The Theory of Death (8 page)

Read The Theory of Death Online

Authors: Faye Kellerman

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense

BOOK: The Theory of Death
11.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The main house was polished-looking—three stories fashioned from whitewood siding and fieldstone—and fronted by a dirt driveway that held an old, black Lincoln Town Car. Decker parked behind the car, killed the motor, and he and Rina walked up to the front door. He knocked and a woman in her late forties or early fifties answered the door. She was around five-foot-five, with blue eyes, apple cheeks, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Small wrinkles and spiderweb lines framed her mouth and her eyes. She wore a long brown dress with long sleeves. Most of her light brown hair was tucked into some kind of netting.

Rina had on a green sweater and a denim skirt that covered her knees and black fashion boots. Her dark hair had been secured under a black beret. While the two women weren’t dressed similarly, they both were dressed modestly. Decker took out his identification. “I’m Detective Decker of the Greenbury Police Department.”

The woman nodded with her eyes on Rina’s face. “You’re here to talk about Elijah.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss and I’m also sorry to intrude at this time. But it’s better if we talk now. This is my wife, Rina Decker.”

Rina held out her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Wolf.”

“Ruth Anne.” The woman touched Rina’s hand with barely any pressure. “Come in, please.” Leading them into a small and immaculately clean and homey living room, she pointed to a sofa upholstered in a soft, muted orange print. “Can I get either of you some tea or coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Decker said.

She turned to Rina. “Mrs. Decker?”

“It’s Rina and tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Five minutes later, she came out carrying a tray. She poured tea for both Rina and Decker. “Just in case, Detective.”

“Thank you.”

She gave a brief smile. “My husband and son should be in soon. I’m making lunch. We adhere to a strict schedule, otherwise things don’t get done.”

“Can I help?” Rina asked.

Ruth Anne looked at her. “Forgive my boldness, but you’re Jewish, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re dressed differently than the others.”

“You mean like the Jews in Squaretown? Yes, I do dress differently from them.”

“I was thinking more like the Jews in Monsey.”

“Jews run the gamut in their religiosity. Some might consider me fanatical, while others would consider me heretical.”

“I can understand that.”

“I came along to keep Detective Decker company.” Rina stood, teacup in hand. “Perhaps it would be better for him to talk to your husband without my presence. Let me help you in the kitchen. It’s probably a place where we’re both familiar.”

The woman nodded. “Of course.”

Rina gave a quick glance to Decker and followed Ruth Anne into the kitchen. The woman immediately picked up a knife and began chopping vegetables for a salad. Rina said, “Would you like me to do that?”

Ruth Anne immediately put down the knife and turned her back to Rina. She placed her hand over her eyes. Rina couldn’t hear her crying but she could see her shoulders heaving. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m …” Ruth Anne waved her hand in the air. “I’m fine.” She pivoted back, her still eyes wet. “I’m all right. Yes, you can chop the vegetables. Put them in the bowl. My men like a big salad.”

Silence ensued for the next minute. As Rina chopped, Ruth Anne took out a pan and four chops. She said, “How many children do you have?”

“Between the two of us, we have four children. They’re all grown.”

“Married?”

“Two married, two are engaged. We also have a foster son who has parents but stayed with us for around three years. We’re still very close. And you?”

“Five.” A pause. “We had five children. Elijah was number two.”

“I heard he was a brilliant boy.”

“He was always bright.”

Rina nodded and began dicing a tomato.

“Bright … but not brilliant, at least not right away.” Ruth Anne looked up at the ceiling. “Elijah changed when he was fourteen. He was riding in the backseat of a car, along with his older brother and a friend who was driving.” A long pause. “It was a terrible accident. The driver was killed and my eldest son, Jacob, broke his left leg. But he was otherwise okay, praise God. Elijah was wearing a seat belt but there was impact. He was in a coma for two weeks. We almost lost him. It was touch and go.”

She recited the story with a flat voice. Rina said, “That must have been so earth-shattering.”

“At the time, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to a parent. Now I see I was wrong.” Ruth Anne put the chops in an oiled pan.

From the aroma, Rina knew it was pork. She kept chopping vegetables, but stopped drinking the tea. Even though it was silly, it was hard to be around the smell.

