- •I dumped a can of cat food into her bowl, then stumbled toward the bathroom, her official feeding ground. Needless to say, there was a nearly full bowl of food already there.
- •I pulled up my pants leg, fully exposing the scar. Only then did Joanne drop her hand.
- •I looked into my coffee cup, but no answers were there. “Yes,” I finally said.
- •I looked them over. Danny was right, well, not quite. “Danny said you were hot. She didn’t say molten,” I let out.
- •I bowed to her as the first soft notes of the music began, then her hand was in mine and my arm around her waist.
- •I laughed, caught happily by her confidence in me and the lift of the music.
- •I walked with them, still puzzling about Cordelia’s toast.
- •I waved it away. I was unnerved by Cordelia standing so close.
- •I didn’t really mean to, but she was standing over me, with that damned slit halfway up her thigh. From my floor perspective I could see way beyond thigh level. So I looked. And she caught me looking.
- •I heard voices from the lawn.
- •I shuddered at the common horror of it. “Can you find out?” I wanted to know this women’s fate, the final details. Knowing, no matter how brutal, would be better than imagining.
- •It doesn’t count, Alex, I silently said to the disappearing car. This morning doesn’t count. It wasn’t a rough act of passion, adultery, if you will. It was the only way to stop my hands from shaking.
- •I gave up on reading, not feeling much wiser.
- •I nodded. Nuns lied, I was sure, but only if they thought they were doing it for God.
- •I stood up and extended a hand.
- •I nodded my head, remembering some of the older nuns I had met. I wondered why Sister Ann had decided to answer my questions.
- •I nodded. I would ask Bernie about it.
- •I remembered the letter from the ones Cordelia had shown me. It was to Peterson, r.N., and commented on her insatiable sexual appetite, accusing her of sleeping with a different man every night.
- •I gave her directions, glad that she was interested.
- •I nodded.
- •I wanted to get up and hit him. He was good. But only if you were on his side.
- •I stood up. Joanne walked over to Cordelia and put her hand on Cordelia’s shoulder.
- •I was awakened a few bare hours later by the phone ringing. Joanne answered it.
- •I stuck my head out to observe, but didn’t move to interfere. Millie could probably handle him better than I could. Another figure in white came up behind him.
- •I got up, motioning Cordelia to her chair. I perched on a window sill behind her, looking protectively over her shoulder. She needed to be sitting for what o’Connor was going to tell her.
- •I finally turned from the window when all the footsteps had ceased echoing in the hallway.
- •I suddenly felt tired, letting myself lean against my car, enervated by the day. I didn’t feel up to parading around Danny’s house with Alex there, pretending I wasn’t sleeping with Joanne.
- •I got in my car. Joanne appeared at my window, leaning on the door.
- •I fell back asleep.
- •I headed for the clinic. Since it was Thursday they had evening hours. Cordelia should still be there, I told myself as I turned into the parking lot.
- •I sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping my clothes on.
- •I borrowed a note pad from Bernie, on which I made up a list of probable license plate numbers.
- •I draped my arm across her shoulders. “Alex, if Joanne is insane enough to throw you over for me, then she’s too crazy for me to want to be with.”
- •I shrugged. I didn’t care to tell Aunt Greta anything about Cordelia.
- •I wondered why Cordelia, as upset as she was with me, had chosen to tangle with my Aunt Greta.
- •I caught sight of Cordelia over Emma’s shoulder. She’d obviously heard the last part of our conversation. Her face was somber.
- •I stood, brushed off my knees, and without saying anything, let myself out of her office.
- •I heard the door open behind me.
- •I looked at Elly, wondering what she wanted from me.
- •I didn’t reply, knowing that he wanted me to ask.
- •I stood still, taut, sampling the air.
- •I entered Cordelia’s office, aware of o’Connor’s eyes on my back. I paced as I waited for her, unable to be still. About a minute later, she entered.
- •I walked out first, followed by Cordelia, then o’Connor. I wanted to protect her, at least deflect the staring gazes.
- •I was hearing a confession, I realized.
- •I sat, trying to read Dante, and waited for the phone to ring.
- •I waited while Bernie turned off the lights and locked up. It was after six.
- •I savored the forbidden bourbon I found in her mouth, thrusting my tongue deeply inside to find the hard taste of it.
- •I got in bed. She stood, watching me, then swung a leg over me, sitting astride my stomach.
- •I lay still, rigid, as her fingers moved in me, trying to feel as little as possible. I knew that somewhere there was a Joanne who would be appalled at what she was doing.
- •I rolled over to her side of the bed, then sat up. I reached out my hand to her.
- •I had to look away from her before I could answer. “Yes. Yes, he did.”
