Angel Sleuth (28 page)

“Get on with it,” he said.

“I found some letters Leda wrote to Frederica Hatfield. They indicated you were Caroline’s father.”

Baldo’s chin jerked up, and he seemed about to deny her words, but he sighed instead and leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, that’s true. I might as well tell you about us. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all over now.” He stared off into a corner of the room and spoke in a monotone as if he couldn’t care less about what he was saying.

“I was married when I met Leda and much older than she was. She captured my imagination with her clear green eyes, her generosity, her naïveté. I fell in love. She didn’t. When she got pregnant, I thought it was the perfect solution to my wife’s infertility. We could adopt the baby and raise it as our own, but Leda felt she couldn’t stand the thought of her child so near to her, so I helped her find adoptive parents. As it turned out, my wife was opposed to adoption anyway. I delivered the baby, here in my office. No one knew of Leda’s pregnancy or of my role in it.”

Kaitlin knew he was telling half-truths, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

“That’s a lie, and you know it. Several people knew Leda was pregnant. Her best friend Violet Means knew, then there was Frederica, and Nicole, her twin, knew. And, according to Violet, everything Leda had, Nicole wanted, too. Somehow Nicole found out about your affair with Leda and her child. And, Henry, that made you very attractive to Nicole, didn’t it?”

He sat up straighter, his face now suffused with a sense of renewed energy. Had she unwittingly given him just the key he needed to put himself in a better light?

“Yes, yes. Nicole was so different from Leda. Scheming, manipulative. She used people. She seduced me. At first, I thought she was interested in me. I was taken in. She seemed so like Leda. Once she had me, her true nature revealed itself. She was using me. She threatened to tell my wife about our relationship.”

“But that wasn’t what bothered you, was it?”

“She said if I didn’t continue with her, she’d tell Leda. I loved Leda. I couldn’t face her knowing about Nicole and me.”

“You couldn’t face what a fool you’d been with Nicole.”
Still lying all these years, aren’t you, Henry?

“As quickly as she got involved with me, she dropped me. She married Will Jameson, Sr., and they moved away to New York City. I never saw her after that. She didn’t get in touch, and I certainly wasn’t sad to see her gone from my life. I heard she died when Will was born. Yes. Yes. I was a fool.”

Kaitlin slammed her palm down on the desktop. How dare he dismiss his behavior by labeling it merely foolish?

“You were more than a fool. You were cruel. To your wife, to Leda, and even to Nicole.”

He dismissed her comments with a wave of his hand. “To Nicole? She was ruthless in our affair.”

“As I figure it, Nicole was also only nineteen years old. Hardly a woman of the world. You were at least twenty years her senior.”

“She seduced me! I couldn’t help myself. She took advantage of how much she looked like Leda.”

Baldo pushed back from his desk and stood up. His body was trembling, and rage distorted his features. Too many years playing the victim with no one to challenge his view of the events warped his perception of his responsibility in dealing with all of these women.

His long, bony hands reached out, and for a moment Kaitlin thought he meant to place them around her throat. Maybe he did, but he recovered his composure before he could act. When he spoke, fury was in his voice.

“Now get out of here. I’ve got to get on the road.”

“I think you should think twice about running. It makes you look terribly guilty, which you are, of course, but it suggests you played a major role in the events at ARC. Did you? With you out of the picture, your buddies at ARC will be certain to lay the primary blame at your feet.”

Baldo hesitated only for a moment. Then he grabbed his briefcase and a suitcase that sat on the floor by his desk and headed for the door, pushing around her.

Kaitlin called after him. “So how did they manage to pull you into this thing? You’re a respected doctor around here. Only you and I know what a real phony you are. Or is there more to your past than misadventures with vulnerable young women?”

Baldo took a deep breath, exhaled and carried his things across the room to his desk where he placed them very carefully, almost delicately, back onto the floor. He dropped into the desk chair once more. This time there was defeat on his features.

“Abortions. I did abortions before they were legal in the United States. Somehow they found out and swore they would ruin my reputation with my past illegal and unethical practices.”

