The Cartagena Connection, page 20
“I didn’t say we’ve succeeded. I said that with Liz’s help we’re working on it...” Kate rubbed her nose, “Don’t make that fake snore. You’re not asleep, and this is important. Enjoy this bed tonight. We’re not going to be here tomorrow.”
“You’ve decided. Without talking to me. That’s just great....” Ricky was wide awake and pouting.
“The only thing I’ve decided is that we’re not going to be here tomorrow. This is an oh-so-easy very comfortable rut that I need to climb out of. Where we’re going to end up, I don’t know, but it won’t be in this house. We could go back to Connecticut. Courtesy of Anna, I have nearly seven months remaining on my lease that is all paid up. We won’t have the money we might have gotten back for canceling that lease, but it’s an option.
“We could also try to find a cheaper apartment in Connecticut, maybe one over in Stamford, close to where I’ll be interning and nearer to New York City. I could study for licenses for both the Connecticut and New York bars, but...”
“Let’s be practical. If you think New Haven apartments are expensive, just imagine what they’re like closer to NYC. I know you said you can’t stay in this house, but it’s free rent...”
“Free everything, food, clothes, transportation and a devoted second – maybe now third mother – in Maria.... Sorry, Charlie. I can’t do that...”
“You mean won’t do it...”
“OK, won’t. I have to grow up…'
“Understood. Any other options?”
“I haven’t come up with anything yet, but there must be. And don’t say, live with your mother. That’s a double, triple, quadruple won’t!” Kate reached up and turned off the light on the night table. “I’m tired. I need sleep,” her voice trailed off as she said, “Tomorrow....”
“Now I can’t sleep,” Ricky muttered as he punched his pillows and squirmed to find a better position in that big comfortable bed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saturday May 6 9:00 am
As she drove to her office on Saturday morning, Liz found herself resenting being called into work on the weekend. She wanted to pack up her kids and head for the mountains...any mountains. There, the air would be crisp and clean and the sunlight would cause the early morning dew on the aspens to sparkle. Frostburg or even Cumberland would be good, she thought. Heck, she’d settle for Frederick. Instead, here she was, locked in a traffic jam on Northern Parkway in smoggy, smelly Baltimore, with her kids parked at her mother’s.
She turned on WBAL to get an update on accidents and other slowdowns on the routes between Remington and Locust Point. She knew it wouldn’t matter. All the main streets in Baltimore were certain to be a mess. But it was a sacred tradition for Baltimoreans to get the latest traffic reports first hand from the pilots flying their helicopters over the metro area. Her father would have been proud that she listened.
She drummed her hands on the steering wheel, and watched as a Lexus jumped the curb scattering pedestrians in order to get around a bread truck that was blocking the roadway. She thought about following that driver, but rejected the idea. The way her luck was running these days, she’d be stopped by a trooper who’s cruiser was hidden in front of the bread truck waiting to pounce. Unlike many in her neighborhood she wished that Baltimore would install even more speed cameras and substantially raise the fines on those who broke the traffic laws.
Relax, meditate, she scolded herself. Getting all hot and bothered wouldn’t do any good. She might as well enjoy being responsible only to herself for a while. She might as well admit that she wasn’t all that eager to get to the campus. While she hated traffic jams, her real annoyance was with her boss – make that bosses Dave and Tom – and with her husband. Despite repeated attempts to contact any and all of these three she got no callbacks. Luis was probably sulking, and if mamacita was on the way, he could be forgiven. Maybe....
But Dave? She had no idea where Dave was or what he was planning. Angela had put this four-way session with Dave, Bruce, Patsy and herself on her calendar for 11 this morning. There had been no discussion. No notice, other than a peremptory email from the secretary that this was to take place. No apology for interrupting her weekend with her kids. Dave is treating me like – like – she couldn’t even put a name to how Dave was treating her, but it sure wasn’t as a fully qualified professional co-therapist.
