“But I’m hoping this will turn out different. It’s like they say. Better the devil you know... I’ve decided I’m not going out anymore with men I meet through the ads in Seniors’ World. People shade the truth or flat out lie. The last one didn’t even make it to the end of the date.” Nova looked up from her mirror as if reading from the air, while her fingers unerringly smoothed thick, tan-colored foundation over her face. “‘Widowed male, mid-seventies, wants companion who likes bingo and short trips.’ He told me later he got fifty-seven answers. So we’re out having coffee at the I-Hop and he breaks down crying, saying he feels like he is cheating on his wife. When she’s been in the ground for four years! I should have gotten up and left right there, but instead I stuck around for another three dates.” When Nova picked up a brown eye pencil, Claire realized what was wrong with the older woman’s face. Her eyebrows had been completely plucked out. She began to pencil in short arcs in what was presumably a better location than nature had originally given her.
“So one advertises for men as one would for a used bicycle?” Charlie’s tone was dry.
Nova heard the unspoken rebuke. “I guess you don’t know what it’s like. You could always take men or leave them, so of course they were interested. It’s that reverse whadaucallit.”
“Psychology?” Claire supplied.
“Right. They want Charlie because she doesn’t particularly want them. Now me, I want a man. So I have to hunt around a little bit. But I take all the precautions.” Nova stared into the mirror, talking to her own image as she tilted her head down and began applying black mascara to her sparse eyelashes. “My rule is that for the first date you meet in neutral territory for coffee only. And I won’t go out with anyone twice if they’re rude to the waitress, wear a toupee or talk too much about their late, sainted wife. On the second date, each of you still brings your own car. But if someone makes it through the second date, well, all bets are off. If they want to follow me back to my place, fine. At my age, you’re living on borrowed time, anyway. The doctor here is always nagging at me, telling me I should give up smoking, cut out butter and red meat, and do more exercise. Well, I do like my time in the pool, but I’m not going to do the rest of that crap. Life is for living. Who wants to live if you can’t enjoy a rare steak or a bottle of wine, or a cigarette after sex? My sister says I should get some condoms. I said okay, but I haven’t yet. I’m seventy-six years old. I mean, what’s going to happen to me? Am I going to die at one hundred and forty?” Nova whooped with laughter, then picked up a purple lip pencil and began to line her bottom lip well past where it really ended.
“Nova – “ Charlie began, but the other woman cut her off and continued talking.
“I have all these friends who are brand new widows and they come to me for advice. They were married to the same man for fifty, sixty years, and now they don’t know what to do.” Nova’s laugh sounded more like a bark. “Now there’s a problem I’ve never had. They want to know how to go out on a date with someone new after being with the same man for half a century. They ask me what should they say, how should they act, when should they sleep together. Like I know the answers.”
As Nova took a second to draw a breath, Charlie was quick to fit her words into the pause. “Nova, Nova, wait a minute. Please. I want to ask you something.” Outside, rain began to patter against the windows.
She paused with her lip liner in mid-air. Claire noticed that one of the newly drawn eyebrows seemed lower than the other. “About what?”
“Whose baby was Elizabeth carrying?” When Nova didn’t answer, Charlie said, “No one can be hurt by the truth fifty years later.” She managed to utter the sentence as if she really believed it. “There is something you must know. I do not believe Elizabeth killed herself.” Charlie explained about what they now believed. “I think someone hit Elizabeth over the head, then tried to make it look like a suicide. Nova, Elizabeth was murdered. She didn’t kill herself.”
“Someone killed Liz? Strung her up like she was a piece of washing?”
“That is what I believe. So she did not kill herself over lack of money for an abortion. There is no reason to feel guilty.”
Nova’s skin had lost all color, so the makeup stood out like paint. “Aren’t I still just as guilty then? If I had found a way to get her the money, do you think she would still have been killed? Whoever put that baby in her belly didn’t care – but I was her best friend. I should have figured out a way.”
“Whoever?” Claire echoed. “Nova, who was the father of her baby? Was it Allen?”
Nova sighed, then shook her head. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t care, but Liz did. Very much. Even after she was dead, I didn’t want to see her name dragged through the mud. I thought Liz killed herself rather than have anyone find out the truth. I didn’t see it as my place to tell.” Nova ground out her cigarette, then lit another. “When Liz came to me and told me she was pregnant, I told her she should just move up the wedding. See, I figured Allen would go along with it because it was his baby, right? But then she told me it wasn’t his. She said he had wanted them to sleep together before he went to Korea, but she had been too scared to. And that he hadn’t pressed her since he had come back.”
“Whose baby was it, then?”
Nova shook her head. “She wouldn’t tell me. I tried every way I could think of to get her to say, but she just clammed up. Then I asked her if she wanted to marry this other man. Liz was horrified by the idea. Said it was impossible. She was so ashamed she wouldn’t look me in the eye. That girl was about as innocent as new laid egg. She just kept saying she had sinned and that the baby would probably be a monster. Damned Catholics and their guilt. As if Liz were the only one responsible. As if nobody had ever done what she had done. As if it was even a baby yet, instead of just a little lump of flesh. I told her she should try and get the money from the guy who made her pregnant. She said she had asked him, but he refused to help. He told her that Allen wasn’t that smart, that if Liz gave herself to him, Allen would never be able to figure out it wasn’t really his baby.”
