Full Wolf Moon (15 page)
"Were you ever in love?"
"No. As I said, I admired him and respected him..."
"I mean, ever in your life. Have you ever been in love with anyone?"
His question caught her off guard. She had expected to talk about Abel. But now Arthur was asking about Michael. Good Lord. Michael. She hadn't thought of him in years. She was surprised to find that his memory still stung a little.
"I...it's hard to say," Doris replied, trying to trivialize the romance. To, in effect, lie. "Maybe. There was this student from a nearby college. We met when I was a freshman and broke up before I was a junior."
"What happened?"
"Oh...restrictions, one thing. Sarah Lawrence is a women's college. But, really, it was just youth. Somebody'd already hurt him in his senior year of high school. He told me his steady had gotten in 'trouble.' But not with him." She leaned back in the swing. "That had to be a jolt to deal with so young. For both of them. By the time he and I met, he was too skittish, too bitter. A pity, to be that way at that age. It ended badly."
"Was that why you married the senator?"
Doris smiled at his assumption. "No, good Heavens, no. I didn't meet Abel until a year after graduation. By the time I met my husband, the break up with Michael wasn't much more to me than a lesson about avoiding career distractions."
"You think so?"
"What is this, are you Freud now? I didn't fool myself into thinking I was in love with Abel. I knew it and he knew it. It was a good marriage, Arthur. We had our ups and downs, but we did have a love of sorts. Yes, we did."
"So you're certain that, because you didn't fool yourself into thinking you loved your husband, you acted consciously."
"Is it my imagination or, when I say yes to that, you're going to disagree?" Doris crossed her arms, but settled in attentively. She was enjoying this debate much better than dredging up memories, long silted over. "Of course I acted consciously," she replied, trying to goad Arthur with his own word choice. "I knew exactly what I was doing."
"So, it made sense. It was logical."
"I know where you're going with this. Sure, it would have been nice to fall in love with someone and marry him. I know it happens to people, probably quite a bit. I'm not really the Iron Lady of Tulenar everyone's reading about."
"I know you're not. Maybe better than you."
Doris's face flushed. She looked back at the camp and its veil of heat. She looked at the Administration Building and finished her lemonade. "I better get back."
Arthur rose with her. The deep brown of his eyes nearly glowed with warmth, the corner creases deepening, drawing her own eyes toward that warmth.
He said, "The part of you that loved that boy is the part that brought you to Tulenar, Doris. But the part of you sealing off that old pain and failure also seals you off from being who you could really be to the people of this camp. This is our little chunk of the world wide nightmare, Doris, yours and mine. It's up to us to lessen it for others. Let the Takei boy go. You know it's ridiculous to think he had anything to do with Mr. Ataki's murder."
"Damn it, Arthur, I can't. You don't know the whole story and I cannot officially let you in on it, Police Liaison or not."
He stepped closer to her. "Then let me in to you."
How she wanted to, gazing into his oval face. She really did. But, instead, she shook her head, unable to understand how a man so intelligent could blind himself to reality.
"We're in the middle of a snake pit here, Arthur, haven't you noticed? You and I have got to accept the fact that what we...feel...is impossible. I'll say it again. The timing's lousy."
Arthur stiffened. "You're so cock sure you know better than God." He headed toward the steps, but before walking away, he turned back a last time. "Maybe the timing's deliberate, Doris. Maybe it's perfect. It's your perception of it that's lousy."
/ / / /
The day didn't improve much after that. She was on the phone with Milton Eisenhower, again. She officially called off the search for Mrs. Tamura and had to issue a statement to the WRA and the press corps. That, in turn, kept her and poor Harriet busy fending off a barrage of phone calls. And Doris had to clash with Andrew Takei's attorney.
But the clash stopped abruptly when the lawyer said, "Bad enough you people attempt to question young Takei without his mother or me present. But the captain's grisly details of missing brains and a ripped-out heart may cause the boy serious emotional trauma. Serious trauma."
