"So she drives a black Honda motorcycle and so I'd like to know who she is."
"Why?"
"Is that really any of your business?"
"As a matter of fact, it is."
"Now why would that be?"
"Because she happens to be my best friend."
"I see."
"And I protect her."
"'From my few experiences with her, I'd say she doesn't need a hell of a lot of protection."
She had some more cigarette. "She's high-strung."
"At least."
She glared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I think she's probably clinical."
She sighed. "She's had some problems, I'll admit. But now that her aunt's in the nursing home-" She allowed herself several cigarette hacks, then said, "Evelyn has spent some time in mental hospitals."
"I see."
"That doesn't mean she's crazy."
"No," I said and meant it. "No, it doesn't."
"Her aunt raised her; Evelyn's own mother died when she was six. And then there's what happened with Sonny. That's when all the trouble started. "
"What trouble?"
She jammed out one cigarette in a round red metal ashtray and promptly lit another. "You want a Coke?"
"Sure. I'll get it for us. You want regular or Diet?"
Given her weight problem, I figured she'd say Diet Coke.
For the first time she smiled. "You want to learn something today?"
"What?"
"There are reports that show that people who drink diet pop actually gain weight instead of lose it."
"So you want regular Coke."
"Right," she said, "regular."
So I went and got her a regular and me a Diet and could not help but look at least briefly at the wondrous backside of the little black woman conducting the class, and then I went back into the tiny office gray with smoke.
"So what's with her aunt?"
"Sonny dies," she said, slipping into present tense. "Her aunt doesn't believe anything the police say. She starts becoming obsessed."
"What did the police say?"
"Suicide."
"They said he jumped off Pierce Point?"
She looked surprised that I knew about Pierce Point.
"Right."
"Was there a note found?"
"Suicide note?" Irene said.
"Right."
"No.''
"Then why did the police assume it was suicide?"
She shrugged. "They said he was despondent."
"Did they say about what?"
"No. But they said they checked with his teachers and the teachers all said he was despondent. Even the aunt had to admit that. He was usually an A student. He went to summer school between his junior and senior year so he could graduate early. But then he screwed it up."
"Screwed up his grades?"
"Yeah. He got Ds. In summer school you have to get at least Cs."
"So how does Evelyn fit into all this?" Now I was talking in the present tense, too.
"Evelyn is five years younger, right, a very pretty but very high-strung kid. Always had problems. Manic depression, actually. Well, when Sonny buys it, the aunt puts everything on Evelyn. She expects Evelyn not only to share the grief but to spend the rest of her life with her, too. The aunt has money, right, so the aunt builds Evelyn her own wing on the house and Evelyn is expected to stay there the rest of her life, right, and to get caught up in all her obsessions-her hypochondria (this woman has sent a dozen doctors screaming into the sunset), her paranoia about her investments (I mean most of the stockbrokers in this town would rather have gasoline enemas than deal with her), and with proving that Sonny was actually pushed off Pierce Point by persons unknown. So Evelyn, being none too stable herself, does in fact get caught up in all this. Very caught up. And in the process becomes sort of a half-ass detective, really going into Sonny's life and particularly into Sonny's life the summer between his junior and senior year." She stopped.
"And?"
"And to be honest, I don't know so much about lately."
"Lately?"
"The past few weeks."
"You haven't seen her?"
"Oh, I see her. But she's in one of her-moods." Her voice was an odd mixture of anger and sorrow. I liked her. She was tough in the way good people are tough. "I mean, I don't think we've split up or anything. She just gets-"
"Kind of crazy."
"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't be unfair to put it that way. Kind of crazy."
I thought of how she'd said 'split up.' Obviously she wanted me to know they were lovers.
"I wonder if you'd give me her address."
"You gotta know I'm going to ask you why?"
"Because I may be able to help her."
"True blue?"
"True blue. I may have a lead of sorts on Sonny."
"Everything's in her aunt's name."
"Huh?"
"House, credit cards, even her Honda."
"I see."
"Just look up her aunt's name in the phone book and you'll have the address."
"Thanks."
"She was supposed to be here tonight but she didn't show up. Didn't phone or anything. That's why I had to pull Mimsy in."
Now I wanted to leave and she still wanted to talk.
She said, "I guess there's one thing I should tell you."
"What's that?"
"She can get kind of violent."
I thought of what she'd done to Donna and to Glendon Evans. Not to mention me. I said, "Yeah, I've heard rumors to that effect."
"But even if she did hurt you, she wouldn't mean to."
I smiled. "I'm sure that would make me feel a lot better."
She laughed and went into another cigarette hack and said, "She's great at apologies. I guess that's what I'm really trying to say. She does these terrible things-anybody else I would have left years ago-but she's got this fantastic way of apologizing. You ever know anybody like that?"
In fact, I had.
Her name had been Karen Lane.
I thanked Irene and left.
Chapter 26
I called American Security to see if they'd need me tonight (supposedly we work four nights on, three off, like firemen in some cities). They didn't. Next I called Donna, told her about my last three conversations.
"So this Sonny Howard was a friend of Forester and Price and Haskins and you think there's a possibility that Karen Lane killed him."
"A few people seem to think so."
"But why would she have killed him?"
"That's why I'm going to look up Evelyn."
"Then who killed Karen Lane?"
"If I knew, I'd call Edelman."
She sighed. "Boy, Dwyer."
"Come on."
"What?"
"You're trying to make me feel guilty about not taking you along."
"Am I succeeding?"
"No, because Evelyn is somewhere on the loose and she's not quite hinged properly."
"So I noticed."
"So what are you and Joanna doing?"
"Well, Bringing Up Baby is on PBS, so I guess we're going to watch that."
"You don't like Katharine Hepburn."
"I just can't get past all her mannerisms."
"Then concentrate on Cary Grant."
"I'd rather concentrate on you."
"You can't go."
"Boy, that's pretty cynical, Dwyer. Thinking I'd only compare you to Cary Grant because I wanted to go along."
"Right."
"It's a good thing I'm not sensitive."
"Bye, hon."
"Please, can't I?"
"Bye."
"Please?"
The three-story gabled house sat on a shelf of land dense with elm, maple, and spruce. A gravel road led up to it. A ring-necked pheasant ambled in front of my headlights and gave me a dirty look. I hit the brakes, the Toyota nearly doing a wheelie. The pheasant did not seem impressed. He didn't speed up at all. He just continued walking his way across the gravel drive and into the night.