness that was threatening to reveal itself.

Jonathan signaled to the young man behind the counter. “Two chilis, please.” He looked back at her. “Coffee?”

“Just water, thanks.”

Jonathan ordered a couple of waters, then sat down across from her at the small table. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “When you called, I was just finishing up with the man heading up the FBI investigation.”

“Tom Smolleck?” She tensed. “He came to your apartment?”

“That’s right. He wanted to ask me a few questions.” Jonathan scratched his bald spot. “It was a bit awkward for me after what you told me last night about the note.”

“You spoke with him?”

“Well, yes. Of course. How could I not?”

If Jonathan had mentioned the note to the FBI, then Ethan was likely lost to them. “What did you talk about?” she asked.

“Nothing about the note.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

She nodded, relieved.

“He asked about people who might use Ethan as a political pawn in my nomination, or anyone I may have angered in the past. Since I’d already given that quite a bit of thought, I gave him a few names.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

He stared at the dulled marble tabletop. “Well, he asked about you and Larry, and about your relationship with your son and the Simmers. Whether I knew of any threats by the Coles.”

“Anything else?” She could hear the strain in her voice and realized she probably sounded unhinged, repeating her question.

He met her eyes. “You seem anxious about my interview with him. I told you, Diana. I said nothing about the note.”

She looked away. The newspapers and magazines were neatly stacked in the racks, everything in its proper place. So unlike the rest of the world.

“Diana,” he said softly, “I don’t want to make this about me, because I understand how frightened and upset you are, but . . .” He cleared his throat. “I feel you’re withdrawing from me. Almost like you’re afraid to confide in me.”

The young man put the chili on the table, along with their water and silverware.

“Talk to me, Diana,” Jonathan said when the man left. “Why did you want to meet me here?”

She took a bite of chili, then another, not sure how to ask him what she needed to ask him. Not sure what she would do if his answers showed him to be a villain in all this.

“Is it about April Fool?” he asked.

Her heart skipped a beat. So he did know something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that? You told me last night you thought April Fool might have something to do with the kidnapping and the note.”

She took a long sip of water. She
had
been the one to bring up April Fool last night. His question could have been perfectly innocent. She needed to get herself under control. “You’re right,” she said. “I am worried about that.”

He pulled in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I understand you want to leave no stone unturned,” he said, “but isn’t looking for a connection to something that happened over forty-five years ago a bit far-fetched?”

Far-fetched.
She bristled. Was he trying to divert her from discovering the truth about him?

“Nothing is too far-fetched,” she said, holding his eyes.

He blinked and turned away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. You should be pursuing every possibility. What can I do to help?”

It could have been a lawyerly tactic to cover his own involvement, but she would play along.

“One of the members of Stormdrain attended Columbia Law School,” she said. “He would have been a student when you were.”

“You mean Jeffrey Schwartz?”

Her chin shot up. “How did you know I meant him?”

“Everyone knew about Jeffrey. It was quite a big deal at the law school back then. One of our own being involved with April Fool and going underground. Then, of course, he became big news in ’81 after the killings at the bank, and again about twenty years ago when that crazy man came forward claiming to be Jeffrey Schwartz.”

She was relieved he was so matter-of-fact in the way he talked about him. “Sometimes I forget these were once front-page stories,” she said.

Jonathan rubbed one of his inflamed knuckles. “But I had also known Jeffrey personally. He started with me in ’68. We were in the same Constitutional Law study group.”

“You knew him? How well?”

“Not very, I’m afraid. Jeffrey was brilliant—I remember that. He had the sharpest mind in our group when he spoke, which wasn’t often.”

“Did you have contact with him outside of your study group and class?”

He shook his head.

“Did you know he was involved with Stormdrain?”

“Not until after April Fool.” He took a bite of chili. “In fact, now that I think of it, I can’t say I recall Jeffrey in any of my classes during our second year. I probably would never have given him another thought except for his involvement with those terrible tragedies.”

“Have you seen or spoken to Jeffrey since?”

He had a shocked expression on his face. “Of course not. Why are you asking me this?”

“As you said, I’m leaving no stone unturned.”

He shook his head. “These things happened long ago, Diana. It was an awful time for many of us. Must you exhume it?”

“Yes, I must,” she said. “Did you know anyone else involved with Stormdrain?”

He dropped his eyes abruptly, as though she had hit a nerve. He took a sip of water, then smoothed his few graying hairs over the bald spot on the top of his head. “I knew a woman in the group. We dated for a short while.”

“Jesus,” she said. “You dated someone in Stormdrain and never told me?”

“Why would I have told you? I dated several women in college and law school.”

