Ash Wednesday (21 page)

*  *  *

Across the street in a back booth nursing a scotch and water, Tetzel remembered the success of his story about the return of Nathaniel Green. Unusual as the response to that story had been, Tetzel liked to think that it characterized his work. Like a duffer who makes a lucky shot, he thought he had finally hit his level. In his mind, he reviewed possibilities. Expose local political corruption? A damning portrait of Lubins the coroner? A mean smile twisted his lips. The police department? But that would take him back to the Pianones, and that was a no-no, personal as well as professional. Once only had he dared such a story, and it had meant an ignominious apology to Rocco Pianone and a retraction in the paper. It did not help his mood when Tuttle sauntered in with Peanuts Pianone in tow. The little lawyer might have gladly enlisted with the Pianone forces, but their business went to a Chicago law firm that had opened a branch office in Fox River the better to serve their shady client. A headline moved across the addled surface of Tetzel’s mind.
LOCAL FAMILY’S MANY CONTRIBUTIONS TO CIVIC LIFE
. A paean of praise to the Pianones. Had it come to that?

Tuttle and Peanuts slipped into the booth across from him, and Tetzel scowled.

“I didn’t see you at the funeral,” Tuttle said, adjusting his tweed hat.

The order Tuttle had called to the bartender as he passed him arrived. Brown ale for Peanuts and a shandy for Tuttle. Wilma called out what she had brought, put it before Tetzel’s unwanted companions, and returned to her post.

“Who died?”

“Come on. Nathaniel Green’s sister-in-law.”

“Did you go?”

“The cream of the city was there. And Rebecca Farmer. Why did she draw the assignment?”

Rebecca! This was news to Tetzel. Was her claim to be writing about the food in the county jail a ruse? He thought of returning to the pressroom and quizzing his colleague, but the thought fizzled away. He could believe that Menteur was exacting revenge by letting Rebecca enjoy the fallout from Tetzel’s great story.

“She does the routine things. Tell me about it.”

“You’ve seen one funeral, you’ve seen them all,” Tuttle said. Did the little lawyer suspect he would be pouring salt into the wound?

“How’s Hazel?” Tetzel asked.

“She always asks about you.”

Tetzel thought of the well-endowed Amazon who dominated Tuttle’s office. Peanuts muttered an obscenity. Tetzel knew how the arrival of Hazel had disturbed the even tenor of Peanuts’s life.

“Was Nathaniel Green there?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“I suppose he’ll want you to change his will now.”

The tweed hat swung in a negative motion. “No reason for that.”

“How can a dead women inherit money?”

“She can’t, Gerry. But her son can.”

Jason Burke. Tetzel knew the man’s reputation. The thought of a drunk and a gambler coming into a fortune was depressing. Or would have been if a dim bulb had not gone on in Tetzel’s mind. The heir of Nathaniel Green?

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s reformed.”

“Sure he has.” Tetzel had the weakling’s skepticism about moral reform.

“He told me he intends to go on with the Foot Doctor.”

Tetzel looked blank.

“His business. In the mall. Shoes.”

HEIR VOWS TO KEEP TO SIMPLE LIFE?
“Tell me about it.”

While Tuttle talked, Wilma arrived with another drink for Tetzel. He almost sent it back. He didn’t. “Could you bring me a cup of coffee, Wilma?”

“Coffee?” He had surprised her.

“Black.”

Tetzel sat on after Tuttle and Peanuts left. He finished his second drink and ordered another black coffee. He would have wished that he had not come here except that coming here had brought Tuttle and what Tetzel considered a lead to a story that would get Menteur’s mind off all the smoking going on in the courthouse.

He drove to the mall, slowly and carefully, and found the Foot Doctor after cruising around the parking lot. He pulled into a space, turned off the motor, and stared at the storefront.
SCION OF PROMINENT LOCAL FAMILY MAKES MODEST FOOTPRINT
.