She found herself getting angrier by the minute. She pulled into the Psychiatry parking lot and flashed her new gate card. The feeling of satisfaction she experienced from that small action blunted her anger. Somewhat. Feeling self-righteous she decided not to wait for the 11:00 o’clock meeting, but to beard the lion in his den right then. As she reached for the handle on the outer door of the building, she paused to reflect. Maybe it would be better to speak with Tom Roberts, if he were in his office, to get his perspective on how things were developing. He also hadn’t called her back the previous evening, but in Tom’s defense, he almost certainly had been running one of his many group sessions with drug addicts, or alcoholics, or who knows what.
Giving a finger to Dave’s door, then wincing at her childishly rude behavior, Liz bypassed Angela’s domain and headed for Tom’s office. She was pleased to see that he was alone. He offered her a seat, coffee and a sympathetic ear in that order, and she was happy to accept all three. Tom apologized for not being available the previous evening and Liz brought him up to date on the whereabouts of her children.
“So, the Irish Nana has enlisted on your side in the war with the Colombian Abuela. That would be an interesting fight to watch. My money’s on – you know, I don’t know which one my money would be on... What do you think?”
“Abuela is pretty tough, but I wouldn’t discount my mama when she gets her Irish up. I hope it doesn’t come to that. I plan to work with Luis to settle the war before a shot is fired. Both grandmothers love the boys, and both would take good care of them.” She chuckled and scratched her head. “Well, that’s true for Jackie. Sometimes I wonder if anyone including me could love my two-year old Frankie when he’s in the midst of an historic meltdown.”
She sipped he coffee. “Enough about my two brats. I’m feeling out of the loop. This morning, when I opened my email I found a message from Angela telling me that I have an eleven o’clock meeting with Dave and the Drs. Howard. Have you heard anything from the grapevine?”
“Nope. I did here that Dave and Bruce had a good meeting with Ricky yesterday. Possibly there’s been a breakthrough?”
“Now, that’s interesting.” She stood up, handed the empty coffee cup back to Tom, and snorted. “Think I should wear my emeralds?”
“Emeralds? Still carrying those around? You haven’t found a safe deposit box? I guess since you have them with you, you probably should wear them. If Will were here, he’d suggest you comb your hair and maybe put on some lip gloss.... I, of course, would never comment on your appearance, lest I be accused of being a sexist....”
“Sexist? You? Not hardly, although I could think of other choice descriptors...” She opened the door and stood in the doorway looking back at Tom. “Descriptors like great human being, wonderful friend, and --- BRAT.” Tom made a move to rise as she beat it down the hall toward Dave’s office.
“Hi Angela, is Dr. Meyers available? I received his message about a meeting at 11 today. I’d like a few minutes with him before that meeting.” Liz tapped her foot impatiently as Angela took her sweet time responding.
“Ms Maguire I sent the reminder to you. By the way, I noticed that your departmental electronic calendar is not up-to-date. It is very difficult to keep track of everyone around here when the staff won’t cooperate.”
My God, she really does run the place, Liz thought. I will NEVER keep that calendar up to date, now that I know she uses it to spy on us. “When may I see him?”
“He’s in there. Just go in.”
“Don’t you want to announce me in case he’s busy?” Now she’ll have to get up from whatever she’s finding fascinating on her computer, and do her job, thought Liz.
“No. You can go right in. He said that if I saw you before 9:30 he’d like to speak with you.”
Liz smiled sweetly, even though she was trying hard to control her temper. “Thank you.”
Hearing voices, Dave came to his door. “Liz, come in, come in. I’m so glad Angela was able to find you. I thought we might benefit from having a few minutes to catch up before Bruce and Patsy arrive.”
Liz glanced back at a completely unrepentant Angela, then winked at Dave. He knew as well as she did that his secretary had ignored his instructions. She was willing to bet that Dave didn’t get her phone messages either. Such is life in the crazy psychiatry department, she thought. Some days it’s hard to tell the zookeepers from the animals.
“I’m so glad you were able to find a few minutes for me this morning.” She paused considering whether to mention the many messages she’d left for him. Deciding against, she continued, “I wanted to bring you up to date on my Thursday afternoon session with Kate and Patsy, and to learn what the police have been willing to share about our murder.”