“Wasn’t he afraid that Elizabeth would make a big stink about it being his baby?” Claire asked.
“What good would that have done her? In the long run, Liz would have just been labeled a slut and been left with nothing to show for it. Poor thing. She was desperate, scared and sobbing. The best plan we could come up with was the one the real father of the baby’s had suggested. So she borrowed the sexiest nightgown I owned, black and long and clingy, with a matching fur-trimmed peignoir.” Nova ran her fingers down her sides, miming the way it had fit. “She was the palest blond, with white skin, so on her the contrast was stunning. Allen’s parents were going to be at the symphony that night, so they would have the whole house to themselves. The whole thing might have worked, too, except she didn’t know Allen wasn’t capable.”
“Was not capable?” Charlie echoed.
“Mary and I went to the same ob/gyn for a long time. Years after Liz died I found out from this nurse who liked to gossip that there was a reason Allen and Mary never had any children.” Nova took another puff on her cigarette. “It wasn’t just his leg that got mangled in Korea.”
“So he was impotent?” Claire asked, picturing Elizabeth desperately trying to be sexy - and failing miserably.
“He couldn’t make a baby, if that’s what you mean. I’ll always remember the way Liz looked in that silk gown. That was the last time I saw her alive. And I heard that when you found her body, Charlie, she was still wearing that peignoir.”
Claire and Charlie looked at each other, and Claire knew they were both remembering Alan’s bitter murmur, She wanted it far more than I did.
Nova said, “I always knew Allen was lying when he said Liz was the one who broke the engagement. He was her only hope of remaining a respectable woman. Liz would never have broken up with him. What else was there for her? If she had gone home to her family, her father would have kicked her out on
the street once he realized she was pregnant. He was a drunk, in and out of work – mostly out – but his word was law. Liz had been desperate to be an adult, to be on her own and away from her father. That was why she was so grateful to Allen’s parents for putting her up when he was off in Korea. That was why she was willing to undergo Austrid’s little lessons on etiquette and how to be a proper lady. How to be a proper Lisac.”
Claire said, “If you guessed Allen was lying about Liz breaking up with him, why didn’t you call him on it?”
“What good would it have done? Sure, I figured Allen was the one who broke up with her. But I also thought he hadn’t expected her to kill herself over it. Once she was dead, he made up a story that put him in the best light. I just figured Allen had to live with what he had done, just like I had to live with not finding a way to give Liz the money for an abortion. But I guess he’s probably had to live with a lot more than a sin of omission.”
“What do you mean?” Claire asked. “Do you think he’s the one who killed her?”
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Nova said. “Here he begged her to sleep with him before he shipped out, and she turns him down. Then as soon as he’s gone, she starts putting out. And then tries to trick him when he comes back. Men are territorial, you know.” Nova sighed, then shrugged. “But nothing we do will bring her back.”
“Howard thinks a thief must have killed Elizabeth, a thief who took the money Allen had given her for the abortion.”
“And you only have Allen’s word that there ever even was money, don’t you? Howard’s just saying that just because he wants to distract you from focusing on Allen. He’s always been impressed by Allen’s money and charm and success. No, no matter what wild theories Howard comes up with, my money is on Allen. The army made him a killer, and when he was under stress, he reverted back to his training.”
“You believe Allen killed her and yet you will not do anything about it?” Charlie rapped out the words, her back stiff and straight.
Nova shrugged. “You have to be practical, Charlie. Allen’s a big shot now, just like his father was. You mess with somebody like that, you’d better know what you’re doing. At the first sign of trouble, he’ll have twenty lawyers and hot and cold running politicians. And the easiest thing to do would be to call us two dotty old ladies with no proof.”
“Couldn’t we exhume her body?” Claire asked. “My mom’s dating Frank now, and he might agree to it. We could prove Liz’s skull was fractured.”
“So? Liz is nothing but bones now. Even if they dig her up, then what? Even if her head is broken, well, Charlie has already said that Liz’s head hit the china cabinet. They’ll just say that happened after she was dead – not before.”
“But there must be something we could do to find out who killed her,” Charlie insisted. “There is no time limit on justice.”
“I’ll put on my thinking cap,” Nova said. Then she caught sight of the clock on the wall. “Ohmigawd, I’d better put on my dress, too. I’m already ten minutes late for my date!” She hurried them out the door and into the driving rain.
Before she started the car, Claire said, “Charlie, I’m afraid Nova’s right. Even though we know she was pregnant and that it wasn’t Allen’s baby, we’ve got no proof that he or anyone else killed her.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of rain drumming on the roof. “We don’t even have any proof that she was murdered. We’ve got nothing.”
Charlie shook her head without replying.
