John A Lenahan - Ice Lake

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Beer, please.”

MK fished a beer out of the floating cooler, twisted off the cap and handed it to Harry who again almost fell in.

“Easy there, fella.”

MK pointed to the floater next to her. She was an attractive woman in her fifties with black hair peppered through with grey. “This is my biggest sister, Eileen, and this,” she said pointing to the other woman, who looked a lot like MK except for the eyes, “is my next big sister, Vicky. Harry, these are the Keller girls.”

“Ladies,” Harry said, tipping an imaginary hat.

“So, you’re the new man next door?” Eileen said, eyeing Harry as if he was for sale. “You’ll do. How long you up fur?”

“Don’t know, really.”

“Harry’s a cop. He’s investigating the shooting,” MK said.

“I’m not a cop.”

“OK, but you’re like a cop. You’re doing cop stuff with Ed.”

“I never said that.”

“Oh, give me a break, Harry. This is like the first murder in forever. Ed doesn’t have time at the moment to take you to lunch for old times’ sake – you must be working on Big Bill’s murder.”

“I guess I must be. So, did you do it?”

MK laughed. “A floating interrogation? This must be a first.”

“I find if my suspects are in bathing suits then they often have little to hide.”

“Well in that case,” Vicky said suggestively, “I guess you would prefer if we were skinny floating.”

“Since this is my first float I think we had better keep our accoutrements on.”

“‘Accoutrements’,” Eileen sang. “MK, he’s a fancy one.”

“So, who do you think killed Big Bill?”

“Oh, don’t ask Eileen,” Vicky said, “she’ll just blame it on Frank.”

“Frank Thomson?” Harry turned to Eileen. “You think his brother shot him?”

“If there is evil in the world,” Eileen said, while somehow producing a dry cigarette and lighting it with a Zippo, “then Frank is involved.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” MK said. “Frank’s her ex. She’ll probably blame him for 9/11 if you ask.”

“I didn’t see him on that day. Did any of you?”

“Any other suspects you can think of?” Harry asked.

“How about Vicky?” Eileen said. “She used to sleep with him.”

“Shut up,” Vicky squealed, splashing her sister and extinguishing her cigarette.

This instigated a splashing session that threatened to once again capsize the only male of the group.

“You slept with all of the Thomson boys, didn’t you?” MK added.

“You shut up too. I never slept with Frank – yuck.”

“Stop, stop,” Harry pleaded. “Hold on – is there another Thomson boy?”

“Yeah, Jonny, he was the youngest.”

“Was?”

“Car accident – you know the purple hitch-hiker?”

Harry nodded.

“He was the driver that took the arm off.”

“Shame,” Vicky said. “He was a good kid. So was Big Bill. They were both just a bit wild – and that’s no lie – like they was raised by wolves. And we know they weren’t; they grew up next door to us.”

“Where was that?”

“Right here. You’re renting the old Thomson house. Frank’s your landlord. Didn’t you know that?”

“Ah no, I didn’t.”

“Well I’m goin’ in,” Eileen said. “Thanks to Vic’ I don’t have any dry ciggies.”

“Yeah I gotta go too. It’s clam night at the Hillside.”

“Who ya meeting?” MK asked as her sisters untied themselves from the anchor line.

“What makes you think I’m meeting anybody?” Vicky said.

“’Cause you’re you.”

The sisters produced little oars just like the one Helen had and paddled back to shore as they sing-sang in unison, “Have fun, MK.”

“So that’s the Keller Sisters?”

“We’re infamous in five states.”

“I can see why.”

“You want another beer?”

The sun was getting low in the sky and didn’t have the heat that Harry would have preferred, but the lake was so beautiful and the company so delightful, he had to say yes.

“So, do you have any theories on who killed him?”

“Oh, my god,” MK said, “this really is an interrogation.”

“No, well, sorry. It’s just I like your company and I’ll have to ask you sooner or later, so I thought I’d get it out of the way now.”

“Should I have a lawyer present?”

“Does your lawyer float?”

“Yeah that is a problem. To answer your question, no. Frank is a mean asshole but a killer – naaah.”

Harry took a swig of his beer, breathed in the pine-scented breeze and watched the sun dance on the rippling water. “You ever get tired of this?”

“No, that’s the magic of the place. It stays pretty wonderful. Sure, when I was a teenager, maybe, but that was when I hated everything. Once my brain started working again I saw this place for what it was.”

“A little corner of paradise,” Harry finished then added, “and that’s no lie.”

* * *

Back on shore MK asked Harry if he wanted to get clams at the Hillside but Harry confessed that Trooper Cirba and he had a date. He counter-proposed that if MK provided the charcoal he’d barbeque. MK offered her gas grill and Harry prepared a feast of burgers and potato chips.

MK took a bite of her cheeseburger and had to lean in over the picnic table to stop ketchup from falling down her front. She wiped her chin with a paper towel and said: “I’m not going to sleep with you, you know.”

Harry choked a little bit on his burger and had to swig some beer before he could reply. “Ah, OK.”

“Well, since you wanted to get the interrogation thing out of the way I thought I would just get that clear.”

“Right well, thank you, I think. Once again – was it something I said?”

“Oh, don’t take it personally, I just don’t sleep with renters. One of my rules.”

“It’s just as well, the bed in my room is unbelievably squeaky.”

“I know.”

“And how do you know that?”

“My sister, Vicky, has no problems sleeping with renters.” MK looked sideways at Harry and smiled. “You still have time to get to the Hillside for clam night.”

“Thank you but no. I’m very happy with the company right here.”

They clinked beer bottles.

“So is there a Mrs Cull?”

“Who is interrogating who? Should we get back out on the inflatables?”

“It’s just that now you know you have no chance with me, you can tell the truth.”

“Sounds logical. The answer is no.”

“An ex Mrs Cull?”

“Ah… yes.”

“And any little Cullettes?”

Harry paused and had to look away for a moment before answering, “No.”

“So what happened?”

Harry blew out a long sigh and said: “I didn’t live up to her expectations.”

“You cheated on her?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re a man; it’s the law of probability.”

“No, I didn’t cheat on her. I – I don’t do that.”

“A man that doesn’t cheat. That makes you a rare breed.”

“It’s not that I don’t cheat… it’s more basic than that. I don’t lie. Or at least I try not to… at least Monday to Friday.”

“You only lie weekends?”

“Yes, and only to strangers.”

MK put down her burger and leaned in looking straight into Harry’s eyes. “You’re serious?”

“I am. Dealing with lies is my job. I’ve seen how much misery it brings to people so I just don’t do it.”

“So you never lie?”

“That is my goal.”

“So what if I asked you if my butt looked big in this outfit.”

“I’d probably say something like, ‘I think you would look good even if you wore a plastic garbage bag’.”