Mary Clark - Where Are You Now?

“That doesn’t mean Benny didn’t get an emergency phone call from DeMarco that night,” Ahearn pointed out. “But we’ll never prove that.”

Ahearn began reading from his notes. In the several days since he had been followed by plainclothes detectives, Nick DeMarco had done nothing unusual. His wiretapped phone conversations had been mostly business-oriented. Several from a real estate agent confirmed that his Park Avenue apartment was for sale. In fact, an offer had been made that he said he would consider. He had tried to phone Carolyn MacKenzie half a dozen times, but she had obviously turned off her cell phone. “We know she was on her way to Martha’s Vineyard,” Ahearn said. “DeMarco didn’t know, and he was getting pretty worried about her.”

Ahearn looked up to make sure he still had everyone’s attention. “Carolyn went to see her brother’s ex-girlfriend, Dr. Barbara Hanover Galbraith, but she didn’t stay long. The husband wasn’t up there. Then, when the family came into the hotel where Carolyn was staying, she bolted and drove home. Carolyn didn’t get any calls in the hotel. She hasn’t used her cell phone from the time she left town Monday, after she saw the Kramers, till now.”

“She was crying when she left the Kramers’ Monday morning. We have a picture of her leaving the building. Then a guy followed her to her car. This is a shot of him with her.” Ahearn put down his notes and handed photos to Barrott. “We checked him out. His name is Howard Altman. He works for Derek Olsen, who owns a bunch of small apartment buildings, including the one Mack lived in. Altman didn’t start the job until a couple of months after MacKenzie disappeared.”

The pictures were passed around and put back on Ahearn’s desk. “Our guys went back to see the Kramers Monday afternoon.” Ahearn’s voice was increasingly weary. In his head, he could not stop hearing Leesey’s cry, “No, please don’t…” He cleared his throat. “Gus Kramer said he told Carolyn that his wife saw Mack at that Mass when he left the note in the collection basket and that he was a killer and she should leave them alone. Carolyn started crying and ran out.”

“The first time we saw her,” Gaylor said, “Mrs. Kramer didn’t tell us that she saw Mack in church the morning he left the note, because she didn’t have her distance eyeglasses with her so she couldn’t be sure it was him. Then Monday afternoon she said that now she’s convinced it was Mack. Do we believe her?”

“I don’t believe anything the Kramers tell us,” Ahearn said flatly, “but I don’t think Gus Kramer is a serial killer.” He looked at Barrott. “Brief them on what Carolyn MacKenzie told you when you met her in the garage this morning.”

The dark circles under Roy Barrott’s eyes had given way to deep pouches. “We had it out in the garage. She swore that her brother is innocent, that just because Leesey used his name doesn’t mean she wasn’t made to say it. She said she’s going to comb every statement we make or have made and read every word that’s been published, and if she finds anything that says her brother is a killer, she will sue until the cows come home.” He paused, rubbing his forehead. “She told me she was a lawyer and a damn good one, and she was out to prove it to me. She said that if her brother was guilty, she’d be the first to turn him in before he ends up in a shootout, and then she’d work like hell to create an insanity defense for him.”

“Do you believe her?” Chip Dailey, one of the newest detectives, asked.

Barrott shrugged. “I believe she believes he’s innocent, yeah. I also now believe she’s not in touch with the brother. If he’s the one who called her mother’s apartment using Leesey’s cell phone, it’s just another one of his games.”

Ahearn’s phone rang. When he answered, his expression changed, then he said, “Be sure there’s no possibility of a mistake.” When he broke the connection, he said, “Lil Kramer spent two years in prison when she was twenty-four years old. She was working for an elderly woman. When the woman died, a lot of her jewelry was missing. Lil was convicted of stealing it.”

“Did she admit it?” Barrott asked.

“Never. Doesn’t matter. She was convicted at trial. I want her and Gus Kramer brought down here now.” He looked around the room. “All right. You all know your assignments.” His eye fell on Barrott, who was almost asleep on his feet. “ Roy, go home and sleep. You’re truly convinced that Carolyn isn’t in touch with her brother?”

“Yes.”

“Then forget tailing her. We know we don’t have enough to detain the Kramers, but once they leave here I want both of them followed.”

As the squad turned to file out, Ahearn said something that he had not been sure he was going to share. “I’ve listened to that recording at least one hundred times. This may sound crazy, but we’re dealing with a lunatic. You hear Leesey scream and then a gasping, gurgling sound, but then he disconnected her cell phone. We didn’t actually hear her die.”

“You seriously think she’s still alive?” Gaylor asked incredulously.

“I think the guy we’re dealing with would not be above that kind of game, yes.”

A fter my shouting match with Detective Barrott, I went upstairs to find concerned messages from both Nick and Elliott on the machine. “Where are you, Carolyn? Please give me a call. I’m worried about you.” That was from Nick. His final message had been left at midnight. “Carolyn, your cell phone isn’t turned on. When you get home, please call me, no matter what time it is.”

Elliott had left three messages, the latest at 11:30 P.M. “Carolyn, your cell phone is off. Please call me. I’m so concerned about you. I saw your mother this evening, and I feel that she is much stronger emotionally, but I feel as if in my concern for her, I may have been failing you. You know how dear you are to me. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

Listening to all the messages, the concern in both their voices, felt like stumbling into a warm room after an ice storm. I loved them both, but I was hardly going to call either one of them at 3:30 in the morning. I had rushed out of the restaurant in Martha’s Vineyard without having dinner, and now I realized I was starving. I went into the kitchen and had a glass of milk and half a peanut butter sandwich. I hadn’t eaten peanut butter in ages, but somehow at that moment I craved it. Then I got undressed and fell into bed. I was so wired that I didn’t think I would sleep, but the minute I closed my eyes I was gone.

Gone into a maze of mournful dreams and weeping shadows and something else. What was it? What face was I trying to see that was eluding me, taunting me? It wasn’t Mack. When I dreamt about him, I saw a boy of ten, with a cowlick and sandy hair and wide-set eyes. Mack’s son. My nephew. I woke up around eight o’clock, put on a robe, and, still half groggy, went down to the kitchen.

In the morning light, the kitchen seemed reassuringly familiar. Whenever Mom went on a trip, she let our longtime housekeeper have a mini-vacation; Sue would come in only once a week to keep the apartment fresh. All the little signs showed me that she had been in yesterday while I was at the Vineyard. There was fresh milk in the fridge, and the mail that I had dumped on a counter in the kitchen was neatly stacked. I was just grateful that she’d been here the one day I was away. I couldn’t have endured having her commiserate with me about Mack.

I didn’t have the faintest desire for anything to eat. But my head was clear, and I had some decisions to make. I tried to think them through over three cups of coffee.

Detective Barrott. I honestly thought I convinced him that I was not protecting Mack, but on the other hand, I had not told him about something that might have had everything to do with Mack’s disappearance…