Jonathan Kellerman - Guilt

Milo rolled his tie up to his collar, let it drop. “Any idea why your husband would need beetles and surgical tools?”

Her hands clenched. “Do I have to say it?”

She turned to me.

I gave her my best therapist smile.

She said, “Fine, I’m afraid-I’m terrified that it had something to do with that poor baby in the park. And that’s another thing. The park. Like I told Dr. Delaware just before you got here, Donny Rader has a connection to that place. He used to work as a caddie at the golf course right next door. Back when he was a nothing.”

Milo’s bulk inched forward. “This is all very interesting, Ms. Moon. Thanks for coming forward.”

“What’s my choice, Lieutenant? He’s obviously trying to ruin me.”

“So you believe your husband is-”

“Could I ask a favor, Lieutenant? Please don’t call him that, he’s my husband in name only.”

“You believe Mr. Rader had something to do with the baby in the park.”

“I don’t know what else to think, Lieutenant. Those bones were treated just like he treats his stupid pipes. After he sicced those horrible bugs on them.”

“Any idea why he’d do such a thing?”

“No,” she said. “I mean he’s not a caring person, quite the opposite. But I never imagined … not until Dr. Delaware told me about the beeswax.”

“No idea at all what Mr. Rader’s motive might be?”

The question I hadn’t gotten to when the bell rang.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I have an idea. But not one that makes sense.”

“What’s that, ma’am?”

“It’s not rational. Not in terms of normal people, anyway,” she said. “I mean how can you ever explain things like that?”

“Explain what, ma’am?”

She pulled at her hair. “This is … even for him it’s-let me ask you one thing, Lieutenant. Was the baby in the park black?”

Milo looked at me. “Why would the baby be black, Ms. Moon?”

“Because the only baby I can think of who lived at my house since Boo-my youngest-was born was black. The mother was someone who worked for us. She went into labor early, actually delivered in her room in the staff house. Needless to say I was shocked. One day she’s pregnant, the next she’s got a baby. She said she delivered it herself. Her, a little girl. I wanted to get her to the hospital, she said no, she was fine. I thought that was absolutely crazy but she insisted and she seemed fine. Even though the baby was small. Not abnormal small, not a preemie. Everything seemed okay. Except for the blood and crud on her bed.”

She frowned. “My home, her delivery.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Maybe … four months ago?”

“What happened after that?”

“The baby was adorable-lovely little thing, great disposition. Cordelia. That’s the name the mother gave her. I gave the mother time off to care for her. Gave her some of Boo’s old baby clothes. Had Boo’s crib set up in her room. She repaid me by leaving without giving notice. That’s what I assumed-a flake-out. But now …”

“You think something worse happened.”

She didn’t reply.

Milo said, “Ms. Moon, why would Mr. Rader harm this particular baby?”

Long silence.

Prema said, “Maybe you can do DNA?”

“For what?”

“To find out who the father was.”

“You think it could’ve been Mr. Rader.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know what he is. I didn’t know he could be that stupid.”

“What is he?”

“Anything with a vagina gravitates toward him. He doesn’t exactly play hard-to-get.”

“You suspect the mother of the child and Mr. Rader had an-”

“I don’t suspect, I know. Once, after her workday was over, I saw her go over to his place. After dark. Wearing a minidress. There was no reason for that, she worked for me . Watching my children.”

“Did you mention it to her?”

Head shake. “No big deal, everyone has sex with him , it’s about as meaningful as taking a drink of water.”

“His promiscuity didn’t bother you.”

“In the beginning-when we started out-it sure as hell did. But later? Just the opposite. Kept him out of my hair. But did I suspect he’d knocked her up? Never, because that had never happened before. And she never got that look they always get.”

“Expectant mothers.”

“No, no,” she snapped. “Freelance vaginas thinking they’ve snagged him. When that happens they get a certain smile, a smug smile. I’ve fired assistants, cooks, maids. Not because I’m jealous. But don’t think you can collect a paycheck from me and give me that smile.”

Milo said, “The baby’s mother didn’t have the smile.”

“She had a nice smile, the way a woman gets when she’s productive. It’s a special thing for women, Lieutenant.”

Her hand grazed her belly. Tears filled her eyes. “Or so I’ve been told-no, no, scratch that, no playing the pity card, I’ve got my tribe, they’re gems, just as precious as if I’d carried them myself.”

She bounded up, hurried to the door, flung it open, ran out.

No footsteps from the terrace.

Milo glanced at me. I held up a restraining palm.

A minute later, she returned. Positioned herself between us.

Center stage.

Milo said, “Please,” and pointed to the sofa.

She said, “I know you guys are just doing your job but this is cutting the guts out of me.”

The police detective strode to the movie star’s side, placed his arm around her, guided her back to the sofa.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Moon, I really am. If it makes you feel any better, you’re helping achieve justice. For that baby and others.”

Prema didn’t answer. Milo relocated to a closer chair. Pulled it even nearer.

She said, “Mr. Fuck-everything-that-moves. Another collection. That’s why my estate manager is-was a man. That’s why the maids I have are Church Ladies in their sixties.”

“You think Donny Rader killed the baby.”

“I never would have thought him capable. I mean I know he couldn’t care less about kids. But … I guess he’s capable of anything if it’s in his best interests. She probably became an inconvenience-pressured him.”

“For money?”

“Money or emotional commitment-wanting him to step up to the plate. I will tell you one thing: Giving her serious money would definitely be a problem for him. Because he has no control over the finances. Gets an allowance because he’s an idiot.”

“What’s serious money?”

“Anything more than ten thousand dollars a month. If he needed to come up with something like that, he’d have to ask me. Or else start selling his crap.”

She turned to Milo. “That’s probably the motive, Lieutenant. She got greedy, put him in a bind.” She sagged. “But that poor baby. How did it die?”

“That’s unclear.”

“What do you mean?”

“The skeleton bore no evidence of trauma.”

“The skeleton,” she said. “Why would he do that?” She turned to me. “What kind of insanity is that, Dr. Delaware?”

I shook my head.

Milo said, “This woman, what was her-”

“Simone. Simone Chambord.”

He showed her Qeesha D’Embo’s mug shot. In this photo, no concealment of the booking numbers around her neck.

Her mouth formed an oval. “She’s a criminal?”

“She had a police record.”

“Oh, God, what a sucker I am. She told me she was a teacher’s aide, had preschool experience. That’s what the agency told me, because of that I hired her to watch over Boo, Boo was just a toddler.”

Another stare at the arrest form. “You’re telling me I entrusted my Boo to a criminal?”