Let Me Whisper in Your Ear (23 page)

Only that didn't happen. After just a few weeks, he was hooked—it seemed that he couldn't even manage waiting for the subway in the morning without popping a five-milligram tablet on the subway platform. Now, three years later, and almost twelve sweeps periods later, he was trying, without much success, to quit.

But Gwyneth's murder had everybody jumpy. And this Palisades story had him as anxious as ever. His attempts at romance with Laura seemed to be going nowhere.

Matthew tried to be philosophical—again.

Hey, it was no sin to be anxious, was it? Everyone experienced anxiety at one time or another, didn't they? Who didn't have sweaty palms during a job interview or have butterflies in the stomach before a speech?

And, God knew, the profession he had chosen had more than its share of stress. Deadlines, competition, exacting standards. Anyone in his right mind would be worried about the repercussions of getting the facts wrong in front of millions of television viewers.

Working for Joel Malcolm just twisted the tourniquet tighter. The relentless demand for stories hit out of the ballpark time after time after time. Not even Sammy Sosa could hit a home run every time at bat.

He wondered how many of the other
Hourglass
producers were taking drugs. He knew he couldn't be the only one who took Valium to relax.

But Matthew's problem was that his use had gotten out of hand. He'd become addicted. He was clever enough to have arranged to get prescriptions from three different doctors, so none of them realized the scope of his dependency. He only submitted the bills from one set of prescriptions, so the
KEY News
HMO never red-flagged the pharmacies he used.

He was trying to stop. At first he went cold turkey. But the withdrawal had been a nightmare. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, the headache was blinding. He'd had a story that was near air, and, panic-stricken, he'd popped the pills again.

There was never a good time to stop. There was always some other stressful situation that had to be dealt with and the Valium made it bearable.

Yes. Much better.
It was kicking in now.

80

T
HE GNAWING WORRY
had been intensifying over the past two days.

What if Kitzi Malcolm hadn't been telling the truth during her
Hourglass
interview?

She said that she couldn't see faces. Couldn't tell if the figure on the roof with Gwyneth was a man or a woman. But what if she was lying? What if the light from the fireworks had illuminated them as they stood on the freezing rooftop?

Would there have to be a third murder?

The newspapers and television hadn't reported anything about a woman's body found hidden deep in the thicket in Central Park. So far so good. Sooner or later, though, Delia's body would be discovered.

That would be a great addition to the
Hourglass
series. Gwyneth Gilpatric's maid found murdered!

Killing Kitzi would be more difficult, but not impossible.

81

B
EFORE SHE LEFT
the office for the day, Laura dialed her father's number.

“Hey, Pop. It's me. Just checking in. How's it going?”

“I'm fine, Munk. How are you?”

“Okay,” Laura answered, holding the phone against her shoulder as she replaced her shoes with sneakers for the walk home. “Working hard on this Palisades Park story.”

There was no answer from Emmett.

“Know who I interviewed yesterday? Ricky Potenza,” Laura continued. “He was Tommy Cruz's best friend.”

“Did he tell you anything you didn't know?”

Laura thought she detected a slurring of her father's voice. She cringed.

“No. Not really, but we still have some time left to work on our other sources. I'm praying that we can find out what happened to Tommy Cruz before this piece airs.”

Silence on the telephone line.

“Pop?”

“Yeah, Munk?”

“What's going on? Why are you so negative on me doing this story?”

A deep sigh filtered through Laura's earpiece. “I told you at Christmas, Laura, I think you should let what happened lie. What good is there in digging all this up?”

“Try a little piece of mind for the Cruzes. How about that?” Laura answered, annoyed. “Did you ever think that it might bring some closure for them, to know what really happened to their son?”

“Come off it, Laura. Helping the Cruzes isn't your main aim here.” Laura could hear the anger in his voice. “Get off your high horse. You want a story that you think could be sensational. You want to impress all your
KEY News
buddies. Miss Big Hotshot Producer solves a thirty-year-old murder mystery.”

Laura was taken aback and hurt by the venom in her father's voice.

82

E
MMETT FELT LIKE
a noose was tightening around his neck.

Alerted by the New York City police, a Cliffside Park detective had come to the house this afternoon to ask about the checks that Gwyneth had written out to him over the years. There had been no sense in denying them. Something like that was easily traced.

“Gwyneth Gilpatric and I were old friends,” he had told the detective. “After my wife died, I kind of fell apart and Gwyneth took it upon herself to help me out. She was very loyal.”

“And very generous,” added the detective, but he seemed to accept Emmett's explanation. It had the ring of truth. Among those who had lived in Cliffside Park for a long time, it was fairly common knowledge that Emmett Walsh had a drinking problem. Over the years, he had floated from one job to the next. People had wondered how he managed to hold on to his house and send his daughter to an expensive private college.

When the detective left, Emmett opened a beer and hoped that that would be the end of it. But two hours and a six-pack later, Laura called, with her news of Ricky Potenza.

He had lived in fear for years of Ricky coming forward, never dreaming that his own daughter would one day be urging Ricky to tell what he knew.

Emmett crushed the aluminum beer can and tossed it at the barrel of empties.
Missed.

The past was closing in on him from all sides.

83

Friday, January 14

F
RIDAY MORNING
, L
AURA
made a trip upstairs to the
KEY News
library. The clippings that lined hundreds of yards of shelves were a treasure trove of information.

Years before the arrival of the computer, with its accompanying easy access to thousands of sources of information around the world,
KEY News
librarians had sat at their desks and quietly scanned the pages of newspapers and magazines. They cut out articles of interest and filed them in manila folders, keeping a running historical account of various people and subjects. The electronic age made the librarians' searches less necessary, but the clipping files were still updated.

