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Authors: Faye Kellerman

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BOOK: Grievous Sin
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“She was hearing voices?”

Decker said, “Could be.”

Marge said, “Well then, suppose the voice also told her about another pregnancy that once ruined her entire life—Bellson getting pregnant by Pop. Too much trauma for her to deal with. She quit modeling, moved out West, and began to eat her anxiety away. Soon she had ballooned to three hundred pounds.”

Decker said, “Wow!”

“Food is love,” Marge said. “Then she met Marie. And…”

“And what?”

“And I don’t know. I’m asking you.”

“I don’t know, either,” Decker said. “They became best friends? Like you said before, it doesn’t make sense. Tandy should have
hated
Marie.”

“Unless
demon child
suddenly reappeared as demon young adult. And the woman began to have demented conversations with herself. Saying things like, I’m going to find and screw Marie Bellson if it’s the last thing I do.”

Decker said, “So you’re assuming Tandy recognized Marie Bellson as the evil woman who caused her parents’ divorce twenty years ago. Marge, Tandy was only
five.

“Maybe Tandy didn’t recognize her face, but she recognized the name. Maybe Mom never let her forget it.”

Decker held up a finger. “You know, it could be it was the other way around. Maybe
Marie
recognized
Tandy.
She was the adult twenty years ago. Certainly, she’d have recognized Tandy’s name if she had an affair with her father.”

Marge nodded. “Then Marie saw this young, obese schizo woman who was once the cute little daughter of a man she’d loved. It tugged on her heartstrings. Bellson took Tandy in as if she were her own—making up for the past, so to speak.”


Especially
if we assume the kid Marie lost—or aborted—was Geoffrey Roberts’s child,” Decker said.

“Maybe they both recognized each other, but neither one said anything. Both keeping the skeletons inside the closet. Marie out of guilt, Tandy out of crazed hatred.”

“Then what happened?” Decker said.

“Tandy had a false pregnancy,” Marge went on. “She longed for a baby. But being more than a little nuts, she took one from
Marie’s
nursery. Because she knew Marie wouldn’t fink on her
out of guilt.

Decker said, “Sounds good except
Tandy’s still here acting normal.
Where are Marie and the baby?”

Both of them were silent.

“Our theories hinge on a link between Marie and Geoffrey Roberts,” Decker continued. “Marie’s gone, but maybe Geoff’s still around. Let’s make a few calls to Berkeley. Let our fingers do the walking. Cheaper than a trip up north. The department would approve.”

Marge nodded. “You know, Pete, if Tandy is really a certified psycho, we’ll never get a conviction even if she did murder Lily.”

“A conviction isn’t what concerns me at the moment. If the voice told her to kidnap and kill once, it can tell her to kill again.”

“The baby?”

“The baby.”

It was cool.

She was in control.

She was in control.

Police can’t get her.

She was saved.

Jesus saved her.

Jesus loved her.

Jesus loved everyone.

He loved good and bad. Friend and foe.

Even Auntie.

Even the
voices
!

Jesus loved
her
, ’cause she had the control.

 

Marge hung up the phone and called out, “Got us a minor problem, Rabbi.”

Decker emerged from the kitchen, cradling Hannah with one hand, shaking a bottle of sugar water with the other. “What now?”

“According to Berkeley’s payroll department, the last paycheck made out to Geoffrey Roberts was over two years ago. The secretary gave me Roberts’s last-known home address and telephone number. Guess what?”

“It’s out-of-date.”

“No current address in the Bay Area, no forwarding ad
dress, either. I called the squad room and asked MacPherson to see if he could get Geoffrey Roberts on-line with the computer. I’ve also called Santa Cruz and Davis, thinking maybe he switched to another UC campus in northern California. So far, nothing.”

Decker sat down on his sofa and offered a sugar-coated nipple to Hannah. She accepted it eagerly. “When’s MacPherson due to call back?”

“Any minute.”

The phone rang.

“How’s that for predicting the future?” Marge picked up the receiver, listened, and laughed. “It’s one of your sons.”

Taking the phone with his free hand, Decker winked. “So much for your powers of the supernatural.” Into the receiver, he said, “Yo. Hey, Sam, what’s up…what time will you be done? Sure I can pick you guys up. No prob. She’s fine. Hannah’s fine, too. How was schoo—Okay, I understand. We’ll talk later. Love you both.”

Decker hung up. Marge kicked off her shoes and placed her bare feet on the ottoman. “Did I tell you that Morrison scheduled a meeting with the feds and us tomorrow morning at ten?”

Decker was silent. Then he said, “Well, we’re going nowhere. All we have at this point is a couple of lame theories.”

“I think of them as inventive,” Marge said.

Decker smiled at his little daughter. “At least we’ve got theories. With no way to verify them unless we find Professor Geoff.”

The phone rang again. Marge picked it up. It was Paul MacPherson.

“I got Geoffrey Roberts on the monitor—his Social Security number, his tax I.D…. all that stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s gonna do you any good.”

“Why’s that, Paul?”

“Last known address on his tax statement was the one
you gave me in Berkeley, Marge. It appears that Mr. Roberts hasn’t filed taxes since he left the bastion of radicalism.”

