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Authors: Faye Kellerman

The Burnt House (41 page)

BOOK: The Burnt House
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Dresden buried his head in his hands. “I’m feeling a little sick.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty sickening. You feel light-headed?”

“A little.”

“Can I get a paper bag, some water, and some paper towels, please?” Decker asked the video camera. A minute later, the supplies were delivered. He told Ivan to breathe into the bag while Decker mopped up his brow. “Try to breathe slowly—”

“Just leave me alone for a few seconds, okay?”

Decker complied. After the minutes passed, Dresden raised his head. He looked pale and dank. Decker offered him water and the stockbroker eagerly drank it up. “How are you holding up?”

“I want to go home.”

“Just let me finish and then we can talk about that.”

“I still feel sick.”

“I’m sure you do. It’s nauseating to hear all this, but for your own protection, you should know what’s going on. I’m trying to clue you in so you know what we’re after, okay?” Dresden nodded, although his eyes looked a bit dazed. “We know that something bad happened in that car. We know that for sure. We know that because we found other things besides the blood.”

Dresden stared at him, sweat pouring down his brow. Decker offered him a paper towel.

“We found fingerprints, Ivan. Not just your normal fingerprints, because we know that you drive the car. We expected to find your fingerprints. But we found
bloody
fingerprints.”

Decker began to tick off his fingers.

“We’ve got witnesses that saw Roseanne’s car speeding away, we’ve got Roseanne’s blood all over her car, we’ve got fingerprints,
and
we have your stripper girlfriend, Marina Alfonse, in the next room who is talking as fast as a hurricane—”


What?

“She’s not feeling very kindly to you right now—”

“I don’t know what that bitch is saying, but she’s a pathological liar!” Dresden blurted out. “She’s been arrested for prostitution! She’s on drugs!”

Decker said, “You see, that’s precisely why I want to hear your side of what happened. Because what she’s been telling us isn’t good for you. So set the record straight and tell me what happened.”

“I don’t
know
what happened,” Ivan yelled out. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you, Ivan,” Decker said. “So let’s go back to my first couple of questions. Tell me why you got the car reupholstered.”

“I told you; because Marina left it out in the rain.”

“So you gave the car to Marina?”

“No, she took it…she…”

Decker said, “Ivan, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

Suddenly Dresden’s eyes watered. He slumped in the chair and shook his head. The next time he spoke, his voice was soft and defeated.

“What’s the dif? You won’t believe me anyway.”

“Why don’t you start with the truth and let me decide. Despite what Marina’s been saying, I haven’t arrested you. I’m a fair guy. Help me out so I can help you out.”

Dresden took in a deep breath then let it out. “This is all I know, okay? And it isn’t much.”

Decker waved his hand, signaling for him to continue.

“After Roseanne died in the crash—”

“She didn’t die in the crash, Ivan.”

“I know, I know.” Dresden mopped up his sweaty face with the provided paper towels. He took another drink of water. “After I
thought
she died in the crash, I was a basket case, you know. Everything was like a blur. Especially…” He held up his hand and swallowed with difficulty. “Especially because Roseanne and I had just gotten into a big fight…well, not a big noisy fight. It was a silent fight…”

He buried his head in his hands, holding up a single finger indicating he needed a minute. Decker waited him out. Again, he lifted up his face.

“Roseanne wasn’t supposed to come back from San Jose until later in the afternoon. She called me the night before and left a message on the machine, telling me that…that she’d be home tomorrow around two. When I played back the message and heard it, I was with…” Another swallow. “I was…Marina was over the condo. We both heard the message, so Marina decided that rather than have me take her home…it was pretty late and she doesn’t live all that close…well, we decided that she should just sleep over and I’d take her home early the following morning.”

Decker nodded encouragingly. “Makes total sense.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But…” Dresden shook his head. “Roseanne must have changed her schedule and didn’t tell me about it. She came home at six-thirty in the morning and found us together.”

“Where?”

“In the condo.”

“I mean what room?”

