Barbara Levenson - Mary Magruder Katz 03 - Outrageous October (22 page)

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CHAPTER

SIXTY-TWO

The phone in the kitchen woke me. I reached for my alarm clock and nearly fell out of bed. The alarm clock I pictured was the one on the bedside table in Miami. I opened my eyes and remembered I was still in Vermont.

Sun was streaming in the windows and my watch said nine o’clock. The phone was still ringing as I ran to the kitchen.

“Mary, are you okay?” It was Dash.

“Yes, I was so exhausted that I was still sleeping. You’ll never guess who I met last night. Tom Brousseau has been living in his house. I told you someone was in there. He’ll be over to see you later.”

“That’s interesting. No that’s bizarre. The reason I’m calling is that the FBI people want to talk to Ken Upham today. They’re meeting with the lawyer who found Roland’s body this morning. I guess Curtis is actually meeting the lawyer while the FBI guys go through Roland’s house.”

“I’ll bring Tom over to your office later this morning. Have Ken come over and I’ll be there while he talks to Curtis. They’re not wasting any time with their investigation, are they?

“No they’re not. They’re appalled at the inefficiency of the local sheriff’s office.”

At eleven o’clock I was seated in Dash’s office. Tom had finished his explanation of his weird behavior. Ken was waiting in the reception room listening to Daisy’s constant conversation.

I walked out to speak to Ken when a tall man walked in. He was beginning to turn grey. The graying hair made his round face look young.

“I’m Curtis Lemay, here to meet with Ken Upham,” he said.

“So pleased to meet you,” Daisy jumped up from her desk and pumped Curtis’s hand. “Thanks for coming to help our little community.”

I wasn’t sure whether she meant High Pines or the Jewish congregation.

“This is Mary Magruder Katz. She’s going to be representing Ken, and this is Ken Upham,” Daisy said, sounding like she was introducing guests at a cocktail party.

Just then Dash came out of his inner office. Dash and Curtis shook hands. .

“Please use the library,” Dash said. “If you need me, just dial one on the intercom and I’ll come right in. I have a young client in my office who needs me right now.”

I led the way into the library followed by Ken and Curtis. We seated ourselves around the table. Curtis pulled a number of papers from his briefcase.

“Mr. Upham, I understand you are retired from law enforcement. As a matter of fact, I checked into your background and career and spoke to your chief in New Haven this morning. You have had an enviable career and a flawless record. Even so, I need to have you sign this Miranda rights form before we go any further.”

“I understand,” Ken said. He took the form and quickly initialed each line and signed it at the bottom.

“Tell me everything you know about Roland Behr, how you met him, what transpired leading up to his lawsuit, anything you observed about him,” Curtis said.

Ken described in detail the problems he had encountered with Roland, even including much of the hearing in Barre on our motion to dismiss. I was impressed with the details he was able to describe.

“Mr. Upham, what was your opinion about this secret club that met at Behr’s house?”

“Please, call me Ken. I never thought they were an environmental group. All the target practice that went on in his backyard was suspicious. I told my wife it was unsafe, and I wanted to talk to Roland about it, but my wife told me not to start any more arguments with the man. I thought he might be part of some right wing militia group, but when I asked others here in the village about this, everyone said he was just a crazy old coot.”

“I appreciate your input. I am not looking at you as a suspect in this case. In fact I would be happy to hear any insights or theories that you may develop as this investigation unfolds.” Curtis stood up and gathered his papers.

“I’m sure Dash doesn’t mind if you stay here to question any other witnesses,” I said.

“Thanks, but I’m headed to investigate some other names that have surfaced. I spoke to Rabbi Goldblatt earlier today. He is bringing some of the congregants to his office today or tomorrow. One of the FBI agents will be spending the day there doing the questioning.”

“Do you have a theory as to who the killer is?” Ken asked.

“Let’s just say I have some ideas to follow up on,” Curtis said as we followed him into the reception area.

As soon as Curtis walked out the door, Daisy looked at us with a strained expression.

“Are you okay, Daisy?” I asked.

For once she was quiet. She reached for a handkerchief in the pocket of her sweater and finally spoke very slowly. “Do you think someone in the Jewish community killed Roland Behr? If that’s true, this village will never be the same.”

Ken and I were standing in the driveway outside Dash’s office when Ken’s cell phone rang.

“Yes, Rita, I’m fine, dear. Not to worry. Mary? Yes I know where she is. She’s standing right next to me. I’ll tell her.” Ken signed off and turned to me. “Lillian Yarmouth is looking for you. Better call her right away.”

