Allan Retzky - Vanished in the Dunes

Amos Posner has been cleared of any involvement in Heidi’s death. It was never an issue. Wisdom spoke to Posner on the phone the previous day. While still distraught, he seems to be regaining some sense of emotional control. He projects guilt about the loss of his wife that initially puzzles Wisdom, until he realizes he knows nothing of their relationship and its hidden crevices. Posner did seem genuinely pleased when Wisdom tells him that both he and Bennett will be at the forthcoming funeral service, which can now occur with the release of his wife’s body.

Posner says he plans on selling the house as soon as possible and will, at some future date, be moving to northern California, as he and his wife had planned. Tomorrow he plans to come back to Amagansett from the city, where he’s been living, to go through his personal items. It is not a task Wisdom envies. Posner babbles on randomly for several minutes, but Wisdom lets him speak without interruption. At one point, Posner breaks into what Wisdom would only later describe as an ironic laugh, when he says he has heard from his lawyer that the Justice Department is dropping all of its inquiries into some past activities. Referring to his lawyer’s call, Posner keeps repeating the phrase, “This means I’m innocent,” over and over. Wisdom later thinks Posner might have referred to more than his federal issues, but he will never be sure. In retrospect Posner almost reminds him of one of those tragic figures in literature he studied in college. The poor son of a bitch inadvertently created his own mess by the simple act of speaking to a woman on a public bus. Unbelievable!

At three minutes to the hour his phone rings. Herr Weis calls from the car that they are there and parked outside headquarters.

“I’ll be right out,” Wisdom replies.

He would not think of having Brigid try to walk one extra step with a broken bone in her foot. The fall she took at the overlook could have done more damage, but she will still need a cast and crutches for another month at least. On the phone he’s tried to persuade her to stay on here to recuperate, but his suggestion was, at best, halfhearted. He knows she’ll never be able to fully relax as long as she wakes every morning to the sights and smells of the same air her sister breathed before she died, to say nothing of what she herself has gone through. She has given all the necessary depositions. She might be recalled for a trial, but the county attorney doubts it will be necessary. She dismisses the fact that she has a little time left on her lease.

No. It’s best for her to be on her way. It’s also best for him. He admits he went through a period of temptation that tested his own fidelity, or innocence in a way. He passed it once, but admits that he doesn’t fully trust himself to keep passing. No. Best that she doesn’t stay.

The car is a black Mercedes limo. How opulent, he thinks as he approaches, then mentally reprimands himself. She does have a broken foot and the limo has far more leg room.

Within her diplomatic community, she has also become somewhat of a celebrity. Weis approaches and extends a hand. Wisdom takes it and can’t help noticing that Weis wears a suit conspicuously like the one he wore at their first meeting a few months ago; a dark well-tailored charcoal-gray with a creamy white shirt and a matching dark tie. His shoes are polished black and shine like new glass. Maybe the man only has one set of clothes he thinks and smiles at the absurdity of the idea. Weis just seems to accept the smile as an example of traditional American friendliness.

“The driver and I will be over there,” Weis says pointing to a spot some fifty feet away.

The air is cool, but the sun pours enough heat through a clear sky, so neither Weis nor his driver need coats.

As Wisdom nears the car he sees that the rear limo door is slightly ajar. He pulls it fully open. She’s leaning back on one end of the seat with one leg propped across its length. A small cast encases her foot. She’s dressed much like when they first met, a dark suit jacket with matching pants and a simple white blouse buttoned to the neck. He notices and compliments her on a cameo pin that rests on her jacket lapel.

“Oh. This is new. I bought it at a shop in Sag Harbor yesterday. One good thing to remind me of this trip, excluding you and your colleagues, of course.”

Wisdom notices she emphasizes you and smiles.

“Please step in, if you don’t mind. There’s room to sit on your end of the seat.”

“Thank you.” He moves in and sits while avoiding the crutches on the floor.

“How’s the foot?”

“Getting better. I shouldn’t have too much problem after a few more weeks.”

“You must be happy to be going back home.”

“Well, I’m happy that all this is over and we know what happened to Heidi. I’m sorry this mess cost the life of Mr. Posner’s wife and basically destroyed his life and that of Dr. Stern.”

“You were very brave when it came to Stern.”

“Not really. Maybe at first, but then I realized he was no more than a frightened young man. Once that sunk in, I no longer felt in danger. Will he go to prison?”

Wisdom tries to avoid any opinion, however obvious the answer might be. It’s the way he was trained.

“That depends on all of his psychiatric exams, but I’d say that one way or another he’ll be incarcerated for some time.”

“He didn’t really want to kill anyone, you know. It was all what the English call ‘bluster.’”

“That may be true. Someday, maybe a jury will decide.” As he speaks he realizes she’s only thinking about Sara Posner, and not her sister.

“If there’s ever a trial, I’d like to come back and speak in his defense.”

“But he kidnapped you. Then threatened to rape and kill you.”

“But he didn’t. That’s the important thing. Don’t you think?”

Wisdom doesn’t answer. He has no answer. The question is too moral in these circumstances and certainly too bizarre. All he can do is shrug his shoulders. Stern is a man who kidnapped and threatened a woman, most probably killed her sister, and then killed an innocent woman bystander and who now gains sympathy from the kidnap victim. No. He has no answer that makes any sense.

“Will you tell your parents?”

“No. It will only cause confusion and more grief. For them she died some time ago. It’s best to leave it that way.”

That’s when he tells her about his conversation with the rabbi in Brooklyn and Heidi’s volunteer work. He can’t let that bit of insight stay hidden. Brigid shakes her head in wonderment, yet says nothing at first.

“Maybe she was trying to somehow redeem herself,” adds Wisdom, who’s still not sure whether raising the issue is worth it.

“Perhaps you’re right, but there could be other reasons as well. For my family and me it’s still too little and too late as you say here. Still, thank you for telling me. Maybe some part of Heidi was better than we ever thought. I hope so.”

For a moment Wisdom thinks she might cry, but Brigid is tough to the end. Maybe in private, he thinks, but not in front of another person, especially a man. There doesn’t seem much more to say. She beckons him to come closer, then leans forward, kisses him on the cheek, and makes it seems like the most natural thing in the world. Her mouth lingers for a fraction long enough for him to inhale some scent. Then she pulls back.

“Go home and take care of your wife and children.”

He has only the one son, but doesn’t correct her. He smiles at the thought that with woman’s intuition maybe she knows more than he does.

“Is something funny?”

“No. I’m just happy you don’t blame me for putting you in possible danger.”