Marge swore under her breath and recapped the message to Decker. Into the phone, she said, “He must be living on some income. Some pension or something. Even if he’s just living off the interest from his savings, you’ve got to pay taxes on them. Banks send statements on interest-bearing accounts to the IRS.”

“Well, the computer doesn’t have anything listed,” MacPherson said.

“Did the guy die?” Decker suggested. Marge relayed the question to MacPherson.

“Tell the Rabbi I’m one step ahead of him. I can’t find a death certificate. What you got is a phantom.”

“Thanks for trying, Paul.” Marge cut the line. “He says we’ve got a phantom.”

“Maybe Tandy knows where he is.”

“Should we ask her?”

“No.”
Decker was emphatic. “If she’s nuts, she might bolt or do worse. I don’t want to spook her. We’ll tell our suspicions to the feds and let them decide if they want to question her. We’ve still got a couple of hours to handle the case the way
we
want to do it.”

Marge said, “From the summary Cindy gave me of her conversation with Tandy, it sounded like Tandy thought her dad was still in Berkeley.”

“Marge,
someone
in the English department at Berkeley had to have
known
him.”

Rummaging through her notes, Marge found the phone number of Berkeley and asked for the English department. Ten minutes later, after a half-dozen false starts, she was put on hold once again.

“I’m waiting for them to locate a guy named Bert Stine. He used to team-teach with Geoffrey Roberts.”

“Good,” Decker said. “Did you ever get through to Stan Meecham?”

“Yep. And as you predicted, the doctor wasn’t happy to talk to me. But he did explain the condition to me. And after considerable hemming and hawing, he admitted that Marie did bring Tandy to his office. He only admitted that because he said Tandy never returned, so officially he doesn’t consider her a patient.”

“When did Marie bring her in?”

“Around two years ago…in November. Back when she and Marie were as thick as thieves.”

“So tell me about pseudocyesis.”

“The way he described it, it sounds like an unconscious mental thing. The woman actually convinces herself she’s pregnant. She stops menstruating, her breasts and cervix enlarge, she can even experience morning sickness. It’s usually found in adolescents, but not exclusively—”

Marge held out the palm of her hand and spoke into the phone.

“Professor Stine? This is Detective Dunn of the Los Angeles Police Depart—No, no one is in trouble. I’m just trying to locate Professor Geoffrey Roberts, and I understand you used to team-teach with him?”

Decker looked at her expectantly. Marge rolled her eyes.

“No, I can assure you he’s not in any trouble…at least as far as my business is concerned.”

Marge gnashed her teeth.

“No, I’m not deliberately
prying
into anyone’s affairs. At the moment, I’m just trying to
locate
him…. No, I don’t
know
if he’s missing…. No, Professor Stine, we don’t think he’s dead. At least we haven’t found a death certificate for him. Do you happen to know where he went after he retired from Berkeley?…Well, then after he
left.
…”

Again Marge waited.

“Unfortunately, Professor, the nature of my business with him is official. But believe me, I’m not out to cause him any grief. If you could just help me out. Please, it could be very important. Sure, I’ll hold.”

Decker said, “He’s giving you a hard time?”

“A bit police-shy.”

“At least he hasn’t slammed the receiver in your ear.”

“I take that as a very good sign,” Marge said. “Hi, Professor…He moved to Los Angeles? Do you know
where
in L.A.? No, no, no, that’s okay. That’s a start. I take it you haven’t heard from Professor Roberts in the last two…No, that’s okay. If he’s currently residing in Los Angeles, we’ll find him…No, he’s not in trouble. I do appreciate your help. Thank you very much. Good-bye.”

“He’s here?” Decker said.

“Stine wasn’t absolutely sure that Roberts moved to L.A., but he sounded reasonably certain.” Marge stopped talking, then said, “You know, Pete? To hear Stine talk, his tone of voice, it sounded to me like Roberts left Berkeley under a cloud.”

Decker gently placed Hannah over his shoulder. “Tandy’s father moves to L.A. and becomes a phantom. Marie is Tandy’s friend, and she’s suddenly a phantom. And we still don’t have a thing on
her.

“First let’s find Geoff,” Marge said.

Decker knew she was right. “Okay. If you were an English prof, where would you live in the area?”

“Near a major university,” Marge said. “I’ll check the phone books around UCLA, USC, Cal State Northridge, Cal State Long Beach, Cal State Fullerton…in other words, the whole damn area.” She stood and smoothed her gray slacks. “You coming with me to the station house?”

“You go ahead. I have to wait for Hannah to burp, then I have to finish her feeding.” He smiled. “I don’t
have
to finish feeding her. I
want
to finish feeding her. And if the FBI doesn’t like it, tough shit!”

 

Frustrated and defeated, Decker slid into bed. It was after midnight Friday morning—the Sabbath about twenty hours away. Now he realized why God made a day of rest. He lay
on his back, eyes focused on the ceiling, staring at a cobweb that caught the glint of moonlight. He felt a warm hand touch his arm.

“Is she up?” Rina croaked out.

“Who? Hannah?”

“Yes. Is she up?”

