Читать книгу Bone Box - Faye Kellerman, Faye Kellerman - Страница 14

By the time they reached CUNY, it was almost noon and the day had become warm and humid. Decker was suffering in a suit and tie. Karen had asked to meet them at a nearby sandwich café that lacked air-conditioning and depended on a giant fan to make the inside tolerable. The place was overflowing with people. Besides a long line at the counter, all the tables were taken. Beyond ordering, there was very little conversation going on. The patrons, interchangeable in their shorts and T-shirts, were either reading or glued to electronic devices.

McAdams looked around. “That person in the corner table is guarding those two empty chairs like they hold the secret of the ancients. She has a short haircut, no makeup, and no jewelry except for a wedding ring. I think we’ve found our woman.”

Decker loosened his tie. “Let’s go.”

“Why do you dress like that when it’s boiling outside?”

“Like what? You’re wearing a jacket.”

“With a black T-shirt underneath. Not a long-sleeved shirt and a tie.”

“This is my professional uniform. People talk to me easier if I’m in a suit. That’s what they see on TV and that’s what they’ve learned to expect. Shall we go? The woman at the table is eyeing me, probably because I’m old and dressed in a suit and tie.”

“Yeah, you don’t exactly blend in.”

“Astute of you to notice.” He walked up to the table. “Karen Osterfeld?”

She nodded and the men sat down. Karen’s expression was somber: intense dark eyes capped by thick brows. There were wisps of facial hair over her lip, but her complexion was smooth. She was dressed in a white T-shirt and red board shorts showing considerable downy arm and leg hair. Her feet were shod in sandals.

“I’m Detective Decker, and this is Detective McAdams. Thank you for speaking to us.”

“You found remains.”

Decker nodded gravely. “The bones have been tentatively identified as Lawrence or Lorraine Pettigrew.”

“Call her whatever you want. I knew her as Lawrence as well as Lorraine. I’ve been expecting this day for a while. Where did you find the bones?”

“They were off a hiking trail north of Greenbury.”

“Which one?”

“Bogat Trail.”

“I don’t know it, and I knew most of the trails up there.”

Decker said, “You went to Morse McKinley?”

“Clarion. I was a year ahead of Lorraine in school. Back then we weren’t romantically involved. We met again down here—same circle of friends.”

“Bogat was put in after you graduated,” Decker said. “Karen, was Lorraine a hiker?”

“Not that I knew.” A beat. “I remember that once I asked him—he was him back then—if he wanted to go hiking with me. I remember it was an easy trail and it was a beautiful autumn day. He gave me a resolute no. I can’t imagine why he’d be in the woods voluntarily.”

“When Lorraine disappeared, did you two still have friends in the area?”

“Not so much for me. When she vanished, I’d been out of school for a while. I knew maybe a couple of teachers. No one close.”

“What about Lorraine?”

“She had some connection up there. The day she left to go up north, she told me she was visiting some friends. And that was the only thing she told me.”

“No names?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. As showy as she was, Lorraine could be very private. I didn’t want to intrude into her personal space.”

“By asking her who she was visiting?”

“If she had wanted me to know, she would have told me.” Karen winced. “You’ve got to remember that I was pregnant. It was a rough first trimester. I was happy to be alone and I thought that Lorraine just needed some time to herself.”

“How was her mood?” Decker asked.

“Like, did I detect something wrong?” Her eyes moistened. “Nothing that I saw. I certainly didn’t expect her to vanish.”

“Of course not,” Decker said. “And you have no idea who her old friends were?”

“I knew she was still in contact with a few of her old professors via e-mail. She contacted them once she started working in finance.”

“So she might have been visiting them?”

“Possibly.” Karen blinked a couple of times. “After she disappeared, I combed through her e-mails to see if I could figure out where she went and who she was seeing. I know Joanne hired a private detective. I’m sure the PI talked to dozens of people. I know I did. You don’t know how panicked I was. I was alone, I was pregnant, and I was very, very confused.”

She looked at the tabletop as she spoke.

“When she didn’t come back Sunday night and I couldn’t contact her by phone, I started calling people that we knew in common. No one even knew she was going up to the colleges.”