“So you…” She was hoping he would fill in the blanks. She was fumbling in the dark here.

“So I did what they said.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “One of my patients left these the other day. Haven’t smoked one in over forty years, but I guess it can’t hurt now.”

He scrounged around in the drawer for matches, found a book, and lit the cigarette. He coughed with the first lungful of smoke, then blew out a perfect smoke ring.

“I always did that. Leda used to love seeing me blowing smoke rings. The smell of smoke made her sick when she got pregnant, so I quit then and haven’t gone back, until now.

“So you know about Leda’s letters to Frederica Hatfield telling her everything about Leda and me, about the baby and all. She and Leda were always close, and I was certain Frederica knew all about us. Hiram told me about the letters, that he got them from Bethany. He even tried to blackmail me with them. How did you find out about them? Well, no matter.”

He had the coughing under control and continued blowing smoke rings, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“You were in Frederica’s room threatening her the day before she died. But you’re wrong about the letters. Not all of them were from Leda. Some were, and they talked about the baby and you, but most of them were from Nicole, spelling out a little secret that even you may not know.”

She saw a flicker of interest in his eyes as he ground out the cigarette.

“I suspect Hiram held back on me. He would have eventually hit me up for additional funds as he offered me the privilege of buying more of the letters. I didn’t bite, by the way. Go ahead.”

“Not only is Caroline your daughter and Leda’s, but Will Jameson is also your son. You had more than an affair with Nicole. You had a son with her.”

The expression on his face remained the same, expressionless, old, tired, but his eyes lit up for a brief moment, then returned to their usual muddy color. His mouth again turned up at the corners, but it was the smile of an emotional skeleton.

“Do they know?” he asked.

“No, they don’t. I thought it was up to you to tell them both, especially Caroline. Her son has been diagnosed with leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant. So you see, it’s particularly key that they know. And it should be from their father’s lips, don’t you think?”

He nodded his agreement.

“And, when you’re finished with those confessions, you might want to take a walk down to the police station and tell them what you did. To Frederica, I mean. You did kill her, didn’t you?” He caught himself in a half-nod of agreement, but refused to answer the question.

“But I didn’t kill Leda, you know.”

“I know, but you found her shortly after someone pushed her down the stairs.”

“I thought you knew something was wrong all along. You were the one on the bicycle, weren’t you?”

Kaitlin dipped her head slightly, not wanting to interrupt the mood of confession that had moved over Henry Baldo. He had more to tell, she knew.

“Frederica Hatfield was an old woman. She was dying. Why would you think I had any reason to kill her? I didn’t know about those letters when she died.”

Denial again. She pushed. “No, but she was on to what was going on at ARC, wasn’t she? And she was going to make trouble up there. Freddie was certain you were in on the thefts and whatever else was happening to the residents. But your major concern was that she would tell Leda. And she would have.”

“If Frederica told Leda about Nicole and me…”

“That’s why you killed her? You still don’t get it, do you? It wasn’t about the affair at all. It was about the kind of man you were that finally broke Frederica’s silence. You’re weak and selfish. Always were and continue to be. Finally, Frederica Hatfield could only protect Leda by telling her about you, not keeping quiet any longer.” It appeared there was no end to Baldo’s ability to deceive himself, and Kaitlin had grown tired of the man’s lack of insight into himself and his actions.

“She never got the chance to tell Leda.” He said this with some satisfaction, some of the arrogant Baldo remaining.

“But Frederica did pass the letters on to Bethany.”

“Go away. I want to be alone now.”

Henry Baldo lit up another cigarette as she left. Kaitlin was glad enough to get away from him. As she opened the gate to let herself out of the yard, she turned back toward the house. She could see him at his study window, blowing perfect smoke rings and staring at the roses along his walkway, their lush red petals now wilting in the hot afternoon sun.

She glanced at her watch as she trudged home, her faithful tail, Mac, close behind. She hoped Baldo would evidence some integrity for once and place those calls to Caroline and Will. She’d check on that tomorrow. Tomorrow. She’d take care of everything tomorrow.