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CHAPTER

SIXTY-THREE

Sherry Revisited

Sherry was feeling sick again. Her ears buzzed and she couldn’t shake off the feeling of being constantly cold. The Dartmouth psychologist that she met with said the feelings that weren’t subsiding would take time, but would eventually be erased when she got back to a normal schedule.

Mother had already set up appointments with a medical doctor and a psychologist in Miami. Brett was getting her transcripts from the college for her to take with her back to Miami. Most of her things were packed and ready for the UPS truck to pick up at her dorm to be shipped home.

The other sick feeling she had was from the constant arguing with Mother. Sherry had decided she wouldn’t leave until she went to the jail to talk to Paul. Mother was adamant that she wouldn’t permit her to experience “any further trauma” as Mother portrayed this. The psychologist sided with Sherry, explaining to Lillian that it was important that Sherry have a chance to close the door on her feelings of betrayal. But still Mother would not listen.

Mary was meeting with Lillian in the coffee shop downstairs. Sherry stretched out on the bed in their little room in the inn. It was early afternoon, but Sherry felt as if she had been awake for hours. She had no energy. It was hard to believe that she had been walking to classes, riding her bike, playing lacrosse, just days ago. Now the thought of so much physical activity brought waves of nausea.

She must have slept a little because she was startled when the door opened. She looked up and saw Mother and Mary standing looking down at her.

“Hi Sherry. Sorry we woke you. How are you doing?” Mary asked.

“I’ve been better.” Sherry answered.

“See, I told you Sherry doesn’t need any more emotional events, Mary”

“Sherry, your mother tells me that you are insistent about visiting Paul at the jail. She is opposed to this, as you well know. We’ve been discussing this and I think you should have the opportunity to say what is on your mind. It will make things easier when you have to appear as a witness at the trial.”

“What do you mean appear as a witness?” Sherry sat up and gasped to catch her breath.

“Didn’t Sheriff Parsons explain to you that you would be called to testify? It won’t be for a while, and I’ll come back with you for the trial, if you like.”

“No one told me anything about this. I’m never coming back here. That’s why I want to see Paul Conrad before I leave here.”

“Well, we don’t have to discuss the trial now. The important thing is that your mother has agreed to your visit to the jail as long as I go with you,” Mary said. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, you can go with me.”

“Ken Upham found all the directions to the jail. It’s a twenty-five mile ride from here, so as soon as you get ready, we’ll get going. Ken said visiting hours are in the afternoon, but they end at four so we should go as soon as you’re ready.”

Sherry got up and went into the bathroom.

“Please be careful with her,” Lillian said.

In a few minutes, Sherry came out of the bathroom. She had applied a little makeup but her eyes looked sunken and her cheeks were hollow. She wasn’t that young innocent coed anymore.

The drive to the prison was a dichotomy of feelings. Mary kept pointing out how the hills were crimson and yellow with the changing leaves. She pointed to spectacular crimson oak trees or bright red maples. Sherry looked at them without really seeing them. She was putting all her effort into planning what she would do and say when she saw Paul.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to finish college here at Dartmouth? It’s such a beautiful campus and you’ll be leaving friends.”

“I’m sure. I’ll finish at the University of Miami. I want to be where it’s warm. Miami was what I thought about when I was in that cold barn. Anyway, you went to Miami and you turned out great.”

“I think it’s a fine university. I just want you to decide your future based on what you really want, not because of what anyone else wants.”

“You mean my mother. I want to see the sun and swim in our pool and wear shorts and flip-flops, and feel incredibly warm all the time.”

They drove through several small villages and turned off the state highway onto a narrow road. Mary glanced at the directions she had on a piece of paper. Soon they pulled into a parking lot in front of an old brick building.

“This is it,” Mary said. “I’m going to go in with you and help you with the paper work and visitor processing, but I don’t want to go with you to visit Paul. What you and he talk about is private, and I’m not about to invade that privacy. The only thing you shouldn’t discuss is what you will say as a witness. It’s possible that Paul will try to persuade you to help him by not telling his part in all of this; maybe by urging you to go to the sheriff and change what you have already said about Paul’s part in what happened.”

“I know better than that, Mary. I went through my mother’s hearings after Dad was murdered. I appreciate your respecting my privacy.”

“One other thing. I promised someone that I’d ask you to find out about what ever happened to Carolyn Brousseau’s dog.”

“What dog? What are you talking about?”

“Just ask Paul, please.”

They walked into the old brick jail. In a few minutes, Sherry had signed the visitor’s roster, and given the guards her purse. She was buzzed through a metal door and disappeared accompanied by a guard.