“Bruce called me yesterday morning to say that he’d had a long conversation with Patsy Thursday evening. It seems she was delighted with the session and couldn’t stop talking about it. Bruce felt that Patsy was now ready to back off trying to run Kate’s life. He viewed that as getting rid of one major stressor that had had the Howards hurtling toward divorce.” Dave leaned back in his chair, stroked his beard and stared directly at Liz.
“Does that mean you and I are no longer needed as clinical referees?” Liz smiled. “Do we still get Bruce’s furniture? More to the point, do I still keep my parking space?”
“Parking, parking. I get so goddam sick of battles over parking. I keep telling the complainers that we have to keep our eyes on the prize. If we get a new building, we’ll get more parking!”
“There HAVE been complainers that you are favoring very junior me over our much senior colleagues. It was just as I predicted. You need to know that I’m not giving back my parking pass. I have to get something out of all this craziness...”
“You can keep the goddam pass.”
“Wow. The Psychiatry chair who never loses his temper is now reduced to swearing. Things getting you down,” she teased?
“As the old saying goes, ‘I’ve been down so long it looks like up to me!”
“Tell me about it.” Liz looked ruefully at her bitten nails. “That was a serious request. PLEASE tell me about it. What the hell is going on here. Do you know what the police are thinking? Have they officially termed Anna’s death a murder?”
“I don’t have anything official. My source is Tom Roberts; he’s pretty tied in. Get him to fill you in on all the details – what’s theoretical and what’s factual – but as I understand it, Anna was certainly murdered. The police have been cagy, but Tom said Anna had several wounds, including some post mortem. What everyone is admitting is that the body was moved. She wasn’t killed where she was found.”
“Do they know where she was killed? Anything on time of death?”
“That stuff Tom doesn’t know. Also, he says he doesn’t know why her body was brought to the alley behind our building. Why’d the killer or killers choose that place? As far as time of death, there are a couple of theories. Earliest would be Tuesday night soon after she left Bruce’s cocktail party. That would mean she was dead well before her car was located. Latest, your guess is as good as mine. Obviously sometime before seven Friday morning. That’s about when her body was found.”
“Shouldn’t the medical examiner be able to narrow that down? I’m going on what I learned from watching CSI reruns, but don’t they do things with body temperature? Or decomposition? Or, good God, maggot infestation?”
Dave through up his hands. “I think you’re right. I guess we’ll have to wait until Tom learns something more. Oh, I almost forgot. Do you remember the rumor that the FBI is somehow involved? That maybe they were called in because Anna was the wife of a federal judge?”
“Yes, now that you mention it. Any truth to that?”
“FBI, DEA, CIA and even the Colombian Embassy have all been involved. But not because she’s the spouse of a federal judge. It seems that Miss Anna has long been suspected of drug dealing. This dates back to before she ever met Judge Murphy.”
“Wow. Now to get back to the session we’re supposed to be conducting. How much, if any, of this are we going to share with the Drs. Howard?”
“That’s the thing. You may have heard that following on your very successful session with Kate and Patsy, Bruce, Ricky and I met yesterday afternoon. Brendan also showed up. Same unstructured agenda as your group followed. Aim on my part was to have Bruce view Kate as a grown-up with the right to make her own decisions, Ricky was her choice and he and Patsy should keep out of it. When Bruce called me, I suggested that he have a simple – by which I meant not the University Club – lunch with Ricky before they come here.
“Bruce and Ricky went to a tavern in Waverly and met up with Brendan, supposedly by accident. The place was buzzing about the murder. According to Bruce, everyone in the tavern had opinions – some of them hilarious.”
“That’s old-time Baltimore for you...”
