Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda (28 page)

I tried to find Culp after Bert was killed. I’d heard about some cute things that Bert had done in the service and I wanted to verify them. I’m positive they were together because Bert told me that if I wanted to marry Culp it was all right with him. He said Culp was better looking than he was. I didn’t think so.

No man was ever more handsome than Bert, before that accident, to me. Bert said that he only wanted me to be happy, and I wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t love him. He said he knew I loved him, but I couldn’t help it if I loved someone else more. I didn’t. I was fond of Culp, but I didn’t love him, or at least not the way I loved Bert.

I hope you will forgive me if I repeat myself. I’ve written you several letters and destroyed them, so I’m not certain what I may or may not have told you.

When I came to Bridgetown, it was not with the intention of staying. George had promised me that he would get a job in Benson and we could live there. I’ve been afraid all these last twenty years. I watch a lot of TV, too. I think I’d have lost my mind without it years ago. I’m married to a stupid man. Most of the time I don’t even speak to him, and when I do, it generally concerns finances.

I told you I was shy. Bert said no two people were ever more alike than we were. I have only seen Bert’s grave once because I cry so hard I get sick. I’m crying now, just thinking about it.

When I came back to George, it was supposed to be on a temporary basis. I wanted to make it work, but it never did. He has always had his girlfriends and at one time even expected me to entertain one. She made me sick. I guess I haven’t enough jealousy in me.

I was only ever jealous once in my life and that was over Bert. I guess you have to care a lot about someone before you can be jealous of them. With Bert it was a fleeting thing and nothing he had anything to do with. A woman told me she’d divorce her husband any day in the week for Bert Grayson. I don’t know why God lets such people as Clay and Zale live either. Maybe the devil has more to do with it than we realize.

I see by the paper that a new unit was formed to fight crime. I was wondering if it might not be a good idea to send them a couple chapters of my book. It tells how I happened to be sure of what I know. I had no positive proof of some of it until last summer. My informants are scared to death of me now.

I hope you’ve some protection. Do you have a good watchdog? I have six. Someone might kill one or two, but they couldn’t kill them all without getting bitten. I’d buy a gun, only I’m afraid I might be tempted to use it on someone. I don’t mean that really. I put myself in the state hospital to keep from it at one time, though. I’d have really lost my mind if I hadn’t. When I was out there I saw people who were withdrawn and envied them. I thought it would be wonderful not to know where I was or why I was there.

Anything I may have told you in this won’t get you in danger unless you repeat it. It won’t hurt you as long as no one knows you know it. Don’t trust anyone I sent a partial chapter to, the P.D., the Mayor, and D.A. I may have told you, I only mentioned Clay’s name and nothing about the police department.

Cain told me that Zale was the rottenest man he ever knew. He said that most of the men were decent honorable men, but they couldn’t do a good job as long as Zale was on the force.

He blackmailed them, and if they wouldn’t be blackmailed he had them killed.

Among the proof of the material I got was a listing of two policemen who had died. Cain told me the paper called them heart attacks. Officer Crooks was supposed to have been poisoned, but no one had proof. Officer Irvin died a week later. He was found on the street with a lump on his head. No one could find out the names of the men who found him, and the coroner said he died of a heart attack. There wasn’t even a doctor’s signature on his death certificate.

After Bert’s death several more died of heart attacks, and one of them had been out here when I found footprints in the snow. I was frightened. I thought the black man at the cleaners had made them. I wanted it stopped.

Miss Grayson, I honestly don’t think you knew your brother any better than my family knew me. We’re the kind of people who keep the things that hurt us deep inside. I don’t mean that unkindly. You couldn’t understand anything you didn’t know about.

It’s a long story and a sad one. It’s hard to explain in a letter. You’ll have to read the book to know what went on. I can make myself clearer that way.

In any event, be careful. I don’t want anything more on my conscience. I could have prevented a lot of deaths if I had told Bert what I knew. He would have known what to do about it. When Bert was killed, Cain’s picture was in the paper. That’s why Cain’s dead now. The world is better off without yellow curs like he was. He won’t lure anyone else to their deaths.

Thank you for writing to me. The reason I don’t call you is because I never know what to say on the phone. All I’m any good for is to answer questions. I don’t want to get killed until my book is finished. After that it doesn’t matter.

If you didn’t know about me, I’ll bet you thought I was some kind of nut when I wrote you those first letters. I thought everyone knew. Was the nephew who was on the Baltimore police force Hap’s nephew? If he was, he knew about me. I met him at Hap’s mothers when I was married to Hap.

Would you believe that the P.D. put the pressure on George after Bert was killed? They did, and Zale was one of the men who questioned him. George was working at the time and had to prove it. If I thought George had anything to do with such a thing, the police wouldn’t have gotten a chance to question him. I’d have killed him myself. A lot of the men who worked with Bert thought George might have had something to do with it. I knew better. George is a heel, but he’s no murderer. He didn’t even know Cain or Clay, and he’s as afraid as I am. That’s why he quit drinking.

Sincerely,

Lillian

P.S. I know it’s none of my business, but are you living in the house Bert started to build? Or didn’t he ever finish it? I’m inclined to think he did. I saw it and it was similar to a house that I had once described to him.

                                       LETTER 9

                                 Florida 1980

Dear Elizabeth,

I’m sorry to be so late in thanking you for the lovely Easter card. I’ve been busy. You probably know how it is. It’s not much fun to have to do practically everything alone.

My graduation class is having its fifty-year anniversary Sept. 6 at the Elks in Benson. I don’t know if I can get up or not. It depends on if I can get someone reliable to look after my pets.

My Siamese cat is totally blind now, and I have a deaf cat, too. I don’t let these animals outside at all, and many people wouldn’t want to bother with litter boxes. I’d try to get up harder if the reunion was a month later. I’d love to see the leaves turn.

The last time I saw Bert I had been to the doctor with my back. We went into a restaurant while we were waiting for the bus. It was the Coney Hot Dog Diner and he was in there. I didn’t go back to talk to him because I was wearing black and white oxfords and a fur coat. I was embarrassed by my appearance, and I could only wear those shoes because they had flat heels and didn’t hurt my back too much. I’ve wished a thousand times that I’d gone back and talked to him, but wishing doesn’t help a bit.

Well, take good care of yourself and write when you can. I hope you soon get to feeling better.

P.S. My book was never published, but I put the manuscript in a safe deposit box at my bank, along with what was left of my dad’s estate that I inherited when he died. I also put the jewelry that George’s mother left him when she passed. The diamond ring and ruby necklace are valuable. His dad was a coin collector, and there are about one hundred gold and silver coins.

I didn’t keep them for sentimental reasons; I kept them in case I needed money I could sell them.

Everything should be safe there. I put the key to the safe deposit box in an envelope and put it in a safe place.

Love never dies; it just mellows with age. Friends and lovers help hide what we hold dear. Bert has always held the secrets to my heart. As he protected them in life, he will protect them in death. Oh, well, at least the manuscript is in a safe place now. In a place where I know that old coot Robert Mason won’t be able to get his fingers on it.

Love,

Lilly