He got out of his car, slammed the door, and inhaled deeply. He nearly passed out. His head cleared, and he took in the normalcy of the mall, eager consumers going from store to store, families, ordinary people. Readers. He made his way to the entrance of the Foot Doctor.

A bell jangled above him when he entered. No one took notice of him. Tetzel took a chair and waited, observing the action about him.

A family of five, all of them in stockinged feet, were being waited on by a gangly young man.

“Be with you in a minute, sir.”

“There’s no hurry.”

One of the kids got up and tried out the tennis shoes that the
clerk had just fitted him into. Little lights in the backs of them went on and off as he walked, head turned, appreciating the effect. He walked into Tetzel. The mother rose, grabbed the kid’s arm, and hurled him into a seat. Tetzel waved away the collision but was ignored. There was no sign of the proprietor.

The clerk made five sales; the family headed for the door.

“What did you have in mind?” the gangly young clerk asked, coming to Tetzel. He stood, smiling a sunny smile, his Adam’s apple riding up and down his throat.

“Something comfortable.”

“Loafers?”

“Let me see what you have.”

Tetzel had removed one of his shoes and put his foot into a device that measured his size. The clerk adjusted the device. “Ten and a half,” he announced and then disappeared into the back room, from which he returned with an armful of boxes. He pulled up his stool, opened a box, and pulled out a loafer, displaying it to Tetzel.

The reporter offered his foot. “You own the place?”

Again the big smile. “Don’t I wish.”

Did he dream of owning such a store? Tetzel marveled at the ambitions of the simple. At that guy’s age he was already on the staff of the
Tribune
, the whole world before him. The loafer slid comfortably onto his foot. Maybe he would buy a pair of shoes.

“Say, this isn’t Jason Burke’s store, is it?”

The kid nodded.

“He in?”

“There’s been a tragedy in his family.” He looked up, solemn. “His mother.”

Tetzel affected puzzlement, then began to nod. “Oh, that’s right. Mrs. Helen Burke. Well, maybe he’ll sell you the store now.”

“You want to try that out?”

Tetzel rose and took several steps, then sat again.

“Fit all right?”

“Perfect. I’ll take them.”

Tetzel remained seated while the clerk, having taken his credit card, went to write up the sale. He brought back a slip for Tetzel to sign, then handed him a plastic bag containing his new shoes. Tetzel remained seated. No other customers had come in.

“He came into a lot of money, didn’t he?”

The clerk just rolled his eyes.

“Why would he want to keep this store?”

“Because it’s been his salvation. Those are his very words.”

“What do they mean?”

The clerk looked as if he might explain, then apparently thought better of it. All he did was shrug.

After he left the store, Tetzel sat for some minutes in his car before starting the engine. If he wasn’t on to a story here, he would eat Tuttle’s tweed hat.

Madeline Clancy was surprised when Amos Cadbury asked her to come for the reading of Helen’s will. When she got there she found the office to be almost crowded. Jason had been given pride of place, directly across the desk from the lawyer. Carmela sat beside him. She had been a constant presence all during these awful days, at the wake, at the funeral, at the cemetery afterward. She and Madeline had hardly exchanged a word, as if Carmela had not wanted to
explain the big change to her old friend. It seemed clear that Carmela hoped that the long separation from Jason was over. He looked fresh and healthy and neatly dressed; you could glimpse the young man he had been behind his present puffy exterior. Now his weight seemed almost to lend him gravitas. Well, after all, this was his moment. Jason would finally come into his own.

Nathaniel Green had arrived just before Madeline, with Natalie Armstrong, and Amos’s secretary was taking them to their chairs when she came in. Madeline had been wondering what she was doing here, but the same question could be asked about Natalie. Behind his desk, Amos Cadbury looked benignly at the gathering.

“It is seldom that sadness does not bring a little happiness along with it,” he began. “These have been difficult days for the family, and you all have borne it well. At such a moment, even pleasant news is not as welcome as it ordinarily would be. Let me just tell you that we are here to learn what Helen wanted for all of you.”