- •I instinctively tightened my arms about her, holding her close.
- •I nodded and he continued.
- •It was my turn to look at Sister Ann oddly. “Besides,” I continued, “I doubt Cordelia prefers the company of women.” I didn’t think she would like me coming out for her, particularly to a nun.
- •I nodded, suddenly wondering what it had been like for Cordelia to struggle against what everyone thought she should be, those generations of expectations.
- •I’d supped and showered and was sitting reading when the phone rang. About time, I thought, wondering which of my long-absent friends had finally remembered my existence.
- •I just let her cry. As she had no words for my pain, I found none for hers.
- •I was caught for a moment, looking into her eyes, then I had to glance away. My stomach had just done a very complicated somersault and I didn’t want her noticing.
- •I sat on the side of Elly’s chair and put my arm around her shoulders. “You want to do some forgettable things?”
- •If this was what morality and celibacy did for you, I was glad I had done such a good job of avoiding them both.
- •I jerked against my bonds, more in fury than in any real hope that they would come undone. He calmly ignored my struggling. Even if I got loose, I wasn’t likely to get past him to freedom.
- •I jerked and pulled at the ropes holding me, unable to stay still and let the horror of my death sink in.
- •I galloped across the parking lot as he got out of his car.
- •I did as I was told. The door opened. Cordelia stepped in.
- •I took off my jacket and gun and put them on a chair. Then I stood still, waiting for her to move. I realized I needed her to want me enough to come to me.
- •I stared at Cordelia, “How did you…?”
- •I moaned softly as she covered me.
- •I kissed her again. Thoroughly.
- •I defiantly kept my hand where it was.
- •I knew she didn’t expect an answer, but I gave her one anyway.
- •I nodded. I knew that.
- •I stared at her, completely nonplused.
- •I was still unable to look at Danny. Or Elly. I turned away, leaning onto the counter.
- •I noticed that Danny had wet streaks down her cheeks.
- •I looked at this pink-faced man in a wheelchair, wondering how he was going to kill me. Then I glanced around, sure Frankenstein was going to emerge from one of the doors in the hallway.
- •I extended a hand to help her up.
- •I started to turn to her, but Bernie edged between Elly and Millie.
- •I stared at him. He could have said, “She was my second grade guppy,” for all the remorse in his voice. “Your girlfriend?” I shot back incredulously. “Did you plant her in the clinic?”
- •I roughly pulled him up. “I’ll tell you what went wrong. Betty really was pro-life. She started asking questions. And she realized your answers weren’t her answers.”
- •I gave her an as-delicate-as-possible version of my meeting with Randall Sarafin.
- •I looked at her. Nuns weren’t supposed to approve of lesbians.
- •I shrugged. It was too hot to get into all this.
- •I stopped, taking a drink of the unlabeled juice.
- •I nodded yes.
- •I made an angry gesture.
- •I didn’t tell anyone. I knew they wouldn’t understand or approve.
- •I nodded agreement. I could think of several encounters I would have enjoyed more had I been eating oyster dressing instead of a woman.
- •It was, Joanne said, an ugly conjunction of hatreds.
I was awakened a few bare hours later by the phone ringing. Joanne answered it.
“I know…Yes, I was there,” she confirmed to someone. “Uh-huh…she was with me. We’d gone out to dinner together.” Then a pause. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know something…Alex, she’s my friend, too…Sorry, I’m tired…That’s okay, I needed to get up…Yeah…I’ll call you. As soon as I know something. Bye.”
She hung up.
“Bad news travels quickly,” I said propping myself up on one elbow.
“I guess,” she replied, lying back down. “God, I’m tired.”
Her alarm clock went off.
“Sorry. No rest for the weary,” I said.
Joanne got out of bed.
“I’ve got to keep moving or I’ll never be awake by the time I get to work.”
I slowly swung my legs out of bed.
“Me, too,” I mumbled, still sleepy.
“You can sleep in,” she offered.
“I want to go to the clinic. Tell Cordelia to shut up if she starts trying to be too nice a Southern girl and helping those poor hardworking policemen.”
“Good idea,” Joanne agreed as she headed off to the bathroom.
I forced myself to do some stretches. Anything to keep my body moving. I finally woke up, not from the exercises but from remembering what had happened last night.
I was dressed when Joanne came out of the bathroom.
At my request, she dropped me off at a bus stop. I wanted to go back to my place and get my car. And change my clothes. I didn’t want Cordelia seeing me in the same things I had worn yesterday. Joanne had offered to drive me to my apartment, but I wanted her to find out what was going on as soon as possible. She didn’t need much persuading. We both wanted to know what was in the autopsy report.