Laura cruised the stacks until she found the
PALISADES AMUSEMENT PARK
file. She pulled it from its high shelf and carried it to a desk near the library window.

Bright, clear morning sunlight streamed in, bleaching out the faded, yellowing newspaper articles. Laura turned the clippings carefully until she found the one she was looking for.

A Cliffside Park police officer named Edward Alford was quoted in the story on the disappearance of Tommy Cruz.

Laura xeroxed the clipping, returned it to its pale yellow folder and refiled it in the
P
section on the shelf. She was about to go back to her office when she impulsively stopped two aisles over.

GATES, BILL
.

GIFFORD, FRANK
.

GIGANTE, VINCENT “THE CHIN.”

GILBERT AND SULLIVAN
.

Laura flipped through the files.
GILPATRIC, GWYNETH
.

She stood in the aisle, scanning the stories and pictures. The file had already been updated with newspaper accounts of Gwyneth's death. Laura dug deeper into the file. The last item was a then-dark-haired Gwyneth Gilpatric's high school yearbook picture. The one Laura had used in her obit.

84

Saturday, January 15

L
AURA WAS READY
for it when the weekend finally came. It had been an intense week and she was glad to have the break. Spending Saturday morning with her delightful Jade was just what the doctor ordered.

As they worked on math problems together, Laura observed her bright little student.
What a good mind she had!
Laura hoped that they would continue their relationship through the years and that she could help to ensure that Jade would develop her full potential.

Now that she would have more money than she ever dreamed of, Laura realized that she could assist Jade with more than her time. As important as her physical and mental input could be to the child, when push came to shove, Jade would need cash if she was going to go all the way with her education. How wonderful to be able to provide that!

Watching Jade concentrate on the arithmetic worksheet, Laura remembered back to the time when she was applying to colleges. She had been so worried that Emmett would not be able to afford anything but a community college. But, to his credit, her father had told her to apply to any university she wanted. They would find the money, he said.

When the acceptance letter arrived from Holy Cross, she had held her breath as she presented it to him, knowing that the tuition and room and board cost more than Emmett earned in a year. So focused was she on her own youthful dream that she pushed from her mind the question of how Emmett was going to manage to pay when her father told her she could go to Holy Cross.

Now Detective Ortiz's questions were forcing her to look at the situation she had been happy to ignore. Though her father denied it, Laura's gut told her that Emmett had been getting the checks from Gwyneth. That would explain why, though he was often out of work, there had always been food on the table and heat in the house. That would explain why she had been able to go to summer camp for a few weeks each summer. That would explain how she had a new coat each winter as she spurted through her adolescent growth in the years after her mother died. That would explain the expensive watch as a college graduation present.

But why? Why would the famous Gwyneth Gilpatric send money to Laura's alcoholic father? What was the connection between them?

Jade proudly presented her completed math assignment for Laura to check.

“One hundred percent right!” Laura exclaimed. “Good job!”

Jade beamed in the glow of her mentor's praise as Laura put her arm around the child's shoulder and hugged her. Laura was growing to love Jade. She suspected that she was getting as much of an emotional payoff from their relationship as Jade was benefitting mentally from their time together. It felt good to help someone, to make some sort of difference in a young person's life.

As they got ready to play African-American
Jeopardy!,
Laura's thoughts turned to her conversation with Joel Malcolm. Though Laura had been completely unaware of it, Gwyneth had arranged for Laura to intern at
Hourglass.
Unknowingly, Laura had been helped by Gwyneth Gilpatric for many years. And Gwyneth Gilpatric had made sure that Laura would be taken care of for the rest of her life.

Why?

85

M
AXINE
B
RONNER WAS
practicing Mozart's Sonata No. 1 on the piano when the ringing of the telephone interrupted her. She answered resignedly, expecting another one of those nuisance calls from somebody trying to sell something. Replacement windows, a home security system, another magazine subscription.

She was pleasantly surprised when she heard the caller's voice.

“Laura! How good to hear from you, dear.”

“You may not think so when you hear that I want something again.” Laura laughed uneasily. “I'm trying to track down a policeman who worked on the Tommy Cruz case. I've tried information and there is no listing for him. The Cliffside Park police won't give me any information on his whereabouts, either. I was hoping that you might know him. His name is Edward Alford.”

Maxine recognized the name immediately. “Yes. I know Eddie Alford. His wife, Dorothy, and I used to play bridge together.”

Pay dirt.
“Do you have their number?” Laura asked excitedly.

“They moved to Florida a few years ago,” Maxine mused, as she pulled the telephone extension cord and crossed the kitchen to her small desk there. Picking up her worn leather address book, she opened to the first page. “Yes. Here it is. Alford.” She recited the telephone number. “I don't think Eddie would mind you calling. He's a terrific man.”

Laura was uncomfortable about taking further advantage of her relationship with her former teacher, but she asked her next question anyway.

“Do you have the Cruzes' phone number, too?”

86

Sunday, January 16

“M
AN
! I
CAN'T
believe this is all yours!” Francheska shook her head in amazement as Laura escorted her through the rooms of Gwyneth's apartment.

“I can't either.”

They reached Gwyneth's bedroom. The walls were covered with hand-painted silk; an eighteenth-century French Aubusson was spread on the floor. A high-canopied bed dominated the room, its mahogany posters decorated with intricately carved birds, butterflies and stalks of wheat. Braided pillows festooned the headboard and custom linens beckoned invitingly.

“Are you actually going to sleep in that thing?” asked Francheska.

“Pretty intimidating, isn't it?”