“Elijah changed after that,” Ruth Anne continued. “Before the accident, he was friendly, popular, and outgoing. Afterward, he became withdrawn and quiet. Very uncommunicative. He buried himself in a world of numbers.”

She flipped the meat over. Grease splattered on the stove top.

“My husband is a very laconic man. He always thought that Elijah was a frivolous boy. He and Elijah used to butt heads all the time. After the accident, my husband was pleased with the change in his attitude. He thought the accident had shook some sense into the boy, showed him that the world wasn’t a silly place. He was pleased that Elijah had become so serious.” She shook her head. “But I knew something was wrong. Elijah wouldn’t talk to me except to say he was fine and his perspective had changed.” A pause. “He stopped going out. He stopped seeing his friends. He stopped doing anything social.”

She threw up her hands. Then she placed the pork chops on a paper towel to drain the grease and turned off the fire.

“When it came time for college, Ezra wanted him to stay close to home and go to community college which is just ten minutes from here. That way, he could still help with the farm. That’s what his brother did. I wanted him near to keep an eye out. But it seems that Elijah had entered some kind of state math contest. It caught both of us by surprise that he even knew about such things, let alone took the initiative and entered it without our knowing about it.”

She divided the chops onto two plates.

“He came in first place.”

“That must have made you so proud.”

“It did. But it was a mixed bag. We … ‘we’ meaning Mennonites … we keep a low profile. After the contest, the letters began to arrive … full scholarships from Harvard and Princeton and MIT and so many others. People found out. People began to talk.”

“It’s hard when you’re a private family and you’re suddenly thrust into the spotlight, even a good spotlight.”

She nodded. “I had reservations about sending him away. I didn’t want him holed up in some small dorm room working with formulas during all his waking hours.” Her eyes moistened. “I wanted him to have a meaningful life with a wife and children and his own land.”

“I understand,” Rina said.

Ruth Anne regarded her with fierce eyes. “Do you?”

“In traditional communities, family is everything.”

“Yes, it is. Not that it matters now.” She stared up at the ceiling. “I really lost Elijah six years ago. It would be one thing if he had been happy with his new life. But he seemed so … I don’t know how to describe it. He became so withdrawn and secretive. Almost paranoid, but I found out that sometimes people can be that way after brain injuries.”

Rina nodded.

“His only focus was on his math. His world became very small. He had wanted to go to Princeton, because they have a top math department and they had this professor who Elijah wanted to study with. Ezra refused. He didn’t want a big university to subvert our values and lead him into a life that we didn’t approve of. Kneed Loft was a compromise. It was an hour away and also had an excellent math department. Plus there was another professor there that Elijah said he’d work with.”

“Did he give you a name?”

“No. After the accident, he didn’t talk to us beyond the basics. After much consideration, Ezra allowed him to go to Kneed Loft, but only after he worked a year on the farm because he was only sixteen. So he worked his year without complaint and then he left.”

A long pause.

“And he never really came back.” She bit her lower lip. “During his first year, he came home for Christmas and Easter. After that …” She shrugged. “Never saw him unless I visited, never heard from him unless I called … I got a cell phone so I could text him. It was the most likely way he’d answer me.”

“What about his father? Did he call him?”

“I do believe they haven’t exchanged a word in the past two years.” She turned to Rina. “If you have children, you know that they can be very different from one another.”

“Absolutely.”

“So … there you have it.” Ruth Anne paused. “Still … even with all the changes, I can’t understand why he would kill himself. He never seemed depressed. His world had become math, but he seemed to like what he was doing. He seemed to be all right. The last time I talked to him, he even seemed lighter of heart. Shows you what I know.”

“It’s not a matter of knowing, Mrs. Wolf. The mind is mysterious. Even when people seem transparent, we know they’re not.”

“Your husband.” A long pause. “Is he talking to people about Elijah?”

“I believe he is. You can certainly ask him questions.”

“Not in front of my husband.”

Rina paused. “I’ll give you his cell number if you’d like.”

“Why not?” Ruth Anne took out a scrap of paper and a pencil and Rina gave her the number. “You never know what you need, right? Not that I’d even know what to ask him.” She folded the number and placed it in her pocket. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask you when you last spoke with Elijah?”