Tears started falling down her face.

“At the time, I thought she might have lied to me. That she was having second thoughts about the baby. That she was having second thoughts about me. That she found someone else. I was half mad at her as well as half panicked. When I called her work on Monday and she hadn’t shown up, I was beside myself.”

“What did you do when you couldn’t locate her?”

“I frankly don’t remember too much because I was in such a state. I did call the Greenbury Police. They wouldn’t take a report right away. Since no one remembered seeing Lorraine, they claimed it was doubtful that she made it up north. They were claiming that she probably disappeared in the city. After a while, I began to believe that she really did cut bait and run.”

“Did you contact Pettigrew’s parents?”

Karen sighed. “No. Lorraine didn’t want her parents to know about the pregnancy. She wanted to wait until after the baby was born.”

“Whose idea was the pregnancy?” McAdams asked.

“It was hers. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why she disappeared. She wanted a baby way more than I did. But I loved Lorraine, and she wanted to be a mom of her own biological child. So we decided to do it before we finished off our sex reassignment surgeries. I’d already had top surgery, so I knew I couldn’t nurse, but that was fine with Lorraine. She wanted to be the primary caretaker.”

There was a long pause.

“I never transitioned completely. After I had the baby, it didn’t seem important. Gender is fluid, and I am who I am. I don’t need gonads to tie me down.”

Decker nodded. “Karen, you said you called people when Lorraine didn’t come home.”

“Yes.”

“Do you still have any record of who you called?”

“Of course. I made a list. I have a whole file on her.”

McAdams asked, “Who’s in the file?”

“People I called. As much as I could, I tried to get hold of her phone records or her e-mail because without a body, she still could be alive. I just couldn’t believe that Lorraine would take off on me. I kept thinking there had to be a reason. I didn’t want to think bad of her.”

“We’ll subpoena the records. In the meantime, could I take a look at the file?”

“Sure. It’s at home.” Karen put her head down. “You might also want to talk to Joanne Pettigrew … like that never crossed your mind. I suppose you already talked to her.”

“Yesterday,” McAdams said. “Before we got tentative confirmation of the remains. We’re going to her house after we’ve finished talking to you.”

“Joanne still doesn’t know about Aesop.”

“We know. Jordeen mentioned that you never told her about her grandson.”

Karen sighed.

“At first, I didn’t tell Joanne because I felt I was sort of honoring Lorraine’s last wishes. And I was dealing with so much. I really didn’t want to have a pity party with Joanne. I know that sounds callous, but there was only so much grief I could take.” A long silence. “You can tell her.”

“It might be better coming from you,” Decker said.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” A sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll man up and call her.”

“Wait a few minutes until we call and tell her that the remains have been identified.”

“When are you going to do that?”

“Right now.” Decker stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment. You can talk to Detective McAdams.”

“About what?” Karen asked. But Decker had left the café. “Strange one, your boss.”

McAdams thought: Pot … kettle. “How did you and Lorraine fall in love?”

“When I came back from top surgery, Lawrence—he was still a he back then—he told me he admired my commitment to who I was. We started talking about sex reassignment, what it would mean to us, to our families and friends. We had long, long talks about it. When we met again in New York City, he told me that I had inspired him to take the plunge and undergo sex reassignment surgery. We talked some more and we fell in love. We made love. You know, just because you identify as the other gender doesn’t mean that your biological gonads don’t function. He was dressed as a woman and I was the man with my top surgery, but we were still technically boy and girl. What a world, huh?”

McAdams nodded, but remained silent.

“We were both going to get surgery that summer. But then Lorraine got it in her head to have a baby. What could I do?”

Decker came back. “I told Joanne that we’d be there in an hour.” Silence. To Karen: “This might be as good a time as any to make contact with her.”

Karen looked at her watch. “I’ve got class in ten minutes.” When Decker didn’t answer, she said, “I suppose I should get it over with. I named my son Aesop because those were Lorraine’s favorite stories. Believe it or not, she loved morality pieces. They provided absolutes in our ambiguous world. Are we done here?”

“Yes,” Decker said. “When can I get your Pettigrew file?”

