“I’ll drop you somewhere.”
“No. I want to walk. I feel like being alone now. Besides, Viper’s therapist isn’t that far from here.”
I walked her upstairs and out the rear entrance to the Home. She brought up the meeting with Perry. Again, I told her I would try to set something up as soon as possible and that I’d call her. We said good-bye. I went back to the embalming room to ask Nolan a question. He was in the process of getting ready to wash Alphonse’s body.
“That was nice of you to be so gentle with her,” I said.
“Give people what they want to hear,” he said matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders. “The kid was hurting. What would’ve been the point of telling her that what was left of her Aunt bore no resemblance to anything human?” I nodded in agreement.
“About her friend who wants to talk to me? Harry Petrovich’s nephew? If he calls should I tell him how things really are or should I sugarcoat what I do?”
“Play it by ear. If you sense he’s serious, give him the truth. Tell him what it’s like to take a maimed or disease-ridden body and attempt to make it look presentable for the viewing public.”
“I hear ya,” said Nolan, nodding his head affirmatively.
“Guess I’ll leave you to work on Alphonse,” I said, heading to the door. As I opened it Nolan had turned on the water and sprinkled a goodly amount onto the head of the body. In a few seconds he would apply a dab of Pert Plus shampoo to the full head of silver hair on Alphonse’s head.
I stepped into the hall.
As I headed up to my office I heard Nolan say, “You always had great hair, Alphonse.”
I went upstairs for a quick meeting on logistics with Clint. We still had two bodies on view, both scheduled for burial the next morning, one at 9:30 for interment at Elm Cross, the other at 11:30 for interment at a cemetery in Youngstown. As I would be occupied with the arrangements for Alphonse, I assigned Clint the Youngstown burial, primarily because it was further away and would demand more traveling time. Because I anticipated a massive turnout for Alphonse, by having the other two bodies gone we wouldn’t have to worry about even more people showing up to pay respects and there would be ample parking space.
After Clint and I finished my first inclination was to call Perry and fill him in on the theory Quilla and I had come up with about Alyssa and Virginia Thistle, but I decided to wait until we could talk face to face.
Instead, I called Mel Abernathy at Elm Grove cemetery to tell him to open a grave for Alphonse DiGregorio.
Chapter 16
Nolan did an amazing job on Alphonse, making him look not only much healthier than he really was, but younger, almost vibrant. It was the best work I’d seen him do in years. On a personal basis and in a professional sense, it was Nolan’s night to shine. Receiving compliments on his work from me was one thing, but Wilt Ging and at least a dozen friends of Alphonse who were Funeral Directors and embalmers showered their praise upon him.
The attention Nolan got from the handful of industry professionals who could truly appreciate his work was almost embarrassing. I actually think that had these men had their own private viewing they would have broken into applause for Nolan and slapped him on the back with congratulations.
The first night of viewing was in the grand tradition of old fashioned funerals. Scores of people came to pay respects to the family. By the end of the night, one hundred forty-five people had signed the guest book. The only awkward moment came when Perry Cobb arrived.
There were roughly sixty people in the viewing room when Perry arrived. Clint and I were at the door to greet him. He wore an out of style brown suit that was too small for him, a cheap, K-Mart off-brand pink shirt with buttons almost bursting to contain his belly and a plain, narrow green tie too loud for the occasion and scrunched into a bad Windsor knot with the lengths of it unbalanced.
Perry said “Greetings,” to me and punched Clint in the arm, adding, “How’s the little woman?”
“Fine,” said Clint politely. Like most of us, he had learned to play the game with Perry.
“Any developments in the case?” asked Clint.
Perry gave him a dirty look. “Yeah. I’ve got fifteen suspects, three in custody and I’m gonna beat a confession out of one later on tonight.” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “There’s nothing!” He turned to me. “So what’s the deal on meeting with the kid?”
“I was thinking maybe tomorrow morning.”
“I can do it at eleven.”
“I’ll check with her.” For a second I thought about telling him Quilla’s and my theory, but again it didn’t seem like the right time or place. I was biting at the bit to let him know what we had come up with, but it could wait.
“One thing interesting came up,” said Perry. “I went to dig up the files on Kyle Thistle. Guess what? There aren’t any. We had a pipe break ten years ago. Flooded a huge section of our storage room where we kept stuff on the old or closed cases. All that’s left is a waterlogged manila folder.” He scratched the tip of his nose. “I can’t get a break on this case.”
I thought to myself that if Alyssa, Virginia Thistle and Brandy Parker were all killed by the same man, Kyle Thistle could be eliminated. But I knew that if Alyssa was alive and well and married with three kids somewhere, Kyle was a slim possibility. Without saying good-bye or uttering another word to Clint or myself, Perry walked away and headed straight to the Viewing Room.
Despite the crowd, most people had cleared out by 8:50. By five past nine the only ones left were Clint and myself. I was restless and wired. But my workday was done, so I could finally relax. I asked Clint if he wanted to go out and grab something to eat as we often did. He passed. Cookie was waiting.
On other nights I would call Tyler — or he me — to join me, but tonight was obviously out of the question. So with Clint and Tyler unavailable, as I locked the front doors I had resigned myself to staying home, making a sandwich and watching TV. For a moment I thought about calling Gretchen, but the time didn’t seem right yet in my gut. Besides, it was a little late. I was loosening my tie as I turned off the lights in the Viewing Room when my cell phone rang.
As always, I hoped it was business.
“Good evening, Henderson’s. May I help you.?”
“It’s Quilla.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? You say oh like we’re strangers.”
“I’ve known you for three days.”
“But they’ve been an intense three days. We know things about each other, Del. I’ve had relationships that lasted five months that weren’t as intensive as us.”
“I was going to call you. Can you meet with Perry tomorrow morning at eleven?”
“Finally! I’ve been thinking and thinking and I’ve come up with another idea for him to pursue. Listen up: what if the killer has a relative buried in the general vicinity of the mausoleum where they found my Aunt? He visits the grave every so often. He knows the area’s remote. He needs a safe place to hide a body so he takes a chance on the mausoleum.”
“Not bad.”
“Cobb needs to check every headstone near it.”
“Makes sense.”
“I didn’t come up with the idea until about an hour ago. I was thinking of going out to Elm Cross cemetery and checking out the graves. Only problem is I don’t drive. I was wondering if maybe tomorrow morning we could take a ride and look. Maybe before our meeting with Perry. I mean, if it wasn’t so late and so dark, I’d say let’s do it now.”
Her last sentence pushed a button in me.