Ripped-out heart. Ripped-out heart. The words wrapped around her brain and squeezed. Pierce must have been bluffing. The captain added that detail, hoping to frighten Andrew into a confession. It had been a bluff on his part, nothing more than a word game. He couldn't know how Mrs. Tamura died. No one knew. Ripped-out heart.
Yet Doris couldn't make herself contact Pierce. She stopped short every time she reached for the telephone. She decided to put it off until the next morning. Yes, wait until then. Wait until she could finally get some sleep, and speak with him rationally.
But, that night, there would be no sleep again. Not after she read the yellowed front pages of four newspapers carefully folded and waiting for her on the floor, just inside her front door.
Chapter 20
Lakeside Assembly Center
Morning. Third Quarter Moon.
Usually, it was Mrs. Tebbe who was ready for a fight. This time it was Max, gripping the telephone receiver like a blunt weapon. As soon as he heard her voice on the other end he snapped, "What the hell do you think you're doing, releasing the Takei boy!"
"Saving the WRA's ass, Captain," Mrs. Tebbe replied. Her voice was brittle. "Don't chew on me, you're the one who put us in the sling. I'm surprised you haven't heard from General DeWitt yet."
"I have, Mrs. Tebbe. Where do you think I got the news? Obviously you weren't going to extend me the courtesy of fair warning."
"The way you courteously informed me that you were going to harass Andrew? I wouldn't have authorized that and you knew it."
"I didn't need your authorization." He let the silence on the phone sizzle a moment. Then he said, "Damn it! A few more days in the stew and he would have given us the man's name. I'm sure of it."
The C.A.'s voice was barely in control now. "We didn't have a few more days. After what you did, Takei's attorney would have had your head and mine served to Roosevelt."
"He would've done no such thing. You honestly think he can take on the United States Government and its Army? Peacetime rules do not apply, Mrs. Tebbe, he knows that. You bought his bluff."
"That's arrogant, Captain. These people still have rights and even if they won't be heard now, they sure as hell will be after the war."
"For chissake. You let the kid go, and he's our only link to the killer."
There was silence over the receiver again, this time, Mrs. Tebbe's doing. "Mrs. Tebbe ... did you hang up on me!"
"I'm here, Captain." Her voice had that brittle edge again.
"I'm coming over."
"I'm busy."
"And, of course, I'm not. I was just sitting on my office floor shooting marbles when I decided to call. I'll be there in twenty."
Goddamn, these civilians!
/ / / /
The drive to Tulenar gave Max time to calm down, though the sight of the press and the pickets, filtered through his fuzzy vision, almost stirred his anger again. But entering Mrs. Tebbe's office, he was jolted out of his dolor and into surprise to see a man sitting in the chair Max himself favored. When Max approached, he could make out Nisei features and a white clerical collar. The minister stood and Max offered his hand, albeit haltingly.
Mrs. Tebbe did the introductions. "Captain Maxwell Pierce, this is the Reverend Mr. Arthur Satsugai."
"How do you do," Satsugai said, his voice mannered and neutral. Yet he added, "So it was you."
Max didn't have to ask what he meant. "Are you involved in this somehow, Reverend?"
"Mister will do. Yes, I'm Police Liaison."
"I see." Max looked to Mrs. Tebbe, who seemed all too content to let things unfold. He returned his attention to Mr. Satsugai. "Sir, I need to speak with the Center Administrator privately."
The minister regarded Max a moment, then deferred to Mrs. Tebbe, the gesture subtle. Max sensed an undercurrent, and he didn't like it.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Satsugai," Mrs. Tebbe said, then looked at Max pointedly, though she was still addressing the minister. "This will only take a minute, I promise. Harriet will get you some tea."
They must associate frequently. There was familiarity in her tone, in spite of her professional bearing. As soon as Satsugai stepped out, Max reclaimed his chair and asked, "Is that the minister you mentioned a while back?"
Mrs. Tebbe ignored the question. "You came here to bitch, Captain. So bitch."
"Where's Andrew Takei now?"
"He's in his mother's custody, of course."
Maxwell shook his head, still filled with frustration. "Damn it, Mrs. Tebbe..."
"Come on, Captain. Where the hell is he going to go?"