“Oh…not in bed,” Dresden told him. “Thank God for that. I had to go into work early that morning…I told the police that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“So we were already dressed and I was making coffee when she came in. But then she saw Marina and saw that her hair was wet. Roseanne assumed the worst.”

Way
more than just a simple assumption, Decker thought. “What happened next?”

“The marriage was over anyway,” Dresden said. “But I didn’t want it to end…I didn’t want her having ammunition against me in divorce court, actually. And if that sounds bad, well, she wasn’t the saint that everyone says she was. She was fucking around on me just as much as I was screwing around on her.”

“I know that,” Decker said. “So what did Roseanne do when she saw you two together…and Marina’s wet hair?”

“She made some little snide comment about how she hoped I liked my whore because I was going to need a place to stay very soon.” He shook his head. “I went nuts. I grabbed her. I shouldn’t have done it, but I was angry. Like I said, she was fucking around, too.”

“I understand. She got your goat.”

“Man, did she ever, the little bitch! So I grabbed her and shook her hard and said something like, ‘Talk about whores.’” His eyes welled up. “I don’t remember what happened after that. My recollections get a little fuzzy. I was furious and she was furious. I remember that we tussled. I think I must have pushed her. Her purse fell to the ground and opened up…that must have been when her phone dropped out. I don’t remember if she said anything to me…maybe she whispered ‘bastard.’ But as soon as she was free, she picked up her purse and stormed out of the condo.”

He was breathing hard.

“I was so mad I was shaking. I wanted to
kill
her!”

He looked at Decker.

“But I
didn’t
. I remember Marina telling me to calm down and that she’d handle it. Then she picked up her own purse and left. I sat down on the couch, waiting for Marina to come back. I was trying to get a grip on myself. A few minutes passed, a few more passed. I suddenly realized that my shirt buttons had popped off and there were scratch marks on my chest. Roseanne must have attacked me with her nails and that’s why I pushed her…to get her off of me.”

Decker nodded. He had taken two confessions in two days. His hand was going to fall off soon from writing so much. “You pushed her to get her off, not to hurt her.”

“No, not to hurt her.” He glared at Decker. “And I
didn’t
hurt her. She was fine when she left. I mean she was mad but she wasn’t hurt. I went into the bedroom to change my shirt. I was starting to focus on what happened. Then I realized that about a half hour had passed and neither one of the bitches had come back. After I changed my shirt, I put on my suit jacket and decided to go to work. I looked around the condo’s parking lot before I left. There was no sign of Marina or Roseanne or Roseanne’s car.”

He shrugged.

“I went to work. About a half hour later I heard about the crash. I think a coworker told me. I don’t remember too clearly. I went numb when I heard the news! I wasn’t sure where Roseanne was. I didn’t think automatically that she was on the flight, but I wasn’t sure.”

Decker said, “So what did you do?”

“I tried calling Roseanne, of course. I must have called her about twenty times in a row until finally I get this incoming call from Marina, who’s calling me to tell me how sorry she was. I asked her what she meant.”

He swallowed again.

“At the time, I wasn’t thinking that Roseanne had been on the plane, only that it was a WestAir crash and maybe she needed me for support.”

“You honestly thought that?”

“She was still my wife.” He drank more water. “I really don’t know what I was thinking! But then Marina told me that Roseanne was on the plane. I felt faint. I asked her how she knew that. She said that she had talked to Roseanne in the condo parking lot…that they agreed to talk later, woman-to-woman, but that Roseanne couldn’t talk at the moment because she had to catch the flight that crashed…”

Again, he buried his head. Decker waited for him to resurface.

“I blacked out. When I came to I was sick, I was confused, I was…it didn’t make any sense to me. If Roseanne was going back to San Jose right away, why would she go home first? But then I thought about the fight and maybe that was why…”

More tears.

“I was too stunned to question Marina’s story. On some level, it made sense. I couldn’t get hold of Roseanne and now Marina was telling me she was on that plane.”

Tears ran down his face.

“I was in a stupor for a long time afterward. I didn’t go to work, I didn’t go out, I didn’t call anyone, and I didn’t answer any calls. I drank a lot because I was a wreck.” He shook his head. “I was a zombie.”