Chapter 10
I arrived at the clinic around nine thirty. The building was crowded and hectic, but voices were lowered, hushed whispers hissing down the hallways.
The police had sealed the door to the basement, the yellow tape glaring against the dull green walls.
The waiting room was quiet, subdued. Fewer patients were here than yesterday. I wondered if it was just standard fluctuation or if word had gotten out. Would you want to see a doctor in a building where they’d just found a dead body?
“You want to change your appointment?” I heard Bernie saying into the phone.
O’Connor would be interviewing anyone who might have seen Beverly Sue Morris here on Friday. And, of course, they would talk to their friends.
“Hi, Micky,” Millie said as she came out to put something on Bernie’s desk. “You look like death warmed over. Late night?”
“Fairly. How’s Cordelia?”
“She looks like death, period.” Millie shook her head. “Do you know what’s going on here? I’ve called Hutch, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”
I nodded, then looked at the patients in the waiting room. “Storeroom?”
“Twenty minutes,” she replied.
I nodded.
She headed back toward the examining rooms.
Cordelia stepped out of one of them. She looked up and saw me, giving me a wan smile. Millie was right, she looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her skin a sallow shade. She glanced at something Millie was showing her, then back at me, a nod, an acknowledgment and then she reentered the examining room.
I went back into the hallway, glad that O’Connor and his boys weren’t present, although I had no illusions that he wouldn’t show up later. I had hoped to snag Bernie’s telephone, but she obviously was going to be on it for a while. I went in search of a pay phone.
“Good morning, Michele,” Sister Ann called to me from her office as I walked by.
“Morning,” I replied.
She beckoned me in.
“The tape on the basement door. Do you know why it’s there?” she asked.
“I do. And I’ll even tell you if you’ll let me borrow your phone to make a quick call. Local.”
“Fair enough.” She got up. “I’ll run and get some coffee. How do you like yours?”
“A rumor of milk. Thanks.”
She headed down the hallway.
I dialed Danny’s office. She wasn’t in, so I left my name and Cordelia’s clinic number.
Sister Ann returned, handing me a mug of coffee. She looked expectantly at me. I took a sip of coffee, then closed her door. I sat back down.
“There was a body in the basement,” I stated flatly.
“Oh, dear. Deceased, I presume.”
I nodded.
“How…? Who found it?”
“I did.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
I shrugged a fake nonchalance.
“One of the old men of the neighborhood?” she inquired.
“No.” I shook my head. And I told Sister Ann about the young woman I had found. I didn’t leave out the part about her being a patient of Cordelia’s. Sister Ann would find that out soon enough anyway. Better from me.
She said nothing, listening intently to my story. When I finished, she said, “What do you think happened?”
“I know what didn’t happen,” I answered. “I know Cordelia didn’t mess up an abortion and then cover her mistake by dumping the body in the basement.”
“That young woman had an abortion?” Sister Ann asked. I’d forgotten I was talking to a nun.
“I don’t know. Not for sure. I haven’t heard the autopsy report yet,” I answered, tensing for the lecture.
“What you say is true…Don’t worry, I’m not going to proselytize,” she said, seeing the tight look on my face. “I’m sure you and I disagree and I don’t care to waste my time in a useless argument. Dr. James is, at least according to her moral code, not a murderer. Nor is she one of those weak-willed people who fall into this sort of abyss, because ‘things got out of hand.’”
“No, she’s not.”
“But still, a young woman died and ended up in our basement. That disturbs me.”
“And me,” I added.
“What—” she began, but was interrupted by a knocking on her door. It opened and Aunt Greta stepped in.
“Here are the reports that Father Flynn—” Aunt Greta stopped when she saw me. “What are you doing here, Michele?”
“Indulging my latest perversion, Aunt Greta. Nuns.”
“Don’t be offensive,” she reprimanded me.
“It’s a state of being for me,” I retorted.
“I’ll be with you in a minute, Mrs. Robedeaux,” Sister Ann broke in. Aunt Greta stood her ground. “If you’ll just wait in the hall,” Sister Ann prompted.
Aunt Greta backed out, leaving the door open. I got up and shut it.
“The police will surely question you,” I said. “They’re out to get Cordelia.”
“I can only tell them the truth,” Sister Ann answered.
“Do that. Just make sure you tell them the whole truth and not just the truth they want to hear.”
She nodded.
I stood up.
“If there’s anything I can do…” she said.
“I’ll let you know,” I finished.
I went back into the hall, pointedly ignoring Aunt Greta. I saw Millie duck out of the clinic and make for the storeroom. I went to join her.