In a few minutes the guard reappeared. “Are you the lady who accompanied that young woman?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s right. Is something wrong?”

“I’d say so. When she went through the metal detector, we found this under her sweater.” The guard held out a large Swiss Army Knife. “She said she forgot she had it, always carries it for protection.”

“Is she going to be able to see Paul Conrad?” Mary asked.

“Yes, but not in the visitors’ room. She can talk to him by phone through the screen. Just a precaution.”

The woman corrections officer who searched her and found the knife delivered Sherry to a dimly lit area. Prisoners were behind a screen, seated at small windows. The officer pointed to a chair at one of the windows. No one was on the other side. A few minutes passed. Then a door opened and she saw Paul being brought through the door. He was in leg chains and handcuffs. The guard who brought him in unhooked his handcuffs and cuffed one hand to the arm of the chair. The guard pointed to the telephone receivers on each side of the window. Paul picked up his receiver with his free hand.

Sherry hesitated for a minute. As soon as Paul came through the door, her heart had started beating faster and faster. She thought she might black out. How ironic that Paul was now the one tethered to a chair. She looked at the receiver and picked it up.

“Sherry, I didn’t expect to ever see you here. I thought it was my public defender when they said I had a visitor. How are you?”

“Do you actually care how I am?”

“Why did you come?”

“I came because I realize that if you hadn’t helped me out of that place, I would have died, so I am grateful for that.”

“You have to believe that I never knew that Francie planned to kill you.”

“What I can’t understand is how you convinced me that you cared about me, that you loved me. I thought you were so special. I guess I am just stupid.”

“You’re one of the smartest girls I ever met, not silly or spoiled like a lot of the Dartmouth girls that hung at the pubs and bars. Please believe that I did have feelings for you, and not just because you were a good lay.”

“Then how could you have done what you did to me? You traded my feelings for money. That’s all you wanted.”

“Sherry, I lied to you a lot. My parents aren’t dead. Well, my mom is. My father is serving a life sentence in prison. He beat my mom to death. I was only fourteen and I had no parents left. Francie Wallace took me in. She was my foster mom, and Otis was like my own brother. They were all I had”

“I wish you’d told me the truth. I would have understood. We have a lot in common. My mother was accused of stabbing my father to death. After her arrest, I found out that he had been cheating on my mother through their whole marriage. It turned out that the woman who probably did kill him was one of his girlfriends. I thought my dad was the greatest until I learned the truth about him.”

“I didn’t think someone like you would understand. I guess we should have talked to each other more instead of fooling around all the time we were together.”

“Maybe things would have been different, but the reality is that you allowed me to be abused by that Francie.”

“Francie fooled me. She had me and Otis help her break into Mrs. Brousseu’s house where Francie used to work. She said we were just going to take some stuff while no one was there, but the old lady was there and Francie shot her, and then Otis shot their old dog and buried him in the woods”

“So Francie was already in big trouble. Why didn’t you go to the police, or get out of there?”

“Where could I go? And then Francie said if I told, she’d say I did the killing and I’d be in prison forever like my dad. She said they’d believe I was just like my dad.”

“So why were you hanging out with me?”

“Francie had this plan that if we could get a lot of money, we could get out of the Upper Valley and get far away, before the sheriff decided to find out who really killed Mrs. Brousseau. We were thinking of going to Florida or California. Francie said a lot of girls would like to be my girlfriend, and that all I had to do was find one of the rich Dartmouth ones. Once I got one interested in me she’d grab her and get money from the girl’s parents and then we’d be out of here. I never thought that she’d kill someone else.”

“So I turned up and fell for all of your lies.”

“Not all of it was lies. I was even thinking that I’d get my share of the money and come to Florida and maybe I’d find you there. I guess I’ll end up like my dad, sitting in prison all my life.”

“I told the sheriff that you were the one who got me out of that place before I was killed, so you probably won’t get as bad a sentence as Francie and Otis. I’m glad I came to see you and heard the real truth from you, but I don’t ever want to see you again. If you get out, don’t ever come near me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sherry. I truly am sorry.”

Sherry slammed down the receiver and walked out of the room as fast as she could. For the first time in days, the buzzing in her ears stopped.

She retrieved her purse and fled from the damp building. Mary hurried behind her.

“I found out about the dog. Otis killed it and buried it in the woods.”

“It wasn’t an it. It was a her,” Mary said. “Do you want to talk about anything else?”

“No, I don’t. I’m ready to leave for Miami. I hope we can go tomorrow.”