Part 6 (1/2)
”DeeEss, he calls himself these days. He was a nice middle-cla.s.s boy for a while, Jack and Jill, the whole bit, but he's definitely taken a turn in another direction. Cecil's influence, I'm sad to say. The kid's world blew apart when Annette fell in love with Celia. If you ask me, what she did was pretty d.a.m.ned selfish.”
”But you never know what is really really going on in a marriage,” I said, speaking as much from experience as anything else. When I'd been married to DeWayne Curtis, I'd done so much smiling through tears my jaws got cramped. going on in a marriage,” I said, speaking as much from experience as anything else. When I'd been married to DeWayne Curtis, I'd done so much smiling through tears my jaws got cramped.
He nodded, agreeing with me. ”Yeah, but I would have fought her for the kid. Annette and Drew had what they call a traditional marriage. Drew made the money, ran the business, and she took care of the house, raised the kid, so it was natural the boy would go with her when she left. He and his father weren't all that close, although Drew loves that boy with all his heart. It was strange, though, what happened. Annette always seemed pretty happy to me,” he said, then added a moment later in retrospect, ”according to Drew anyway. He blamed Celia for corrupting her, as he put it.”
”So he blamed Celia for losing his wife and son?”
”That's what he's always said. I've tried to explain to him that he couldn't blame Celia for something like that, but he insisted that she's to blame.”
When I heard that, Drew Sampson's name went in red to the top of my most-likely-suspects list.
”It seems to me that Sampson's sense of what was going on in his wife's head was about as clear as a smoky day in h.e.l.l. Did Annette have a job? She must have done something when she wasn't ironing, cooking, and cleaning his house.”
Larry looked embarra.s.sed, and I was amused again about how little the average man knows about the inner life of the average woman. Annette as ”person” outside of ”wife and mother” had completely escaped him. It took him a moment to come up with something.
”Come to think about it, Annette was an aspiring artist. She was very involved with the Newark Museum for a while, and one of her paintings was in a group show at a gallery for emerging artists. That was a couple of years ago, though. Look, Tamara, maybe you'd better talk to Drew and Annette about their business. If they'll talk to you.”
”I suspect Drew's number is unlisted. Do you have a number for him?”
He looked so uncomfortable, I didn't pursue it, but asked instead, ”So did you you introduce Annette to Celia?” introduce Annette to Celia?”
”Me? No. I was as surprised as Drew when she upped and left with Celia. Celia had mentioned she was involved in a new relations.h.i.+p that was going to be good for her, but she didn't say who it was with. She never mentioned names.”
'And you were still seeing her at that point?”
He hesitated before he answered; his expression revealed that he wasn't sure if this was any of my business. I stared him down, as if I had a perfect right to know.
”Tamara, I think you should understand that my relations.h.i.+p with Celia took place a number of years before she was murdered. I looked out for her kid as much as I could, talked to her when she needed somebody to talk to, but I realized early on that I needed more from a woman than Celia was willing to give.” He smiled sadly and shook his head. ”I suspect Celia had quite a few relations.h.i.+ps between the time that we were intimate and when she got involved with Annette Sampson.”
I made a point of picking up my cup and drinking the last bit of coffee as I tried to decide the best way to phrase my last question, the one I was sure would end our conversation, probably on a bad note.
”So, uh, did the cops talk to you when Celia was murdered?” I looked him in the eye, trying to spot any truth he was hiding.
He looked genuinely puzzled. ”Me? No. Like I said, my thing with Celia happened three years ago. Are you asking me if I killed Celia?”
”Well, uh, I'm trying to figure out how good a job the cops did, who they talked to, what leads ...” I sputtered on, a phony smile fixed on my lips. Larry rescued me from myself.
”Well, Tamara, here's the answer to the question you're not comfortable asking. I was visiting my daughter in North Carolina the day of Celia's death. I read about it in the paper the next day like everybody else. Here's Marva's number so you can check out my alibi.” He jotted down his wife's telephone number on a napkin and pushed it across the table toward me. 'As for Cecil, I was down in DC doing a deal with a guy who sold me a fleet of cars, one of which I sold you. I don't have his number, but it's in my office. I'll leave it on your machine so you'll have that, too. The police didn't ask about my whereabouts when Celia was killed because I'm not a suspect, and I never have been. I'm amazed that you could possibly think that I could have something to do with that poor woman's death.”