“Is it okay if Bernie listens in?” she asked me as I slipped through the door.
“Sure,” I said, leaving the door ajar.
“Hi,” Bernie said as she came in. “Anything to get away from that phone.”
I told them the story, including all the details, just as I had with Sister Ann. I emphasized that we didn’t know how the young woman died.
“The paperwork doesn’t prove anything,” Bernie interjected. “Hell, people are probably stealing tons of receipts and insurance forms right now. Speaking of which, I’m sure the phone is ringing. Keep me up-to-date,” she added as she headed back to her phone.
“Do they think the woman was murdered?” Millie asked.
“So far. Their theory seems to be that Cordelia butchered her on Friday and left her to die.”
Millie made an angry, hissing sound, then shook her head. “Who’s on the case?” she asked.
“Some bull by the name of O’Connor. He was pissed to hell that Joanne was here.”
“Joanne’s a hard-ass,” Millie said. “Well, she is,” she added in response to my look.
“I thought Joanne and Hutch got along,” I replied.
“Oh, they do. Hutch says Joanne’s the best cop he’s ever worked with. She doesn’t make mistakes. And if you work with her, you don’t either.”
“You try not to.”
“I’ll ask Hutch about O’Connor. But if I were doing an investigation, I wouldn’t like Joanne looking over my shoulder.”
“I’m doing one and she is,” I answered.
“How bad is it for Cordelia?” Millie asked, her tone serious.
“I don’t know yet. Soon.”
She nodded somberly. “I need to get back. Thanks for filling me in.”
I followed Millie back to the clinic. Aunt Greta was making the halls too dangerous to be out and about in. O’Connor, I was guessing, was due to show up anytime now.
I had just sat down and procured a magazine replete with promises on ways to improve my love life when Bernie called me.
“Phone call,” she said. “Take it in Dr. James’s office.” She pointed the way.
It was Joanne.
“Micky,” she said, then uncharacteristically, paused.
I waited.
“It’s not good,” she said.
“How not good?”
“Bad. A perforated uterus. She died of shock and blood loss sometime on Friday afternoon. An incompetent abortion, in the medical examiner’s opinion.”
“Shit,” I breathed.
“Yeah.”
After a pause Joanne continued. “There’s more. Another woman. She was found early this morning around the Industrial Canal. And…”
“A botched abortion,” I finished, hoping Joanne would contradict me. But she didn’t. “How…?” I started, but I wasn’t sure of my question and Joanne had no answers.
“You going to stay at the clinic?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“If I learn anything else, I’ll call you.”
“Okay, thanks. Joanne…” I started to ask if I would see her, but backed away.
“I’ll try to come by the clinic after work. If you’ll still be there?”
“I will.”
“Right.” She hung up.
I sat for a moment, still cradling the receiver, then I put it down and started back for the waiting room. I was trying to decide when and what to tell Cordelia.
“Another phone call, Micky,” Bernie called to me.
I turned back to Cordelia’s office.
It was Danny.
“How’d you get your nose stuck in this?” was her greeting.
“You know me, Danno, can’t take me anywhere. I keep stumbling over dead bodies.”
“A bad habit, Mick.”
But there was no sense of fun in our banter. Just a way to ease into the serious part.
“I know. What’s the story?” I asked.
“So far as I know, the case is circumstantial. Nothing directly proving that Cordelia performed an abortion on this woman, and, even if she did, that that was what killed her. O’Connor might arrest her, but he probably won’t. He needs a few more pieces of this puzzle.”
“That’s it?” I said. “A few more pieces of the puzzle? What are we supposed to do? Hope he doesn’t find them?”
“Look,” Danny cut me off. “I’ve talked to Hastings Johnson and Karen Shapiro. They’re on this one. I told them it stinks. And that I’d be on the stand as a character witness for Cordelia James, because if there was ever a person who wouldn’t commit murder, then she is that person. Okay?”
“Sorry, Danny,” I apologized.
“You’ve heard the latest?” she asked.
“Perforated uterus and another body.”
“My, you’re quick. Dare I ask who your source is?”
“Joanne. But only because she called first.”
“Good. She’ll keep O’Connor honest. Find out what you can.”
“I’m doing that.” I heard O’Connor’s voice in the outer office. “Speaking of which. Guess who just arrived.”
“Call me if you have any complaints of police brutality.”
“I will.”
“I’ll be here. Seriously, call me if anything happens.” If he arrested Cordelia.
Danny and I said good-bye.
“You can’t barge in here,” I heard Millie exclaim.
“I can’t, huh?” O’Connor replied. “You are obstructing a policeman in the performance of his duty. I need to see your esteemed Dr. James. Now, if not sooner.”