"To his shogun, and tell him that we're on to him."
"He could have done that during jail visiting hours. Captain, just take a breath and mull this over. The boy can't go anywhere..."
"The pressure's off now, don't you see that? Where's our leverage, Mrs. Tebbe?" Max couldn't fathom what the woman had been thinking when she agreed to release the Takei boy. He lifted his hands in a gesture of utter bewilderment.
Mrs. Tebbe watched him a moment, her small eyes narrowed in that scrutinizing manner of hers. Once again her tone acquired a brittle edge. For the first time, Max recognized it as a sign of fear. Subtle, but fear nonetheless.
She said, "I've been having some doubts about your theory, Captain."
Max leaned back in his chair but managed to resist crossing his arms. "All right. You've got a more logical scenario?"
Mrs. Tebbe stared at him a moment more before replying, "No. Not really."
"Then why are we having a problem?"
"Because...what you say almost makes sense. Almost. But it's too pat."
Max's stomach knotted, he felt the thin control he had managed all morning threatening to tear. Too pat? As if he were making all this up? As if he were lying?
Maybe Mrs. Tebbe saw this in his eyes. She shifted gears suddenly, asking sympathetically, "Was the general rough on you?"
Max almost snorted with derision, unwilling to accept the gesture. "No, he wasn't, Mrs. Tebbe. Because he trusts me. He was pissed to have heard about it from the outside, damned embarrassed about it in fact, but he sure as hell understands what I'm trying to do here."
The C.A. wasn't exactly contrite, but she did seem to be listening. "Okay, okay. I should have warned you. I knew Eisenhower would call him."
Mrs. Tebbe didn't address the trust issue. Well, then, Max would. "I have been trying since I got here to cooperate with you. And just when I think we've made some headway, you insult my efforts and ignore my judgment. Where does this hostility come from, Mrs. Tebbe? Did a soldier drop you on your head when you were small?"
The set of her mouth and the flush of her cheeks was Max's warning, but before Mrs. Tebbe could explode, the intercom buzzed. The ringside bell, signaling the end of the round.
"Mrs. Tebbe..." Harriet Haku's voice crackled.
"What?"
"Mr. Satsugai asked me to let you know he's leaving..."
"We're almost done in here," the C.A. said hastily. "Ask him to wait."
It was the minister's voice that replied. "It's all right, Mrs. Tebbe. I'll see you at tonight's meeting."
Max saw it. A flash of unabashed disappointment before the C.A. was in control again. And now that her mood was soured even more, Mrs. Tebbe was ready to address Max's remark.
"Eshelmann dropped me on my head on several occasions, Captain. And just when I was beginning to think you might, just might, be different, your fingers get buttery, too. I'm going to have a migraine for weeks, thanks to your little drop. The word around camp must already be spreading that the Army believes the killer is one of them."
"You're the one who's let him go, Mrs. Tebbe."
"Screw you, Pierce!"
"Hey, watch it!"
"I'm not the one who marched in and tormented the boy until his lawyer screamed!"
Max was burning too hot to realize he was out of his chair and leaning across the C.A.'s desk. Not until it was too late. Even his fingertips were fiery. Had Mrs. Tebbe not pulled back, he would have been nose-to-nose with her.
"You don't know," he said, his voice low and deadly, "how important this is."
Max's awareness returned just in time to see the shock on Mrs. Tebbe's face galvanize into a forced, professional calm. Her words were just as forced, spoken slow and clear. Diplomacy laced with threat.
"May I have my desk back. Please."
Max was already pulling back, straightening up. The only thing burning in him now was embarrassment. The only balm for his humiliation was formality.
"Mrs. Tebbe. I apologize. There's nothing I can offer to justify my behavior."
The C.A. rearranged her posture, laying her forearms on the desk and folding her hands. Though she tried to control it, Max saw her fingers tremble as they interlocked.
She cleared her throat and said, "I don't think we should continue today."
"I agree."
He left without another word, glad that the daily bustling within the building had shielded the commotion he had just made. Glad that the C.A.'s secretary had her nose poined toward the typewriter as he passed.
