Jan Burke - Dear Irene

“They did. But I’m okay now. Thanks for the concern.” I could see that Steven was taken aback by this last exchange, but he didn’t say anything. I did catch him looking at my right hand again.

“Yeah, well, you gonna put me in the paper?” Happy asked.

“Depends. For starters, what’s your name?”

“Just remember to spell it right,” he laughed.

Lots of people think we’ve never heard that old line. I pulled out a notebook. “Okay, so spell it for me.”

“J-O-H-N-N-Y – you got that?”

“I’m still with you.”

“S-M-I-T-H.” He started guffawing. He was full of appreciation for his own humor, which made him a party of one. I smiled anyway, since I needed his cooperation.

“Wait a minute,” he said, suddenly sobering. “You the one who wrote about that gal who got her brains bashed in down at the zoo?”

Steven turned chalk white, but caught my warning glance and stayed silent.

“Yeah, I’m the one who wrote about it. And I hate to say it, but I’m afraid this same guy might have something against Rosie.”

“Rosie? Naw. Naw, I don’t believe it. She never had an enemy in her life.” But he didn’t look so sure of it. He pulled a chair over and straddled its back. I noticed he was holding on to that chair pretty tightly.

“How long have you known Rosie, Mr. Smith?”

“Aw, call me Johnny. I’ve known her almost all my life. Since high school, leastways.”

“How long has she been missing?”

“Since early last Thursday.”

Almost a week ago. “That’s when you noticed she was gone?”

“That was when she was gone. We had a quick drink after closing on Wednesday night – Thursday morning – and she left at about two-thirty. She didn’t show up that afternoon – Thursday afternoon. I had to take care of the lunch crowd all by myself. Not like her to miss coming in. She’s never been sick a day in her life. I called, wasn’t nobody home. I called the cops. They wait for a while before they’ll say someone is missing. That kinda made me mad.”

“She’s never gone missing before?”

“Never. She never missed a day here. This is her pride and joy. She says it shows the American way still pays off.”

“American way?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, you know, democracy. She wasn’t born rich. She never even finished high school – flunked out. Too busy chasing boys, to be honest. But she’s just like her ma – worked hard and made something of herself. She was always real proud of everything those women did for the war effort. She was real proud of her ma. She never has liked to be called Thelma. She’s been calling herself Rosie for years.”

“Is her mother living?”

“Naw, old Bertha kicked off about five years ago.”

“Do you have a picture of Rosie?”

“I did have, but the damned cops took it. Maybe they can give you one.”

“She have many friends around here?”

“Me. Unless you want to call that bunch of lushes that tries to get credit off her ‘friends.’ We got our regulars, and Rosie’s a real cheerful, friendly type. But this place is her life. She doesn’t have time to pay social calls on people.”

“Are you involved with her?”

He laughed. “You mean, are we shacking up? No. That’s why we stayed friends.”

“Did she have a boyfriend?”

“There have been guys here and there, but nobody for some time. She told me she’s worn out on men. Said we weren’t nothing but children, always needing something from somebody. I told her she was wrong, but I gotta say, she seems happier now that she stopped chasing after men.”

“Anybody been through here lately with a special interest in her?”

“Naw. Nobody even asks where she’s gone. Makes me mad. Except for you and a cop that was in here earlier, nobody’s even showed an interest.”

I pulled out a business card and wrote my home number on the back. “Here. If you hear from her or from anyone who might know more about her, let me know, okay?”

He studied it at arm’s length. I suspected he wore bifocals, but was too vain to put them on.

“You want something to eat?” he asked, tucking the card in a shirt pocket.

We ordered a couple of sandwiches. As soon as Johnny walked off to make them, Steven whispered, “It has to be Mercury Aircraft. Other than that, Rosie and E.J. couldn’t be more different. Maybe their mothers knew something about Mercury, or maybe-”

“Slow down. We have a lot of ground to cover. But I agree, it seems to be one of the few things they had in common. But it could be a coincidence; thousands of women worked for Mercury during those years. We don’t even know for a certainty that Rosie is Thalia, but if she is, Thanatos may be choosing these women because of their ages, and because they’re single.”

“Do you think she’s dead? Rosie, I mean?”

“I don’t know.” That, of course, was stretching the truth. If Rosie was Thalia, I figured the chances that Thanatos had delayed his plans were slim to none; I just didn’t know if they had reached their conclusion.

“What did Mr. Smith mean about someone hurting you?”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to hear it right now, and I don’t need to tell it.” At his look of chagrin, I added, “Don’t worry that you’ve offended me. I’ll tell you someday.”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It isn’t prying, really. Now, you had some research to show me?”

He pulled out the list of E.J.’s research papers and articles and interests. Most were about the U.S. in the postwar era, particularly about two topics: women war workers and the Truman presidency.

“She was really interested in the role of women in the workforce in the postwar era,” Steven said. “But she couldn’t get published back when she first wrote about it, in the late fifties and early sixties. So she started to delve into the Truman administration.”

Johnny brought the sandwiches, which were surprisingly good, given his lack of enthusiasm over being of service. He didn’t linger at the table, just set the plates down and ambled back to the kitchen. As we ate, I thought about E.J. Blaylock and Rosie Thayer. I looked across the table. The professor certainly hadn’t given up on men.

“Do you have family in this area, Steven?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Friends?”

He shrugged. “Not really. The two or three people I could call friends have gone home for the holidays.” It didn’t seem to bother him much.

“What about you?” I asked. “Will you be going home for the holidays?”

He shook his head. “My folks are in Florida. I can’t afford to go back there. And I wouldn’t even if I could.”

“Why not?”

After a long sigh he said, “They didn’t approve of my relationship with E.J. I haven’t had much to say to them for the last year.”

“Sorry. You see? That’s prying.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate the concern.”

“I just wonder if this sleeplessness and isolation is healthy for you.”

“What should I do? Start bedding women like Lindsey? Hardly any solace in that. I’d rather be alone. Or with you.” He blushed. “I mean, working on this with you.”

“That’s fine as far as it goes, but you probably need more than a research project to settle your nerves. And no, I’m not talking about indiscriminate sex as a remedy for insomnia. But why not make an effort to get to know some people? People you could respect.”

Whatever reply Steven might have made was forestalled when Johnny walked up and gave us the check. I paid it and left him a handsome tip, hoping it would help to keep me in his good graces. We said good-bye to him and started the walk back to the newspaper.