Jan Burke - Remember Me, Irene

It was a plain envelope postmarked from Riverside, with a typewritten address to Mr. Ben Watterson, President, Bank of Las Piernas. Although it had been sent to Ben at the bank, it was marked “personal and confidential.”

It contained a single black-and-white photograph. I saw the back side of the photo first. “Be in touch soon” was inscribed in a delicate handwriting. I turned the photo over.

A young African American man was smiling proudly, holding an oversized check-the type that are mocked-up for publicity shots. Ben Watterson was also smiling, his arm around the young man’s shoulders. “Bank of Las Piernas Scholarship Fund” was printed at the top of the check, which was signed by Ben. The date was June 1, 1969. The amount was $2,500. The payee was the young man-Lucas Monroe.

THE ENVELOPE WASaddressed to Ben’s office,” I said. “How did you get this?”

“Ben was in here one night, staring at it. He seemed unsettled. I asked him about it, and he said, ‘Oh, this is just a young man who won a scholarship from the bank a long time ago. Probably wants to see me about a job.’ There was a fire in the fireplace that night, and he reached over as if he were going to burn the photograph. That time, I was able to stop him.”

She looked over to the fireplace, as if she could still see Ben reaching toward it. That blessed numbness of hers seemed to give way a little. She closed her eyes and covered her mouth with a trembling hand, as if her emotions were right there, right at her lips, being held in by the pressure of her fingers. But after a moment or two, she drew in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and dropped her hand. Although her voice was a little less steady than before, she went on.

“I took it from Ben, and told him that it looked like someone had saved that photograph for a long time, and that he ought to return it. After all, there was the note, ‘Be in touch soon.’”

“You said, ‘that time.’ What did you mean?”

“There were at least two pictures sent to Ben by this Lucas Monroe.” She handed me the second envelope, postmarked the day after the first one.

It was empty.

“Do you know what was in it?” I asked, turning it over in my hand.

“Yes. A color photocopy.”

A color photocopy. Andre Selman, who had certainly known Lucas, had recently received one, too. “A photocopy of what?”

“Some people on a boat. I only saw part of the page, and only for a few seconds. Ben succeeded in burning that one.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. Just that it was something someone had sent him to remind him of old times. He said it was a picture of our old boat. But I didn’t actually get a good look at it, so maybe that wasn’t true.”

“Was he in the habit of burning papers he didn’t need?”

She shook her head. “No, in fact, I think he was embarrassed when I caught him burning that one. He shoved the envelope into his desk drawer and tried to change the subject. I was mildly curious, but knowing how much Ben hated boats, it didn’t surprise me that he burned a picture of one.”

“Hated boats? I thought you just said you owned one.”

“For a time. Ben became completely disenchanted with it-in fact, he never went out in any kind of boat after we sold that one to Andre. That was years ago.”

“Andre Selman?”

“Yes. Anyway, knowing how he felt about being out on the water, you can understand why I didn’t question him when he burned the photocopy. It didn’t seem important at the time.” She closed her eyes, then added in a shaky voice, “Famous last words, right?”

I decided to keep the discussion on neutral ground. “Nothing else in the envelope?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. But maybe there was-maybe something was in it before he showed it to me, before he came home with it. All I know is, when Ben received these letters, something started eating at him. He started talking about retiring, about getting away from Las Piernas all together.”

“Ben talked about leaving Las Piernas?”

“Yes. Unbelievable, isn’t it? Things only got worse from there. I should have tried to get him to talk to me more. I should have seen this coming. Looking back-”

“Looking back is useless. I remember what you said to me on the ride home, Claire. You had been trying to get him to talk to you. He wouldn’t.”

She bit her lower lip, hard. “I think Ben was being blackmailed,” she said. “I think he was being blackmailed by your friend Lucas Monroe.”

“Hold on, Claire. I admit there are some suspicious circumstances here-”

“Suspicious! I would say so!”

“Please hear me out.”

“Ben…” She was shaking now. The tears started flowing. I stood up and reached out to her. She could have turned from me, but perhaps because I had been in this house with her the last time this happened, she let me hold her while she cried.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment.

“It’s okay.”

She pulled some tissues out of a pocket and tried to dry her face, the tears continuing to thwart the effort. “I’m sorry,” she said again, “it wasn’t fair to call him your friend. You told me you haven’t seen him in years.”

“Uh…that’s not exactly true.”

That stopped the tears. She looked at me over the tissue.

“I saw Lucas. I just didn’t know it was Lucas when I saw him. And I want to believe that I am still his friend.”

“You aren’t making any sense.”

“No,” I agreed. I briefly told her the story of my encounter with Lucas, and of Roberta’s conversations with me at the Cliffside and in the church. “I want to hear Lucas’s side of all of this before I jump to any conclusions. There’s a logical explanation for his contact with Ben.” And Andre, I added silently. “Lucas is trying to straighten out his life. He’s probably looking for a job. Ben is obviously someone who knew him in better days.”

“I understand you want to feel compassion for him,” Claire said slowly. “You’re a compassionate person. But-”

“Claire, please don’t go into a lecture about alcoholics and what a hopeless sap I’m being. I got that one from Roberta. But think about it as calmly as you can. Please just try to do that. There are so many unanswered questions about Ben-and about Lucas Monroe. You said you wanted to try to understand what happened to Ben. Did you mean it?”

She nodded, fighting tears again.

Her struggle got to me. “As I said earlier, Claire-perhaps I’m not the person you need to talk to about this. You may not want to trust my judgment on something like this.”

“No, you’re wrong. I trust you,” she said. “That’s why I came to you for help. But I’m trusting you to be fair, Irene. If you discover that Lucas Monroe is guilty of blackmailing my husband…”

“I can’t be his judge and jury. But if I find proof that he was blackmailing Ben, then I’ll admit I was wrong about him. It will be a matter for the police at that point. Are we agreed?”

“Yes.” She looked away for a moment, then said, “I have to do something anyway, don’t you see? Ben’s reputation meant everything to him. The things that are being said about him now…” Her voice trailed off.

“Look, nothing can stop that entirely. I’ll be blunt. Here in Las Piernas, Ben was too rich and too powerful to be ignored when he was alive-and he won’t be ignored in death.”

“Of course not,” she said, the numbness coming back. “So what should we do next?”

“Let’s go over what we have so far. Let’s start with the photocopy. You said there was a group of people on the boat. Did you recognize any of them?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t get to look at it, really. I might have recognized them if I had been able to catch more than a glimpse of it. I have an impression of a group of men, but that’s all. There could have been a woman in the picture. I’m not sure.”