Jonathan Kellerman - The Web

Gladys was running a manual carpet sweeper over the second-floor landing, looking tired but moving quickly. As I approached the door to my suite, she put a finger to her lips.

"Robin's napping," she whispered. "That's why I'm using this instead of the Hoover."

"Thanks for telling me," I whispered back.

"Can I fix you some lunch?"

"No, thanks. Is Dr. Bill around?"

"Somewhere. Claire came by to see him, brought KiKo for us to take care of. I've got him in a cage in the laundry room. Claire had the children with her- poor little things, so scared. Robin let them play with Spike."

She looked ready to cry. "Dennis promised to have someone watch them. So who does he send? Elijah Moon, everyone calls him Moojah. He's supposed to be a police deputy, but he's my age, got a belly out to here. What good can a fat old man do?"

I started down the stairs, then stopped.

"Gladys?"

"Yes, doctor?"

"You cooked for Senator Hoffman when he was the base commander."

"I was head cook, sailors working under me." She frowned.

"Tough job?"

"He liked his food fancy. All sauced up, always had to be something new. We used to send over for that really expensive beef from Japan- cows that do nothing all day but sit around and eat rice."

"Kobe beef."

"Right. And vegetables you never heard of and oysters and all kinds of expensive seafood. Nothing local, mind you. Had his crabs shipped from Oregon- Dungeness crabs. New England lobster. Philippine scallops. He was always clipping recipes out of magazines and sending them over to me. "Try this, Gladys.' Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious what kind of relationship he and Dr. Bill had. The night we had dinner at the base, they talked privately and Dr. Bill was really upset afterwards."

"I know," she said. "The next day, he didn't eat a thing for breakfast or lunch. And him so thin in the first place."

"Any idea why?"

"No. But he never liked Hoffman." Her eyes misted. "I don't believe Ben did anything, sir."

"The people down in the village do."

"Then they're stupid."

"For all Dr. Bill's accomplished, there's a lot of resentment toward him."

She gripped the sweeper and the soft flesh of her arms quivered. "Ungrateful welfare bums! Dr. Bill tried to get them to work, but they don't want to know about that, do they? Did you know he offered free leases on the Trading Post and hardly anyone was interested? Even those that rented stalls hardly showed up except to cash those welfare checks. Government keeps sending those checks, why should anyone bother? The nerve, to resent him!"

Anger had pulled her voice out of a whisper. She slapped her hand over her mouth.

"What with Ben's troubles, it's too bad about Dr. Bill and Hoffman," I said. "It would be good to have friends in high positions."

"Lot of good he'd do," she said. "That one was always for himself. Used to come up here and eat Dr. Bill's food and cheat at cards. Illegal bridge signals, can you believe that? He was no gentleman, doctor."

"Did Dr. Bill know he cheated?"

"Of course, that's how I know! He used to joke about it with me, saying, "Nicholas thinks he's fooling me, Gladys.' I told him it was terrible, he should put an end to it. He laughed, said it wasn't important."

"Cheating at bridge," I said. "So Hoffman's wife went along with it."

"No, she- it was-" She colored. "What a thing! Shameful! Half the time Hoffman invited himself. Played tennis and sunned, ordered food from the kitchen, like I was still working for him. Like everything here was his." The hand clamped over her lips again. This time, she blushed behind it.

"Everything?" I said.

"You know, a big shot- used to having things his way. I'll tell you something else, Dr. Delaware: the man was heartless. Back when I was still his cook, a plane full of sailors went down- men and their wives and children, returning to the States." She dipped a hand.

The crash Moreland had mentioned after Picker's accident. Nineteen sixty-three.

"All those people," she said. "A tragedy. So what did Hoffman do? That evening, he sends over a crate of scallops on ice and orders me to fix him coquilles St. Jacques."

She resumed sweeping. "Miss Castagna said you'll be leaving soon. I'm sorry. From the way you treat Miss Castagna I can tell you're a gentleman. And we need more kindness."

"On Aruk?"

"In the whole world, doctor. But Aruk would be a good place to start."

I was surprised to find Moreland in my office, slumped in an armchair, reading a pathology journal. He looked like a skeleton coated with wax.

Putting down the magazine, he sat up sharply. "How's Ben?"

I summarized my time in the cell.

He said nothing. The journal's table of contents was on the front cover and he'd circled an article: "Bloodstain evidence."

"Defense research?" I said.

"Someone called him on an emergency? Someone who sounded like Carl?"

"That's what he said."

His fingers looked frail as sparrow's feet. They cracked as he flexed them. "Meaning you don't believe him?"

"Meaning it's not much of a story, Bill."

A long time passed.

"Doesn't that indicate to you," he said, "that he's innocent? Surely someone as intelligent as Ben could concoct a first- rate story if his object was to get away with something."

"He's intelligent but he's also highly troubled," I said. "Drink was once a problem for him, and he obviously reacts strongly to it now. And he's got at least one prior sexual offense. Indecent exposure in Haw-"

"I know about that," he said. "That was nonsense. I took care of that for him."

I let the non sequitur stand.

He said, "So even after speaking with him you judge him guilty."

"Things look bad for him, but I try not to judge."

"Yes, yes, of course. You're a psychologist. "

"Last time we spoke, that was why you wanted me to see him, Bill."

He picked up the journal, rolled it, hefted it. Blinking.

"Forgive me, son. I'm on edge- you're certainly entitled to your opinion, though I wish you felt differently."

"I'd love to change my opinion, Bill. If you've got information, I'm listening. More important, communicate it to the lawyer you hired."

He bent low in the chair.

"Maybe you've done all you can do for the time being," I said. "Maybe you should start looking after your own interests. Down in the village there's a lot of hostility toward you."

"Alfred Landau is the best," he said softly. "His firm handled Barbara's will, after she died… She was a wealthy woman. What she left me enabled me to buy up more parcels of land. Alfred was… most helpful."

"Did he handle Ben's arrest in Hawaii, too?"

"Minimally. That was a military affair. I made a few calls, used my former rank."

He stood. "You're absolutely right. I'd better call Alfred now."

"You're not concerned about what I just told you? The anger down in the village?"

"It will pass."

I told him about the near confrontation with the four boys and how Jacqui had stepped in.

"I'm sorry it came to that. Thank God you weren't harmed."

"But you're not out of harm's way, Bill. Betty's family is enraged. Lots of idle talk's circulating about you."

That seemed to genuinely perplex him.

"You're a have among have-nots, Bill."

"I've always shared."

"Despite that, you're still lord of the manor. And the serfs aren't doing well."

"I- it's hardly the feudal system-"

"Isn't it?" I said. "Betty's murder is the spark that lit tinder, but it's obvious to me after just a few days here that things were heating up well before."

He shook his head. "The people are good."

"But their lives are falling apart, Bill. Their entire society is shutting down- when's the last time the gas station pumps worked?"