And with that, he paid the bill and left.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
The memory of the kid hit me the moment I walked into my office the next morning. It had been only a week since he'd been sitting here with his tough little self, Celia's ghost trailing right behind him. I snapped on my computer, determined to put them out of my mind and do something constructive. By the time the screen lit up, I couldn't think of squat to write, so I went through my usual procrastination-made some tea, watered the orphan aloe, gazed out my dirty window. the moment I walked into my office the next morning. It had been only a week since he'd been sitting here with his tough little self, Celia's ghost trailing right behind him. I snapped on my computer, determined to put them out of my mind and do something constructive. By the time the screen lit up, I couldn't think of squat to write, so I went through my usual procrastination-made some tea, watered the orphan aloe, gazed out my dirty window.
I thought about Larry Walton and checked for a message with the telephone number of the car dealer in DC, but he hadn't bothered to leave it. Chances were his alibi would have checked out anyway or he wouldn't have mentioned it. I called Cosey Jake's contact about the job, and told him I was interested. He hired me on the spot, explaining that I'd have to start the following Monday, which was fine with me. I remembered that Jake had scribbled the number of the detective on an envelope and searched through my Kenya bag for it, then cursed out loud when I realized I'd left it on my kitchen table. I considered calling him to get it, then admitted to myself that it would simply be a ruse to talk to him and waste more time.
When the phone rang, I answered it on the first ring.
”Ms. Tamara Hayle? Rebecca Donovan here, returning your call. My answering service said you called on Friday, and I wanted to get back to you.” She sounded efficient, like a woman who didn't like to waste your time and expected the same courtesy from you. I was tempted to ask her about her hoity-toity answering service but changed my mind. It was best to get right to the point.
”Oh, yes. Ms. Donovan. Thank you so much for calling me back.” I tucked the phone between my shoulder and chin and grabbed my notebook and pen. ”I was calling about Celia Jones.”
”Celia Jones?” She paused and sounded puzzled, as if trying to place the name, then added, ”Celia Jones is dead. I believe she died in January. There's absolutely nothing I can tell you.”
The note of dismissal in her voice told me she was preparing to hang up so I quickly added, ”Yes, I'm aware of her death, but I've been hired to look into her murder.”
She gave a slight, well-mannered gasp. ”Someone actually hired you to look into that woman's death? I can't imagine who would do that. I a.s.sumed that the police were investigating it. Isn't the trail cold by now?”
”It's hot again. The murder of her son warmed it up.” I sounded more sure than I was. I couldn't gauge the effect of my bravado, but it brought a momentary pause, after which she said, ”Well, I'll certainly help you in any way that I can.”
”Thank you for your cooperation. So how did you and Celia meet?”
”I was a volunteer at a women's shelter. Celia was a person trapped in a rat's hole of a life, and my heart went out to her. As a child, I was taught to always help people in need, that it was the right thing to do, so I offered her as much aid as I could. I'm afraid, though, she needed far more than I was able to give. I was, however, able to help her get away from the father of her son.”
”You're referring to Brent Liston?”
”Yes.”
”How did you help her get away from him?”
There was silence, then a sigh. ”Through my husband, Clayton. I'm the widow of the Honorable Clayton Donovan. He pa.s.sed away last August. Very suddenly.”
”Oh yes, I was sorry to hear that.”
Another sigh. ”There's not much else I can tell you.” She cleared her throat. ”If my husband were still alive, he might be able to be of help but-”
”Do you know Drew Sampson?”
A long pause. ”What does any of this have to do with Drew?”
”He was involved with Celia.”
”I think you'd better check your notes, Ms. Hayle.” The nasty tone of her response surprised me; it seemed out of character.
”I have good reason to think otherwise. Do you happen to have a telephone number for him?”
A longer pause. ”No. Is there anything else that I can help you with?”
”I'd like to talk to you again if I could.”
My instincts told me she knew more than she was saying. It's always best to conduct an interview in person. If you know what to look for, only the best liar is able to conceal the truth. The gesture of a hand, the avoidance of eye contact, her posture in a chair, will give her away. You can find out more in ten minutes when you sit across from somebody than in ten hours on the phone.
”Well, I don't think that will be possible. I-”
”Please, Mrs. Donovan. The police are planning to open up the investigation again. I used to be in the department, and we Pis often share information with the authorities. With the cutbacks in the police force, it saves time and manpower. I suspect you might be more comfortable talking to me than to them.”