Pain in my legs awoke me. Bessie was sitting on the bed, shaking me, her slacks pressing against my sunburnt knees. Her dark eyes were large and frightened. I asked, “What's the matter?” and moved away from her. It was still raining and at first I thought the shades were down, then I glanced at my watch—it was after eight.
“Matt, Andy and I have been riding all over town looking for you, and here you are, pounding your ear!”
I sat up and groaned; my skin felt as if it was cracking. “Damn, but I've got a burn. Got anything for that?”
“I saw Matty on the couch outside so I thought you had gone to town or... I'm all mixed up. Matt, Matt, they've arrested Jerry for Dr. Barnes' murder!”
I stood up and shook with a small chill; my red skin seemed to change from hot to ice every second. I was afraid to put on a robe. “Jerry, the dialectician? Where did you learn that?”
“It's all over the village. And every one of these bigoted souls is pleased as punch now that the village 'foreigner' is labeled a murderer! I tried to see him but that dumb-ox police chief wouldn't even let me talk to him. Matt, there's nobody to help him. You saw Jerry, I know trim—he couldn't possibly kill anybody.”
Stiffly, I headed for the door.
“Matt, are you sleepwalking? Didn't you hear what I told you?”
“I'm not deaf, but when I get up the first thing I have to do is take in the John. I'll be back in a second.”
Washing was torture and I couldn't find a thing in the medicine chest for sunburn. When I came out, Bessie had tea bags is a pan of hot water, cotton, and a bottle of baby oil. She told me to stand still and began dabbing my red skin with the tea bags. It embarrassed me to have her touch me all over so I cornballed, “Thinking of serving me with sugar?”
“No, with an apple in your mouth. Tannic acid is the best thing for a bum. Now I'll put on the oil, and dress you warmly before you catch a cold. Matt, we simply....”
“Where's the kid?”
“Visiting down the street. Matt, we must help Jerry. I'm certain they're making him the whipping boy, the goat.”
“Do you know why they think Jerry did it?”
“Oh, something about his having an argument with the doctor last night. Jerry is a diabetic, or on the verge of becoming one. He felt ill last night and called the doctor, who bawled him out for drinking beer. A neighbor heard them shouting at each other. Mrs. Barnes claims Jerry's was the only call the doctor had last night. There, that's enough oil, now get dressed. I have supper working.”
“I'm not hungry, stuffed myself on sandwiches in the boat,” I said, going to my room and dressing. Matty was wailing for his supper.
Bessie had hamburgers, potatoes, and a cup of strong spicy tea waiting. She sat down opposite me and lit a cigarette. When I asked when she started smoking, she said, “Only when I'm nervous. Matt, you have to prove Jerry is innocent.”
“Me?”
“You're a policeman and the only one who can—and will—help him. You know he's being framed.”
“Bessie, honey, because he's your landsman doesn't make him innocent. They must have something else on him beside what you've told me.”
“They don't! You can almost feel the sigh of relief in the village now that he's arrested—they all hate him.”
“You sure he's arrested or merely held for questioning?”
“Oh—I don't know the legalities... Matt, what are you going to do?”
“Go back to sleep. I'm on....”
“Matt, I'm serious!”
“So am I. Bessie, no matter what you may think, people are rarely framed for murder. At least not in New York State. I'm on vacation, not to mention that I have no business here as a cop.”
“Matt, I'm counting on you. You're the one who started this murder business, you just have to help!”
“Bessie, be sensible. I acted like a horse's ass this morning, playing the big cop. It's... well... like a matter of professional ethics. Suppose Roberts was in New York and tried playing cop—they'd laugh him out of town, if they didn't actually boot him out of the station house. Actually, as a peace officer, I have no more authority over Roberts than... well, than any citizen. I mean....”
“Matt, you're spouting about ethics like this was a debate, a bull session. A man's life is at stake!”
I nibbled at the hamburger. “Easy, Bessie. You say go out and solve a murder like it was the same as going to the store. I mean, exactly what do you think I can do? This isn't a movie. I'm not a detective; all my life I've been a plain old beat-cop. The truth is that except for a couple of busted store windows and petty house robberies, I've never taken part in a real crime. Jerry will get a lawyer, a chance to prove his innocence. Damn it, Bessie, what I'm trying to say is: I'm not sure I can help him or....” I let the rest of the sentence die, turned away to give Matty a piece of hamburger.
I saw disgust and shame in Bessie's eyes. “I hate to say this, Matt, but you're an old maid. All you want is your bed and to fool around with a dumb cat. Jerry is a good man, doesn't that matter to you? I suppose if he was a lousy cat with a broken leg, you'd run to....” She held her face in her hands and began to weep.
I'm a sucker for tears—any kind. I went around the table and put my hands on her shoulders. She hugged my waist. “Okay, Bessie, I'll see what I can do. But don't expect me to work miracles, be a super-sleuth.”
She wiped her face on my shirt. “Matt, I'm sorry.... about calling you an old maid. You're like Jerry—a good man. I know you'll solve this. I just know!”
“Yeah.” It sounded like nothing. “Let me have the keys to the car. I'll see what I can get from this alleged Chief of Police.” My fingers were stroking her hair, it was very soft.
Bessie insisted I wear one of Danny's windbreakers, which was too big for me and I knew I looked comical as I parked in front of the Harbor's main building. I was hoping Robert's would be out. He wasn't. He was behind his desk sucking on a big cigar, and from the sneering expression on his face I had the feeling Roberts had been waiting for me. I was all set to explain about Bessie nagging me and how I was on vacation, and hardly wanted a fight with my daughter-in-law on any occasion. But the sight of him got my dander up, making it harder for me to apologize for sticking my nose into his business. I fully realized I was being a prize pain in his rear.
Roberts boomed, “If it isn't Peace Officer Lund. I suppose you heard the news?” The sarcastic “Peace Officer” bit didn't help my mood.
I relit my pipe and sat in the chair beside his desk. “Yeah, I heard. I know this sounds kind of dumb—I mean, this morning I was talking up because of the boy, and now, well, my daughter-in-law is after me. You see, she's Greek, like Jerry, and she wants me to....”