"No. As I said, I admired him and respected him..."
"I mean, ever in your life. Have you ever been in love with anyone?"
His question caught her off guard. She had expected to talk about Abel. But now Arthur was asking about Michael. Good Lord. Michael. She hadn't thought of him in years. She was surprised to find that his memory still stung a little.
"I...it's hard to say," Doris replied, trying to trivialize the romance. To, in effect, lie. "Maybe. There was this student from a nearby college. We met when I was a freshman and broke up before I was a junior."
"What happened?"
"Oh...restrictions, one thing. Sarah Lawrence is a women's college. But, really, it was just youth. Somebody'd already hurt him in his senior year of high school. He told me his steady had gotten in 'trouble.' But not with him." She leaned back in the swing. "That had to be a jolt to deal with so young. For both of them. By the time he and I met, he was too skittish, too bitter. A pity, to be that way at that age. It ended badly."
"Was that why you married the senator?"
Doris smiled at his assumption. "No, good Heavens, no. I didn't meet Abel until a year after graduation. By the time I met my husband, the break up with Michael wasn't much more to me than a lesson about avoiding career distractions."
"You think so?"
"What is this, are you Freud now? I didn't fool myself into thinking I was in love with Abel. I knew it and he knew it. It was a good marriage, Arthur. We had our ups and downs, but we did have a love of sorts. Yes, we did."
"So you're certain that, because you didn't fool yourself into thinking you loved your husband, you acted consciously."
"Is it my imagination or, when I say yes to that, you're going to disagree?" Doris crossed her arms, but settled in attentively. She was enjoying this debate much better than dredging up memories, long silted over. "Of course I acted consciously," she replied, trying to goad Arthur with his own word choice. "I knew exactly what I was doing."
"So, it made sense. It was logical."
"I know where you're going with this. Sure, it would have been nice to fall in love with someone and marry him. I know it happens to people, probably quite a bit. I'm not really the Iron Lady of Tulenar everyone's reading about."
"I know you're not. Maybe better than you."
Doris's face flushed. She looked back at the camp and its veil of heat. She looked at the Administration Building and finished her lemonade. "I better get back."
Arthur rose with her. The deep brown of his eyes nearly glowed with warmth, the corner creases deepening, drawing her own eyes toward that warmth.
He said, "The part of you that loved that boy is the part that brought you to Tulenar, Doris. But the part of you sealing off that old pain and failure also seals you off from being who you could really be to the people of this camp. This is our little chunk of the world wide nightmare, Doris, yours and mine. It's up to us to lessen it for others. Let the Takei boy go. You know it's ridiculous to think he had anything to do with Mr. Ataki's murder."
"Damn it, Arthur, I can't. You don't know the whole story and I cannot officially let you in on it, Police Liaison or not."
He stepped closer to her. "Then let me in to you."
How she wanted to, gazing into his oval face. She really did. But, instead, she shook her head, unable to understand how a man so intelligent could blind himself to reality.
"We're in the middle of a snake pit here, Arthur, haven't you noticed? You and I have got to accept the fact that what we...feel...is impossible. I'll say it again. The timing's lousy."
Arthur stiffened. "You're so cock sure you know better than God." He headed toward the steps, but before walking away, he turned back a last time. "Maybe the timing's deliberate, Doris. Maybe it's perfect. It's your perception of it that's lousy."
/ / / /
The day didn't improve much after that. She was on the phone with Milton Eisenhower, again. She officially called off the search for Mrs. Tamura and had to issue a statement to the WRA and the press corps. That, in turn, kept her and poor Harriet busy fending off a barrage of phone calls. And Doris had to clash with Andrew Takei's attorney.
But the clash stopped abruptly when the lawyer said, "Bad enough you people attempt to question young Takei without his mother or me present. But the captain's grisly details of missing brains and a ripped-out heart may cause the boy serious emotional trauma. Serious trauma."
Ripped-out heart. Ripped-out heart. The words wrapped around her brain and squeezed. Pierce must have been bluffing. The captain added that detail, hoping to frighten Andrew into a confession. It had been a bluff on his part, nothing more than a word game. He couldn't know how Mrs. Tamura died. No one knew. Ripped-out heart.