“When they got over here, all was sweetness and light between Bruce and Ricky, with Brendan putting in his two cents from time to time. We tossed around a few theories about the murder – I think we’d all like it to be a drug deal gone wrong. Ricky did go briefly into financial challenges which he blamed on Anna, and he wondered whether Kate could get any money back from Anna’s estate. He admitted that he and Kate needed this to happen pretty quickly. So that’s where we are. Do you feel up to speed? I hope so, because they’re due here in about fifteen minutes.”
“It’s only 9:45. I thought they were coming at 11. I’m starving. My kids are staying with my mother, by the way, so I didn’t bother fixing breakfast. Just grabbed a handful of Cheerios.”
“They’ll be here at 10. Kate and Patsy have a luncheon scheduled for later today. Patsy wants to introduce Kate to some of her cronies. Angela should have warned you.”
“Angela’s email said 11, but that’s neither here nor there. Damn. If this were Bruce’s building, we’d have a lovely cafe in the basement. Here we’ve got Macke machines that are probably empty by now.”
Dave had already picked up his phone. “I’m calling Tom. I bet he can feed you.”
“Not again. He already gave me a cup of truly excellent coffee this morning.” She wriggled in her chair, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I’m always throwing myself on his good nature. Can we ask him to stay for the session? He’d really be helpful, especially since I know the Howards and company will want to talk about the murder.”
“The more the merrier. Here’s Tom bearing gifts. You’d better eat quickly. I know from experience that even though he’s skinny as a rail, Bruce is always hungry. And he has the table manners of a goat. He’ll scarf up any edibles that are within arm’s reach, no matter whose plate they’re on.”
Saturday May 6 10:00 am
Considering the brouhaha that had erupted when the four had met earlier in the week, this session went better than Liz’s fondest hopes. No raised voices, and no skirting the issues. Patsy and Bruce solemnly pledged to stay out of Kate’s and Ricky’s life and to respect whatever decisions the younger pair made.
That said, Patsy couldn’t quite bring herself to avoid giving advice on the financial stresses facing the honeymooners. Bruce couldn’t quite avoid bringing up advantages and disadvantages of various bar exams. Dave played Yoda, adroitly changing the subject whenever things seemed to be getting a bit tense.
Liz and Tom mostly stayed on the sidelines, until the group got around to discussing Anna’s murder. Dave introduced Tom as the expert on all police matters. They kicked around various theories – Liz’s favorite was Bruce’s declaring that the reason that Anna’s body was found near the psychiatry building was clearly part of Dave’s elaborate plot to steal space from the surgery department.
Liz had rolled her eyes at that and said she, for one, wouldn’t put it past the good (and ambitious) Dr. Meyers.
Tom, who almost certainly knew or deduced more than he was letting on, said almost nothing throughout much of the discussion, not even laughing when Bruce teased Dave. Patsy alternated between solemnity and high spirits.
The meeting ended when Kate reminded her aunt that they were expected for lunch at the Hilton. Liz and Tom escaped to ‘see other clients’ and Bruce and Dave strolled arm in arm over to the University Club.
The session ended in what Liz had felt to be the longest week in her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday, May 6 1:15 pm
After what had seemed to Liz to be a ridiculously extended analysis of lunchtime options, the two Jews, Bruce and Dave, left for a Syrian restaurant in the Four Seasons Hotel over in Fells Point, across the harbor from Bethsaida. According to Bruce the restaurant had terrific falafel and its baba ghanoush was to die for. “I hope it’s kosher,” Tom murmured sotto voce to Liz.
“Hope they don’t get killed on the way,” said Liz. “Dave’s driving. Our mild-mannered leader becomes a total maniac behind the wheel.”
Liz and Tom looked at one another. “May I buy you lunch,” Tom asked? “I know a modest little cafe nearby with incredible Afghan cuisine...Their lavash sends one into raptures and their borani barjoh – well just say it’s the best on the planet.”
“Do you even know what those are? I don’t, and NO you can’t buy me lunch. You’ve already provided me with breakfast. I’m treating!” She glanced at her oversized tote bag and remembered that she hadn’t been to the bank and was probably overdrawn or close to on her Mastercard. “I’m afraid it’ll have to be quick. I have clients...”