“No, honey. Everyone’s asleep. Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet.”

Rina turned and faced him. “You didn’t wake me, my breasts did. I just got another milk letdown.”

“You want me to nurse to relieve the pressure?”

Rina smiled. Decker could see it even in the dark. He said, “You want to express your milk in a bottle. I’ll be happy to feed her so you can sleep.”

“S’right. I
love
feeding her,” Rina said.

Decker was silent. Rina could tell he was disappointed. The baby was a big source of joy for her. No doubt she created pure love in Peter as well.

Rina said, “I suppose I could use the rest. Hand me a bottle and my breast pump.”

Decker got up and gave Rina the nursing accoutrements. “Might as well do something useful.”

“You’re sounding like me.” Rina sighed. “You’re upset. Talk, Peter.”

Decker was silent.

“Please?”

Decker smiled at her. “Morrison decided to turn the case over to the FBI. It’s a kidnapping, it’s his prerogative. Officially, I can still work on the case, but when there’s more than one agency, we step all over each other’s toes. I’ll let them handle it. It’ll be out of my hands.”

“You don’t sound relieved.”

“What can I do?” He shrugged. “I’ll give them my notes and my theories—see if they can shed some light on what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Aw, the heck with it. It’s only work.” Decker smiled. “Main thing is, we’ve got a beautiful family.”

Rina returned his smile. “I’m looking forward to the
shalom nikevah
brunch for Hannah on Sunday. Everybody I’ve spoken to sounds so excited.”

“Brunch…you didn’t
cancel
it?”

“No. Why should I? The caterer is handling everything….”

“Rina—”

“Peter, this is my
last
baby! Forever! I’ve done nothing but grieve. Now I want to
celebrate
! Nothing is going to dissuade me!”

“I’m stuck?”

“You’re stuck.”

Decker ran his hands over his face. “I think you’re crazy for doing this.”

“Of course I’m crazy. I’m irrational. I don’t care.”

Decker laughed. “You’re smiling. It’s good to see you happy.”

Rina stopped filling the bottle with breast milk and put it down on the nightstand. “Happy? Let’s not overdo it.” She smiled. “What would make
you
happy?”

Decker thought about that one. “I’d really like another week on the case.”


Talk
to Morrison, Peter. Maybe he’ll give you a few more days.”

“I would if I had something concrete. I can’t even find the guy I’m looking for. Marge and I have tried every phone book in the entire southwest region of the state clear down to Baja California. I can’t look up every phone book in the country. I’m so damn frustrated!” Decker blew out air. “Ah, don’t worry about me, Rina. I’ve got a couple days off next week before I start Homicide in Devonshire. I’m not going to waste them brooding.”

Both of them heard a little peep from the living room. Decker bounced out of bed. “I’ll feed her.” He snatched the
bottle from Rina’s nightstand. “I’ve got fresh warm milk and everything.”

“Bring her in here,” Rina said. “We’ll talk while you feed her.”

“That’ll be nice.” Decker kissed his wife’s cheek. “You can tell me all about the brunch…tell me how many rabbis are going to bore us to death.”

Rina laughed. “Just Rabbi Schulman…and maybe a few others….”

“I
knew
it!”

“Friends of the family. How can I not let them say a few words?”

“Knew it! Knew it!
Knew it!
” Decker left the room and came back with a bundle in his arms. “Somebody’s wet and hungry. Feed first, then change?”

“I think that’s the order of business.”

Decker sat and rocked his daughter in his arms as she devoured the bottle of breast milk. A gift so soft and warm…The case would have suddenly seemed meaningless, except there was another bundle out there….

Still, there was no crime in being grateful for what you had.

“So I really have to put up with all these rabbis’ enlightening words of wisdom?”

Rina thought a moment. “You may doze off during the speeches, Peter. That’s acceptable. But you may not snore. It’s déclassé.”

 

Decker grabbed the receiver with shaky, sleep-deprived hands.

Marge said, “Wake-up call.”

He looked at the clock. “Do you know what time it is?”

“’Bout quarter to six.”

“Obviously, something’s on your mind.”

“Obviously.”

“Hold on,” Decker whispered. “Let me put on a bathrobe and take the call in the other room.”

He’d been wondering when the fatigue was going to catch up with him, and now he could stop his ruminations. His eyes were heavy, his stomach a whirlpool of acid. He ached from muscles he never knew he had. He picked up the phone in the kitchen.

Marge said, “Remember when I spoke to Bert Stine, I told you it sounded to me as if Geoffrey Roberts left Berkeley under suspicious conditions?”

“Yeah?”

“So what if Roberts has been using an alias?”

“Roberts doesn’t have a record.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do something wrong. It just means he hasn’t gotten caught.”

“Well, if he’s using an alias and has started over with a new Social Security number, profession, etcetera, etcetera, we’re not going to find him unless he gets caught for something else.”

“Pete, remember I said something about Roberts originally being Cuban?”

“So?”

“I think Cindy mentioned that Roberts changed his name to Anglicize himself. What if he went back to using his original name?”

Decker thought about it. “We can’t ask Tandy what the original name was.”

BOOK: Grievous Sin
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