Yet Doris couldn't make herself contact Pierce. She stopped short every time she reached for the telephone. She decided to put it off until the next morning. Yes, wait until then. Wait until she could finally get some sleep, and speak with him rationally.
But, that night, there would be no sleep again. Not after she read the yellowed front pages of four newspapers carefully folded and waiting for her on the floor, just inside her front door.
Chapter 20
Lakeside Assembly Center
Morning. Third Quarter Moon.
Usually, it was Mrs. Tebbe who was ready for a fight. This time it was Max, gripping the telephone receiver like a blunt weapon. As soon as he heard her voice on the other end he snapped, "What the hell do you think you're doing, releasing the Takei boy!"
"Saving the WRA's ass, Captain," Mrs. Tebbe replied. Her voice was brittle. "Don't chew on me, you're the one who put us in the sling. I'm surprised you haven't heard from General DeWitt yet."
"I have, Mrs. Tebbe. Where do you think I got the news? Obviously you weren't going to extend me the courtesy of fair warning."
"The way you courteously informed me that you were going to harass Andrew? I wouldn't have authorized that and you knew it."
"I didn't need your authorization." He let the silence on the phone sizzle a moment. Then he said, "Damn it! A few more days in the stew and he would have given us the man's name. I'm sure of it."
The C.A.'s voice was barely in control now. "We didn't have a few more days. After what you did, Takei's attorney would have had your head and mine served to Roosevelt."
"He would've done no such thing. You honestly think he can take on the United States Government and its Army? Peacetime rules do not apply, Mrs. Tebbe, he knows that. You bought his bluff."
"That's arrogant, Captain. These people still have rights and even if they won't be heard now, they sure as hell will be after the war."
"For chissake. You let the kid go, and he's our only link to the killer."
There was silence over the receiver again, this time, Mrs. Tebbe's doing. "Mrs. Tebbe ... did you hang up on me!"
"I'm here, Captain." Her voice had that brittle edge again.
"I'm coming over."
"I'm busy."
"And, of course, I'm not. I was just sitting on my office floor shooting marbles when I decided to call. I'll be there in twenty."
Goddamn, these civilians!
/ / / /
The drive to Tulenar gave Max time to calm down, though the sight of the press and the pickets, filtered through his fuzzy vision, almost stirred his anger again. But entering Mrs. Tebbe's office, he was jolted out of his dolor and into surprise to see a man sitting in the chair Max himself favored. When Max approached, he could make out Nisei features and a white clerical collar. The minister stood and Max offered his hand, albeit haltingly.
Mrs. Tebbe did the introductions. "Captain Maxwell Pierce, this is the Reverend Mr. Arthur Satsugai."
"How do you do," Satsugai said, his voice mannered and neutral. Yet he added, "So it was you."
Max didn't have to ask what he meant. "Are you involved in this somehow, Reverend?"
"Mister will do. Yes, I'm Police Liaison."
"I see." Max looked to Mrs. Tebbe, who seemed all too content to let things unfold. He returned his attention to Mr. Satsugai. "Sir, I need to speak with the Center Administrator privately."
The minister regarded Max a moment, then deferred to Mrs. Tebbe, the gesture subtle. Max sensed an undercurrent, and he didn't like it.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Satsugai," Mrs. Tebbe said, then looked at Max pointedly, though she was still addressing the minister. "This will only take a minute, I promise. Harriet will get you some tea."
They must associate frequently. There was familiarity in her tone, in spite of her professional bearing. As soon as Satsugai stepped out, Max reclaimed his chair and asked, "Is that the minister you mentioned a while back?"
Mrs. Tebbe ignored the question. "You came here to bitch, Captain. So bitch."
"Where's Andrew Takei now?"
"He's in his mother's custody, of course."
Maxwell shook his head, still filled with frustration. "Damn it, Mrs. Tebbe..."
"Come on, Captain. Where the hell is he going to go?"