As she approached her front steps, a car pulled up alongside the curb. She fully expected it would be Jim, and he would reprimand her for disobeying his instructions. She didn’t care. She was tired and depressed.

She turned toward the vehicle and saw it wasn’t a police cruiser at all, but Bethany’s friend, Emma. She looked terrified. Mac opened the door of his car and prepared to approach, but Kaitlin waved him back, afraid she would bolt. She leaned into the passenger’s window.

“Ms. Singer, you have to come quick! Hiram grabbed Bethany and shoved her into a car. He said he would kill her if I called the police. And he gave me a message for you. If you want to see Bethany alive again, you should meet them out at the Kinderkill Gorge Park.”

Kinderkill Gorge Park was a place of rugged beauty. When Kaitlin was a child, she and her father, before he left the family, would come out here on Sunday afternoons and hike the many trails that led up and down the gorge. Always a tomboy, Kaitlin loved these adventures, a time to get away from her mother’s more sedentary interests and pretend she was a member of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, a trail blazer, mountain climber, trapper and hunter. It was a make-believe world she and Dad shared.

Today that world was gone, replaced by one where the games were real and made up by a possible murderer. And she had lost her childhood sense of bravery and derring-do. She was merely a woman alone against a man who hated her for a humiliation he’d suffered at her hands decades ago and had deigned to repeat again recently. This was a fool’s errand, and she worried she had no chance of preventing him from doing whatever he wanted to do to either her or Bethany. But she had to try.

Grey boulders jutted out from the side of the chasm, lush green pine trees grew at awkward angles out of the rock, and the river rushed through the stony canyon floor several hundred feet below the top of the walls. A small wood and rope footbridge crossed the abyss, its sway enough to convince the meek that looking across to the other side was as adventurous as they wanted to get on a Sunday drive through the mountains.

As a child, she had crossed the swinging bridge with no thought for her safety. Now she stood alone on the eastern side of the river, using her hand to shade her eyes against the sun as it made its way toward the horizon.

She reconsidered her actions. Was this such a great idea? She had lied to Mac, telling him Emma was asking after Bethany, and then she sneaked out of the back door after he had told her no more trips out of the house. And now here she was, alone, a drop-off of several hundred feet below her and a drunk, furious, murderous ex-boyfriend whom she’d used as a pincushion on several occasions somewhere near. Suddenly she wanted to be home hiding in a closet.

“Kaitlin!” It sounded like Bethany’s voice coming from the other side of the bridge. She placed her foot on the wooden floor and both hands on the rope handrails. Wind from downriver shook the structure and made the rope pull against her hand. She withdrew her foot.

“Kaitlin!” The call repeated itself. She looked down into the swirling waters, and her stomach lurched in response to the drop.

She scanned the opposite shore but could see no one. The only way she’d know if they were there was to go, just go. She grabbed the rope rail, and pushed forward on the flimsy expanse, keeping her eyes on the tree line ahead of her.

Fifty feet from the other side, a figure stepped onto the bridge. Hiram. He had something in his hand, but the sun in her eyes made it impossible to see what it was he held. He spoke a few words, but she couldn’t make out their meaning as the wind carried his voice downstream. She stopped on the bridge, afraid to approach him.

He stepped back off the swaying structure. The sun glinted off metal as he raised his arm skyward. An axe! He brought it down on the ropes that tied the wooden planking of the bridge together. The blow shook the floor of the bridge, but she could see the ropes held.

She turned to retreat when the second blow fell, and the bridge twisted to the right. She grabbed the left hand rail with both her hands, planting her feet on the wooden planks. She knew the ropes supporting the floor of the bridge would not hold if Hiram attacked the remaining rope support with the axe.

She pulled herself along the bridge toward the side from which she came and felt the axe fall again. She wrapped her arms around the handrail for a better grip. Another shattering blow to the ropes and the entire bottom of the bridge gave way. Her feet dangled above nothing more substantial than mountain air. She heaved her body over the hand rope so that it was under her armpits while her hands gripped the line more tightly, her feet pedaling the air. Once Hiram severed the handrails, the entire bridge would swing toward the rocky canyon wall and smash her into the boulders that jutted out from it.