“I’m sure you were,” Decker said. “And I feel very bad for you. But we still have the car problem, Ivan. How did Roseanne’s blood get all over the car?”

“I don’t know!” Dresden protested. “I don’t have any idea.”

“You say that when you went out to the parking lot that morning, Roseanne’s car was gone.”

“Yes.”

“So how’d you get it back?”

Dresden furrowed his brow, trying to bring back the memory. “I think…I…oh, wait. Okay. This is what happened. A few days later, or maybe it was just a day later—it was after the airport reopened—Marina came back with Roseanne’s car, saying that she picked it up at the airport for me. She said she didn’t want me to have to think about something so trivial, so she did me the favor.”

“How’d she get the keys to the car, Ivan?”

“I don’t
know
how she got the keys unless she took them from Roseanne.”

Bingo,
Decker thought.

“But why would I think that? I was still thinking that Roseanne died in flight 1324.”

“So she brought you the car a few days later?”

“No…No…wait…” He thought a few moments. “Okay, this is what happened. Marina said she had the car. Then she asked if she could borrow it for a while. At first, I told her no, that it would be a very bad idea for her to drive it. You know, that it would look weird for my girlfriend to be driving my wife’s car a few days after she died. That’s when she told me that she had actually picked up the car from the airport after the crash and that it smelled funky…that some old food had been left inside and she wanted to take it to the car wash or have it professionally cleaned or something like that. I think I asked her where the car was now and she told me it was at her apartment. So I told her return it to me as soon as it was clean. I also told her that we shouldn’t see each other right after Roseanne died. Man, did she get pissed! It wasn’t like I was planning to dump her. I just needed some time to myself.”

“Totally understandable. So what did she say to you when you wanted to cool it for a while?”

“I don’t remember the exact words, just that she was going on and on about how she was going to tell everyone about the affair and that I wasn’t worth her time and that she was going to ruin me. I
finally
shut her up by promising her some insurance money once the whole thing was settled.”

“And calmed her down?”

“A little. I don’t know. I don’t remember anything too well.” He rubbed his forehead. “I think it took about a month for her to finally bring me back the car. It reeked of mold. I asked her what the hell happened. She told me she was really sorry, but she left it out in the rain with the top down. But then she handed me twenty-five hundred bucks in cash and told me to get the car reupholstered the way I liked. She
gave me Jim Franco’s name and told me that he’d do a great job and after all I’d been through didn’t I deserve a little something for me?”

“You weren’t suspicious?”

“Man, those days were such a haze. I had taken a leave of absence for a month and I wasn’t doing anything except drinking…smoking, if you get my drift.”

“Got it.”

“So Marina gives me twenty-five big ones and tells me to clean up Roseanne’s Beemer, I figured that the bitch actually had a good idea. So that’s what I did. I changed the car inside and out…it was a real mess…and that’s the last I thought about it. Then you guys started sniffing around, telling me that Roseanne didn’t die in the crash. The second the police got involved, I knew Roseanne’s father-in-law must have said something. The man absolutely hates my guts. That’s okay. I don’t like him, either. So I wasn’t concerned because why should I be nervous? I didn’t do anything wrong…I mean, I cheated on my wife, but she cheated on me. I certainly didn’t hurt her. Even after that lady detective found the phone, I still figure so what? It’s only a phone.”

“Why didn’t you just give it to the police instead of destroying it?”

“Because, I don’t know…I was shocked to see it. Like I told you, it must have fallen out of Roseanne’s purse when I pushed her. You guys were already on my case. I wasn’t going to admit to a bad fight on the morning she died. You can understand that.”

“I do.”

“Anyway, when the search of the condo came up dry for you, I thought, ‘Finally, that’s that!’ Then you started in on my car…I called my lawyer up as soon as you executed the warrant to search my car. He asked me if I had anything to worry about and I told him no, I didn’t. So he told me not to say anything if the police ask me questions, and that I should call him if things got hairy. When you called me up, saying that there were just a few questions you needed to ask, I figured why should I pay that jerk two-fifty an hour just to answer a few questions?”

BOOK: The Burnt House
10.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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