“Come to my place around eight. By then the kids are asleep and if we need to talk at greater length, I can concentrate on you instead of the children.” She looked at her watch again and stood up. “I gotta get this call over with. I’ll see you tonight.”

After she left, Decker said, “What did you two talk about?”

“How they fell in love and wanted to marry: she as a boy and he as a girl. I know that none of this is relevant, but even she admitted it was a strange world.”

“It is a strange world. But as a detective I don’t care about those things. All I care about is who put Pettigrew in the ground.”

It had been an emotional day with tears coming in all directions. There was one positive upshot. As he and McAdams were talking to Joanne, Karen and Jordeen dropped by with Aesop and Birgitta. That’s when the waterworks became unstoppable. It was a good time to make an exit and leave the newly formed family in peace.

After dealing with Joanne, they went back to Manhattan. Decker went to the local Staples and made two copies of Karen’s files, which she had brought to Joanne’s. By the time he was done, it was close to six in the evening. He walked back to the Park Avenue apartment. The door was open when he knocked.

McAdams was stretched out on a rose-colored silk brocade sofa in his pajamas. He had his nose in a book. “Wassup?”

“Good book?”

“A course book.” He put it down. “One year down, two to go.” He shrugged. “What’s our next step?”

“I’m going to Brooklyn for dinner.”

“Have fun.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I didn’t know I was invited.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, you’re invited. I’d like to make it to Brooklyn within the hour so you might want to change.”

“Funny ha-ha. Where are we going for dinner?”

“Does it matter?”

“How should I dress, Old Man?”

“In street clothes would be a start. Rina made supper so we’re eating in. Dress lightly. Sammy and Rachel have very poor AC.”

“So why don’t we go out?”

“They couldn’t find a babysitter.”

“So why not just take the kid?”

“I don’t make the decisions, Tyler, I just follow orders. When you’ve been married as long as I have, you just show up and smile. Rina invited you. Do you want to come or not?”

“Yes, I’ll come. Jeez.”

“By the way …” Decker plopped down a box onto the floor. “Your copy of the files. We can go over them tonight after dinner.”

“Where? Here?”

“I’d like to stay here for one more day. There are people on the list who live in New York. Might as well question them while I’m here. And I have to return all the original files to Breck and to Karen now that we have copies.”

“What about the Staten Island police? Do you think we should talk to them since Joanne filed a report with them?”

“We should give them a courtesy call and help them clear their missing persons file. But since Pettigrew was murdered in Greenbury, they don’t have anything to do with the case.”

McAdams stood up and hefted the box. “We’ve got a lot of reading to do.”

“And it’s only going to grow once we get the e-mails and the phone records. Get dressed already.”

“Patience, man. I know you’re starved, but I’m not the cause of your low blood sugar.”

“I know you’re not the problem. But, at present, you’re the only scapegoat I have. Put some clothes on and let’s get out of here.”

Tyler had retired an hour ago, but at two in the morning, Decker was wide awake. By three, he finally crawled under soft down covers. It had been a good night. Gathering all the files and cross-referencing proved to be beneficial. He had put almost all the names listed into four categories: Pettigrew’s relatives, his closest friends, his work people, and his old friends from his Greenbury days, this last category being the smallest but the most important because Pettigrew was murdered there. As for the others, he had narrowed the New York City field down to four people he still wanted to interview:

1 Harold Cantrell: Pettigrew’s boss for two years at a place called the McGregor Fund.

2 Marta Kerr, aged thirty: described by PI James Breck and Karen Osterfeld as a close friend of Pettigrew. He had even stayed with her for a couple of months. Her address was in Chelsea and there was an associated phone number.

3 Darwin Davis, aged twenty-five: a friend of Pettigrew from his Morse McKinley days. They reconnected once Davis graduated and moved to the city.

4 Dr. Elwood Marshall (aged, well, who really cares?): Pettigrew’s surgeon and doctor, who specialized in sex reassignment surgery. He had been working with Pettigrew since he was twenty up until his disappearance five years ago.

Decker would make the calls first thing in the morning. He was thinking about how he’d arrange his day when he drifted off and lost himself in a world he wouldn’t remember in the morning.