"To his shogun, and tell him that we're on to him."
"He could have done that during jail visiting hours. Captain, just take a breath and mull this over. The boy can't go anywhere..."
"The pressure's off now, don't you see that? Where's our leverage, Mrs. Tebbe?" Max couldn't fathom what the woman had been thinking when she agreed to release the Takei boy. He lifted his hands in a gesture of utter bewilderment.
Mrs. Tebbe watched him a moment, her small eyes narrowed in that scrutinizing manner of hers. Once again her tone acquired a brittle edge. For the first time, Max recognized it as a sign of fear. Subtle, but fear nonetheless.
She said, "I've been having some doubts about your theory, Captain."
Max leaned back in his chair but managed to resist crossing his arms. "All right. You've got a more logical scenario?"
Mrs. Tebbe stared at him a moment more before replying, "No. Not really."
"Then why are we having a problem?"
"Because...what you say almost makes sense. Almost. But it's too pat."
Max's stomach knotted, he felt the thin control he had managed all morning threatening to tear. Too pat? As if he were making all this up? As if he were lying?
Maybe Mrs. Tebbe saw this in his eyes. She shifted gears suddenly, asking sympathetically, "Was the general rough on you?"
Max almost snorted with derision, unwilling to accept the gesture. "No, he wasn't, Mrs. Tebbe. Because he trusts me. He was pissed to have heard about it from the outside, damned embarrassed about it in fact, but he sure as hell understands what I'm trying to do here."
The C.A. wasn't exactly contrite, but she did seem to be listening. "Okay, okay. I should have warned you. I knew Eisenhower would call him."
Mrs. Tebbe didn't address the trust issue. Well, then, Max would. "I have been trying since I got here to cooperate with you. And just when I think we've made some headway, you insult my efforts and ignore my judgment. Where does this hostility come from, Mrs. Tebbe? Did a soldier drop you on your head when you were small?"
The set of her mouth and the flush of her cheeks was Max's warning, but before Mrs. Tebbe could explode, the intercom buzzed. The ringside bell, signaling the end of the round.
"Mrs. Tebbe..." Harriet Haku's voice crackled.
"What?"
"Mr. Satsugai asked me to let you know he's leaving..."
"We're almost done in here," the C.A. said hastily. "Ask him to wait."
It was the minister's voice that replied. "It's all right, Mrs. Tebbe. I'll see you at tonight's meeting."
Max saw it. A flash of unabashed disappointment before the C.A. was in control again. And now that her mood was soured even more, Mrs. Tebbe was ready to address Max's remark.
"Eshelmann dropped me on my head on several occasions, Captain. And just when I was beginning to think you might, just might, be different, your fingers get buttery, too. I'm going to have a migraine for weeks, thanks to your little drop. The word around camp must already be spreading that the Army believes the killer is one of them."
"You're the one who's let him go, Mrs. Tebbe."
"Screw you, Pierce!"
"Hey, watch it!"
"I'm not the one who marched in and tormented the boy until his lawyer screamed!"
Max was burning too hot to realize he was out of his chair and leaning across the C.A.'s desk. Not until it was too late. Even his fingertips were fiery. Had Mrs. Tebbe not pulled back, he would have been nose-to-nose with her.
"You don't know," he said, his voice low and deadly, "how important this is."
Max's awareness returned just in time to see the shock on Mrs. Tebbe's face galvanize into a forced, professional calm. Her words were just as forced, spoken slow and clear. Diplomacy laced with threat.
"May I have my desk back. Please."
Max was already pulling back, straightening up. The only thing burning in him now was embarrassment. The only balm for his humiliation was formality.
"Mrs. Tebbe. I apologize. There's nothing I can offer to justify my behavior."
The C.A. rearranged her posture, laying her forearms on the desk and folding her hands. Though she tried to control it, Max saw her fingers tremble as they interlocked.
She cleared her throat and said, "I don't think we should continue today."
"I agree."
He left without another word, glad that the daily bustling within the building had shielded the commotion he had just made. Glad that the C.A.'s secretary had her nose poined toward the typewriter as he passed.
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