Under ordinary circumstances, this would have made sense. Jonathan hadn’t known about her own involvement with Stormdrain, so there would have been no reason to bring up some woman he had once dated. Yet, with Ethan’s disappearance, this took on a whole new significance.

“I don’t know what she saw in me,” he said. “I was a boring law student, and she was this wild firebrand.”

Wild firebrand. There was only one woman in Stormdrain who fit that description. “What was her name?” Diana asked.

“What does it matter?” he said.

“Who was she, Jonathan?”

He shied back like a horse at the question. Or maybe it was her tone of voice.

“Gertrude,” he said. “Gertrude Morgenstern.”

He had dated Gertrude. How could she not have known?

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Her voice was too loud in her own ears.

He stared at his freckled hands, folded in front of him on the table. “It wasn’t something I was proud of.”

The bell on the front door chimed. A young man and woman in their jogging clothes came inside. It registered that the man had one prosthetic leg.

Diana made an effort to slow down her breathing. If she wanted Jonathan to open up, she had to stop being accusatory.

“I never told anyone about my relationship with Gertrude,” Jonathan said. “Can you imagine what it might have done to me politically if it had come out that I once dated one of the organizers of Stormdrain?”

Diana knew exactly what it would have done. It would have leveled his career. He never would have been considered for the Supreme Court. She took another sip of water. Her brain was getting foggy with overload. Jonathan had dated Gertrude. Jeffrey Schwartz had dated Gertrude.

“How long did you see each other?” she asked, making an effort to keep her voice even.

“Three months or so. Rarely in public. I’m not sure if she didn’t want us to be seen together, or she enjoyed our private time as much as I did. I’m a little ashamed to say, I was happy enough with the arrangement. She would come to my room late at night, then leave a few hours later. I didn’t get very much sleep those three months.”

“Did you know she was also seeing Jeffrey Schwartz?”

He sighed. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

Her mind was racing. “Do you think it’s possible Jeff is behind Ethan’s kidnapping and the ultimatum?”

His brow creased. “That doesn’t make sense. Why now, after forty-five years?”

To punish her, of course, but how could she explain that to Jonathan? “What happened between you and Gertrude?” she asked instead.

“Well, I can’t say we went out with a whimper,” he said. “It was quite a scene, actually. Not like anything I’d experienced before, or since.”

He glanced over at the young man and woman who were tasting each other’s ice-cream cones at the counter. “She was very angry with me,” he said. “I would say disappointed, but it went much deeper than that.”

“Why? What did she want from you?”

“To share her ideals. To join her.”

“But you didn’t want to commit to something political that might hurt your future?”

“Oh, dear, Diana. That sounds a bit harsh.”

“Help me understand.”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” he said. “I admired what SDS and the Weathermen and Stormdrain wanted to accomplish. At least, initially. Stop the war. Fight prejudice against blacks. Make government accountable for its actions. But once the organizations decided violence was a justified means to their end, I wanted nothing to do with them.”

The doorbell chimed. The young couple left with their ice creams. The man walked naturally, completely at ease in his artificial limb.

“But Gertrude did,” she said.

“Gertrude not only advocated violence, she demanded it.” His eyes had become moist and shiny. “She insisted I join her in her ultimate grand gesture, or else. I told her I wanted no part of it, or of her. She left my room, angrier than I’ve ever seen anyone.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I could have saved her.”

“Nothing could have saved her,” Diana said.

He put his glasses back on. “I imagine you tried.”

The breath snagged in her chest. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He waved his hand ineffectually. His face was flushed.

Jonathan was holding something back.

“What else haven’t you told me?” she said.

He ran his tongue over his lips. “I knew you back then.”

“You
knew
me?”

“Well, not exactly. I knew who you were. I knew you were Gertrude’s roommate.”

His face went in and out of focus. This man she loved and was planning to marry had lied to her.

Deceived her.

Just like Larry had.

“Please don’t be upset with me, Diana.”

“Did you know who I was when we met?” she asked.

“I wasn’t sure. When we were first introduced at the Columbia event, I thought it was you, even though your name was different. You haven’t changed much, though I certainly have.” He touched his bald spot, a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. “I once had a full head of long red hair, a moustache and a beard.” He paused. “Did you remember me when we first met?”

“No. I would have said something if I had. Why didn’t you?”

“And tell you what, exactly? That I knew you’d been the roommate of an extremist from Stormdrain? A woman I’d had a relationship with? It would have been uncomfortable for both of us.”

“And later?” she asked. “When we got to know each other better? There were plenty of opportunities for you to have mentioned it.”

“As more time passed, it became awkward to bring it up.”

“Well, it’s no longer awkward, Jonathan. Now it simply feels like you’ve deliberately lied to me.”

“No, Diana. It isn’t like that.” He reached across the table for her hand. His fingers were cold. She pulled away.