The bulk of what Helen had would go, of course, to Jason. He listened impassively to Amos Cadbury, nor did Carmela’s expression change. Of course, neither of them could have been surprised to hear what they did. The only surprise was that perhaps neither of them had ever imagined that it would be Helen who brought them together again.

Then there was a surprise.

“Helen’s motherly concern continues from beyond the grave,” Amos Cadbury went on. “The handling of such a large amount of money is, in its way, a nuisance. It is almost a full-time job. Jason, your mother didn’t want to burden you with that. She thought it better that everything be put into the hands of an experienced person who could take the responsibility off your shoulders. I think she expected me to play that role.”

Jason nodded. “No one better, Amos.”

“I think there is. Carmela has known a good deal of success doing just this sort of thing.”

“Carmela would be even better, Amos. I know what my mother would have feared. Who could blame her? Besides, this keeps it in the family.”

Delicately, Amos made it clear that Jason would not have control over his new wealth. He could not have acquitted his responsibility if that were unclear in Jason’s mind. Even this fuller explanation did not faze Jason. Listening, Madeline wondered if Helen had realized that this arrangement would seal the reunion of Jason and Carmela.

There were further surprises as well, and Madeline understood why she and Natalie Armstrong were there. Helen had not forgotten her distant relatives. Natalie was left a tidy sum. Madeline was left some money but also, incredibly, the house.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Madeline cried.

“Why not?” Jason asked, turning to her. “We certainly wouldn’t want to live there.”

Nathaniel followed the proceedings without visible reaction. Was he perhaps relieved that the money he had bequeathed to Helen, which would now go to Jason, would be in good hands with Carmela?

Amos’s secretary came in with coffee and rolls, and the meeting altered its character. Everyone stood and began talking. Amos smiled benevolently at them all as if he had just maneuvered through some very choppy waters without incident. Had he imagined Jason objecting to having money but without control over it? Madeline went to Nathaniel and Natalie.

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “The house!”

“Blood is thicker than water,” Nathaniel said.

Natalie began to explain exactly how she was related to Helen, as if she, too, needed an explanation for her good fortune. Her
grandfather Armstrong had been related to Helen’s grandfather by marriage. It all sounded very remote to Madeline, but perhaps her own connection was even more tenuous. How very nice it was of Helen to have thought of her. The image of the vindictive old woman at the St. Hilary senior center faded before these developments.

They moved into the outer office, but Carmela and Jason stayed behind with Amos Cadbury. Soon, Jason himself joined them, leaving his wife with the lawyer.

“What will you do with the Foot Doctor?” Madeline asked Jason.

“Keep it. It’s the only successful thing I’ve ever done.”

Madeline could not help remembering her visits there, the dinners she and Jason had shared, her silly thought that eventually the two of them would pool resources and live together, two old shirttail relatives heading into the twilight. Jason seemed younger suddenly, no longer the defeated figure he had been.

“I am reforming, Mad,” he told her in a whisper. “Laugh if you want, but I mean it.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Is your memory that short?”

“And Carmela, will she go on working?”

“Of course. And I will be her client. You heard the provisions.”

More than a client, certainly. How many clients were so thoroughly in Carmela’s hands as Jason would be? It was so good to hear Jason’s resolution. Madeline had heard others in the past, of course, but now the circumstances were so changed. Helen’s death really seemed Jason’s chance to grow up at last. What would happen if he didn’t change, or if his reunion with Carmela were only temporary?

Carmela came out of the inner office with Amos, and her eyes met Madeline’s. She came swiftly to her. “Can you believe this?”

“No. What on earth will I do with that big house?”

“Get a man and move in.”

Immediately Carmela seemed to regret the remark, one she might have made years ago when they were girls together. “Or you could sell it.” “I’ll want your advice if I do.”