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I hoped so.
64
L il and Gus Kramer sat nervously rigid in Captain Larry Ahearn’s office. Ahearn eyed them carefully, figuring out his approach to them. It was obvious when Gaylor ushered them in that Lil Kramer was on the verge of a total breakdown. Her hands were trembling. There was a distinct twitch at the side of her mouth. She was on the brink of tears. Start gently, or let her have it? He decided on the rough approach.
“Lil, you didn’t let on to us that you spent two years in prison for jewelry theft,” he snapped.
It was as if he had punched her in the mouth. She gasped, her eyes widened, and she began to moan. Gus jumped to his feet. “You shut up,” he yelled at Ahearn. “Look up that case. She was a young girl from Idaho, without a family, caring for an old lady night and day. She never touched that jewelry! The old lady’s cousins were the only ones who had the combination of the safe in her house. They framed Lil so that they not only had the jewelry but the insurance, may they rot in hell.”
“I never met anyone who went to prison who wasn’t framed,” Ahearn said brusquely. “Sit down, Mr. Kramer.” He turned back to Lil. “Did Mack ever accuse you of stealing anything?”
“Lil, don’t say a word. These people are trying to frame you again.”
Lil Kramer’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t help it if they do. No one will believe me. Just before he disappeared, Mack asked about his new watch, if I had seen it. I knew he was hinting that I had taken it. I got so upset, I yelled at him. I said the three of you in that apartment are all so careless, then when you can’t find something you blame it on me.”
“Who else blamed you?” Ahearn demanded.
“That nasty Bruce Galbraith. He couldn’t find his college ring, as if I would have anything to do with taking it. What would I do with it? Then, a week later, he said he had found it in the pocket of his slacks. No apology, of course. No, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Kramer.’” She was weeping now, tired, hopeless tears.
Ahearn and Gaylor looked at each other, knowing they were thinking the same thing: That would be easy to check.
“Then you don’t know if Mack found his watch before he disappeared?”
“No, I don’t. And that’s why I’m so afraid that when he comes back, he’ll accuse me again.” Lil Kramer began to wail. “And that’s why when I thought I saw him in church that day-”
“You thought you saw him in church!” Ahearn interrupted. “You told us you were certain you saw him there.”
“I saw someone about his size, then when I heard he had dropped the note, I was sure, but then I wasn’t sure, and I guess I’m sure now, but-”
“Why did you suddenly decide to move to Pe
“Because Mr. Olsen’s nephew, Steve Hockney, overheard Mack asking me about the watch, and now Steve is holding that over my head,” she screamed. “Because he wants us to complain about Howie to his uncle and get him fired and…and…I can’t…take…it…anymore. I just want to die. I want to die…”
Lil Kramer leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. Her thin shoulders shook as she sobbed. Gus knelt beside her and put his arms around her. “It’s all right, Lil,” he said, “it’s all right. We’re going home now.”
He looked up, first at Ahearn, and then at Gaylor. “This is what I think of you two,” he said, and spat on the carpet.
65
T he other phone call after I finished speaking with Nick was to Jackie Reynolds, my psychologist friend, who had been trying to reach me and whom I’d put off calling. Of course Jackie had been reading the newspapers, but we hadn’t talked much since our di
I knew she caught on. “Carolyn, I’ve had a couple of cancellations,” she said. “Have you any plans for lunch?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you come up here, and we’ll send out for sandwiches and coffee?”
That sounded good to me. Jackie’s office adjoins the apartment where she lives on East Seventy-fourth Street and Second Avenue. As I hung up, I realized how much I wanted her guidance about my pla
I dialed his office, and was put straight through to him. “Carolyn, I didn’t know what to think when I couldn’t reach you.”
I heard the reproach in his voice and apologized. I knew I owed him that. I explained that I had gone to Martha’s Vineyard and the reason for it. Then, keenly aware of the probable wiretap, I said that it was a wasted visit, and that I was going to drive up later this afternoon to see Mom. “If she refuses to see me, at least I tried. I’ll get there between four and five,” I told him.
“I think that might be good timing,” he said slowly. “I hope to get up there around five myself. I want to talk to you and Olivia together.”
With that, we left it. What did he want to talk to the two of us about? I wondered. Surely in Mom’s fragile state, he wouldn’t withdraw his support from her now. Please, God, not that! She needed him. I thought about the night only a few weeks ago, after Mack left the note and at di
I changed into a jacket and slacks and, as I did last night in Martha’s Vineyard, tried to mask the dark circles under my eyes with foundation and added color to my overall washed-out appearance with mascara and lipstick.
I drove out of the garage, this time in my own car, and-surprise! surprise!-for the present, the media vans were gone. I guess they figured they had about as much out of me as they were going to get for the day.
When I got to Seventy-fourth Street, I left the car in Jackie’s garage and went upstairs. When she came to the door, we hugged each other. “Nothing like lots of stress as a daily diet,” she commented. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks, and I bet you’ve lost at least five or six pounds.”
“At least,” I agreed as I followed her into her office. It’s a medium-sized, comfortable room with a couple of upholstered armchairs facing her desk. I remembered she collects nineteenth-century English prints of dogs and horses, and admired aloud some really wonderful examples framed on the wall. I imagined new patients remarking on them before revealing the problem that had driven them to seek Jackie’s help.
We agreed on ham and Swiss cheese on rye with lettuce and mustard and black coffee. She phoned in the order, then we settled down to talk. I told her about my meeting with Barbara, holding back only the fact that she had given birth to Mack’s son. Instead, feeling dishonest, I gave Barbara’s version, that she had had an abortion.
“It’s a viable reason for Mack to escape,” she agreed. “But just suppose he had gone to your father and/or your mother. What would either or both of them have done, do you think?”
“Supported them in their decision to marry and have the baby. Put Mack through law school.”
“Put Barbara through medical school?”
“I don’t know.”
“Knowing your father as I did, he certainly wouldn’t have put up with Mack taking a crack at acting.”
“Now that is a certainty, I agree.” Then I told Jackie how worried I was that Elliott might reconsider wanting to marry Mom while the present suspicion of Mack existed, or if he ever was arrested and put on trial.