“It was a month ago. His research was going well. He didn’t seem at all down. Maybe he hit a setback. If he had, he certainly wouldn’t have told me about it.” Her eyes leaked tears. “Now it really is in the past. Are you done with the salad?”

Rina nodded. “Do you have dressing for the salad? I’ll be happy to toss it.”

“Just add a little olive oil and lemon.”

“Sure.” Rina began mixing the greens.

Ruth Anne wiped her eyes. “I know that God has tests for all of us. And I have no idea why He’s testing me. But that’s all right. I’m strong. Elijah was weak. Even as a boy, he always depended on Jacob to get things done. Why would God test such a weak boy? Surely He can pick on stronger people.”

Rina shrugged. “Sometimes our understanding as well as our faith elude us.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” She turned to Rina. “I am so angry! I’m angry at God, I’m angry at Elijah, I’m angry at Ezra, I’m angry at the world. And it isn’t good. I have children. I can’t be this angry person and do right by them.” She stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t know where to turn or what to do.”

“When my first husband died, I was very angry as well. I had two little boys to take care of and I couldn’t see how I could manage. But I did.”

“How?”

“The passage of time. Ultimately I reconciled with God. I didn’t want to lose my faith because selfishly it was helpful to me.”

Ruth Anne didn’t answer. They both heard a screen door open and close. She said, “The boys are here. Can you take the salad out for me?”

“Of course.”

Ruth Anne looked at her. “I’m assuming you’ll tell your husband what I told you. I want you to tell him, but I don’t want Ezra to know what I told you.”

“Whatever you want. And if you want to keep everything confidential, I won’t mention it to Peter … Detective Decker. I’ll tell him we talked food.”

“No, no. Tell him everything. Maybe it’ll help him understand Elijah. Because I certainly didn’t understand my son at all.”

CHAPTER 8

M
CADAMS IGNORED THE
doorbell. The Deckers weren’t home and nobody except the police department knew he was in town. But by the third chime, he was irritated. He rose from the dining room table where he had spread out his papers and books. Maybe they were expecting a package. Or maybe one of their many children had dropped by for a pop-in visit, although he suspected that they had keys. Most likely it was a nuisance call. To him, all calls were nuisances.

Swinging open the door, he was face-to-face with Mallon Euler. She was dressed in a Windbreaker over a thick sweater, black jeans, and high-tops on her feet. Her hands were covered but her head was bare. He tried to hide his surprise but he suspected he wasn’t doing a good job. “Hi there.” He stepped outside. “Detective Decker isn’t in. Can I help?”

“Actually, I came to see you.”

A pause. “Sure. If you give me a minute, I’ll phone the station house and we’ll talk down there.”

“It’s personal.”

“O-kay.” His mind was racing. He looked at his watch. “Wow, it’s past noon. No wonder I’m hungry. Care to join me?” She smiled. It didn’t seem angry or happy, just a facial gesture. He shrugged. “While you decide, I’ll get my coat and shoes.”

“You could invite me in.”

“I’ll just be a moment.” He closed the door in her face and immediately called Decker’s cell. It rang four times before he picked up. McAdams said, “Sorry to bother you. Are you with Elijah’s parents?”

“Yes. Is everything all right?”

“Mallon Euler just showed up on my doorstep … rather, your doorstep, wanting to talk to me.” McAdams started lacing up his boots. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where I’m staying, but it does take a modicum of effort. Plus, she doesn’t want to talk at the station house. She says it’s personal. And in case you’re wondering, I haven’t invited her inside. But I did invite her to lunch.” He pulled on his jacket and gloves. “Is that okay?”

“Seems reasonable. Save the receipt and we’ll pay for your expenses. Find out what’s on her mind.”

“How’s it going with you?”

“I’ll let you know when I get back. Call me if you have any questions.”

“Will do.” He clicked off his cell phone and walked outside. “Let’s go toward campus. More places and choices. What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want.” Her voice was testy. “I’m not hungry.”

Other books

Milking the Moon by Eugene Walter as told to Katherine Clark
Identity by K. J. Cazel
Water Shaper (World Aflame) by Messenger, Jon
Azabache by Alberto Vázquez-Figueroa
George's Grand Tour by Caroline Vermalle