Chapter 39
IYQ
As she drove away from the Riverwalk campus, Claire tried again. “Let’s start from the beginning. What do we know? Someone killed Elizabeth and then went to the trouble to make it look like she hung herself. And someone – presumably the same someone – hid her ring and her purse – minus the money – in the rock wall Tom was building. Elizabeth was pregnant, and Allen wasn’t the father, but we don’t know who was. Allen lied about breaking up with Elizabeth, and let us believe that he was the father of the baby. To me, a big piece of the puzzle is still missing. Who was the real father of Elizabeth’s baby? Wouldn’t he have just as much reason as Allen – if not more – to kill her? Maybe he was afraid Elizabeth would cause him trouble and decided to take care of it – by taking care of her.”
“But Nova said he refused to give her money for an abortion. If this man really wanted to keep it secret, why did not simply give her the money? That is certainly an easier solution than killing her.”
“Five hundred dollars was a lot of money back then. Maybe he just didn’t have that kind of money.”
Charlie only shrugged, but Claire could tell she was listening.
“And I don’t buy the idea of a thief, either,” Claire continued. “A thief would have kept the ring and found a buyer who didn’t ask too many questions. Or pried the diamonds out and sold them loose. And if a stranger had killed her, then they probably wouldn’t have bothered to make it look like a suicide.” The car hydroplaned for a second, and she lifted her foot off the brakes. “Maybe what we need to figure out is - who were the men in her world? I would guess there were dozens of men no one’s thought to bring up – boys she went to high school with, her teachers, the men who worked at the grocery store where she shopped, her next-door neighbors when she was growing up. Then there are the men we do know about. There’s Allen, but we know he can’t be the father. And Tom,” she said quickly, one eye on Charlie, “but of course it can’t be him.” She saved her best idea for last. “But what about Howard? Howard lived right next door to Elizabeth. He can’t even talk about her without breaking down. But what if he’s crying, not because she’s dead, but because he’s sorry he did it?”
“Howard?” Charlie slowly shook her head. But she seemed stronger than she had earlier in the afternoon, and Claire hoped that all the talk of a long-ago crime had taken her mind off the present-day one. “It just does not feel right. I think it must have been someone else. Maybe the reason this man did not talk of marrying her was that he was already married. Who might really know is her brother Let us go ask Frank who he thinks it might have been. Back in those days, all he did was watch us. Perhaps now that will turn out to have some value.”
When they rang the bell at Frank’s house, he came to the door looking old-man sharp in a golf shirt, yellow pants and white loafers. Claire gave a little start when she saw her mother was with him, standing as close to him as his shadow. Jean had her hand hooked in the belt on the back of his pants, as if Frank were some kind of life-size puppet. She maneuvered him back to the couch, and they both sat down in a space more suited to one person.
“Hi, mom,” Claire said weakly. “I didn’t realize you were over here, too.”
“Oh, we’re practically living in each other’s pockets,” Jean said. She and Frank smiled at each other, a smile so sweet it made Claire’s teeth ache just to see it.
“So,” Frank said, “what brings you ladies by?”
“We have learned something new,” Charlie said. “Something about your sister’s baby. It was not Allen’s.”
“What?” Frank looked startled. “That can’t be right. Who told you that?”
Claire sketched out what Nova had said, then leaned forward. “But what I’m wondering is – do you think it could have been Howard?”
Frank seemed taken aback. “Are you thinking that he might be the father of her baby or that he might have killed her?”
“If he was the first, he might have had reason to do the second.”
“Not to be a wet blanket here, but aren’t you missing something?”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.
Frank hesitated. “Um, because Howard’s gay?” There was no doubt he was using the word in its most modern sense.
“Howard loves women,” Charlie protested, but Claire could tell she was turning the idea over in her mind. “He was always the biggest flirt.”
“Every time I’ve talked to him, he’s given me the once
over,” Claire said.
“Haven’t you noticed he’s a little bit much?” Frank said, shaking his head. “He’s like the preacher on TV proclaiming that adultery is a sin when he’s secretly sleeping with his secretary and all the women who come to him for counseling.”
“It is true he never was with one woman for more than a date or two,” Charlie said.
Even Jean was looking interested by this turn of events. “Didn’t you say he was a teacher? And coached the school’s baseball team?”
Charlie and Frank both nodded.
“Maybe that’s your answer. Fifty years ago, any teacher who came out of the closet would have been fired the next day. Especially one who spent time in the locker room with kids. Heck, twenty years ago. Maybe even now. People get nervous when it comes to their kids, even though it’s usually the married Scout master or the priest who seems to be the worst offender.”
Claire thought of her own high school PE teachers, women who were invariably addressed with a “Miss” and who shared apartments with other female PE teachers to “save on rent.” “I don’t know though. I mean, just because Howard never got married doesn’t make him gay. Maybe he’s just inept.”
Frank sighed. “There’s more to it than that. Howard is definitely gay.”
“And you know because -?” Jean prompted.
Frank looked down at his lap. “Once Howard and I got really drunk when we were down by the river. Nova had this flask she had brought along, and Howard and I made off with it and drank it all ourselves. We ended up talking together, sitting on the edge of the riverbank, while the rest of them were off doing something else. It was one of those conversations that appears quite meaningful at the moment, due to a complete lack of sobriety. Anyway, after it got dark, and we were getting ready to go, he leaned forward and tried to kiss me.”