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------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- “There’s a poetry open mic at the Wellfleet Library, Morrie. Joan is going to read, and I want to hear her. You don’t have to come.” ------- “I’ll come.” Morris surprised himself. ------- The meeting room at the Library was almost full. Morris knew nothing about poetry. He liked some of the poems and disliked others. The audience clapped loudly for everyone. Joan was quite good, which was a relief. ------- One of the last readers was a woman well up in her seventies. Martha Schneider’s poem was about her late husband. He must have died recently because the grief was powerful and raw. It was a fine poem but painful to listen to. Morris had rarely felt such emotion. He must be getting old. ------- “With you in a minute,” he told Terry. “I want to talk to her.” ------- Several people had stopped to speak to Martha after the session. When she finally stood alone, Morris approached her. ------- “That was very moving,” he said, “and I thought it was well done, although I don’t know much about poetry. You’ve been through a hard time.” ------- “I miss George terribly,” she said. “They say it’s supposed to get better, but they don’t say when. Have you ever lost anyone?” ------- “No one as important as your husband was to you,” Morris said. I think it will get better in time, but you’ll always have George with you.” ------- “I’ve begun to understand that,” the woman said. “I saw your wife. She’s quite a bit younger than you.” ------- “I’m lucky she’ll have me,” Morris said. “We’re not married, but I’ve made sure she’s taken care of financially.” He laughed. “I don’t know why I told you that. I’m not even sure why I had to talk with you. I’m Morris Lerner, from Eastham. I’m very sorry for your loss.” ------- “Thank you, Morris. You’re not a lawman are you? Police or FBI? There’s something strong about you.” ------- “I was a private agent once. I’m retired.” ------- “You must have been successful, you retired early. You wouldn’t consider one more case, would you? I think a ‘private agent’ may be just what I need.” ------- “I’m not for hire,” Morris said, “but I’ll help if I can. What’s the problem?” ------- “It’s rather complicated. Would you and Terry come to lunch at my house tomorrow? Afterwards, my companion could show her around the gardens while you and I talk.” ------- ------- “Wow, Morrie, you didn’t tell me she was this rich!” ------- “I didn’t know, Ter, but I’m not surprised. Fabulous garden.” ------- “I get to see it with her companion. Whoopie.” ------- “He might be a handsome young guy, Lady Chatterly’s gardener. Don’t let him corner you in the potting shed.” ------- “Morris, you’re being silly. It really is a beautiful house. It’s sad to think of her alone in a place like this. Look, she’s waiting for us.” ------- -------Lunch was curried chicken salad with hot rolls and a delicious white wine. Martha was more cheerful than she’d been at the poetry reading. She’d grown up in Orleans, and she and Terry talked about how it had changed in recent years. Morris was happy just to listen. Martha seemed to know not to ask him about his past. -------Martha’s companion, a pleasant young woman, ate lunch with them and afterwards led Terry off for the promised tour of the gardens, both women giggling about the potting shed. Morris and Martha took their coffee to what had been George’s office. -------Martha got down to business immediately. “Someone is trying to kill me, Morris. I know I sound like an hysterical old woman, but read this. I’ve written it all out.” She handed him several printed pages. -------Morris read them carefully and laid them on the desk. -------“If this is true, Martha, it does seem like someone’s trying to kill you. Who would benefit from your death?” -------“My kids are all grown and very successful. It was a second marriage for both of us. George’s children already have their inheritance, which was substantial. He left me the house. With the acreage I suppose it’s worth ten to fifteen million in today’s market. It was much too big for us, but sometimes the kids come to visit. We thought of it as just the place we lived. The blindness of the rich. When I die, my estate will be divided among my children and George’s, with a few bequests to charities. They all know that, and they seem fine with it. Wouldn’t it be madness to risk trying to hurrying me to my reward at my age? I’m sure the Coalition for the Homeless could use the money, too,but I don’t believe they’d bump me off.” -------“Do the police know about the attempts on your life?” -------“No, and I know it’s dumb not to tell them, but I couldn’t bear that kind of publicity just now.” -------“Martha, how did George die?” ------- “He drove his Jaguar into a tree. Some people thought it was suicide, but I’m sure he just lost control. We were having too much fun. He probably shouldn’t have been driving.” ------- “Nothing suspicious? ------- “Not that I know of. You don’t think...George was murdered? Someone hated him that much, and now they’re after me?” ------- “Is that possible? Could someone have hated him, or feared him? What did George do for a living?” -------“He was an investment banker. He started Palmasola Investments back in the sixties and was its CEO until he retired, but that was all long before we even met. I think he was still associated with them in some way. He made several trips to Florida every year. Why? What is it, Morris? You know something!” -------“Your husband was murdered, Martha, but maybe you’d rather I didn’t tell you this?” -------“I’m seventy-eight, Morris. George is safe from everything, and I don’t care about myself. I want to know. Oh God, don’t tell me Palmasola is one of those ponzi schemes?” -------“No, pretty much the opposite in fact. It’s a very conservative fund. Everyone involved in it is guaranteed to make money. The investments aren’t the problem, it’s the investors. Palmasola is a huge money laundering operation. I know that for certain. This burglary you mentioned in your notes happened during the funeral?” -------“The police said that’s not uncommon. The criminals read the papers. They took George’s desk apart, looking for cash the police said, and they stole his computer, which wasn’t an expensive one. They didn’t take much. You think they were looking for something about Palmasola?” -------“That would be my guess. George may have done or said something to make them lose confidence in him. Did he say anything to you, give you anything before he was killed?” -------“The nicest present he ever gave me,” Martha said, “for our fiftieth anniversary.” She opened the glass doors of a bookcase and took out a small volume. “This is a first edition of Emily Dickinson’s collected poems. It’s the most valuable thing in the house, but the thieves wouldn’t know that.” -------She handed it to Morris. He looked it over carefully and gave it back to her. -------“It’s a lovely book, but it may have lost a little of its value. Look at the back cover. It’s slightly thicker than the front, and the endpaper is a lighter shade. Can you feel something inside the cover? I believe it’s a computer disk, George’s hold card. It’s probably a run down on the whole operation. There’s no guarantee, but if you turn it over to the FBI, that might end your troubles.” -------“Won’t they be angry at me? Whoever they are.” -------“Gangsters tend to be practical. Once the beans are spilled, killing you gets them nothing, but you’re right, they can get angry like anyone else. Of course if the FBI handles it properly, there’s no reason anyone would ever know you were involved. But you know, Martha, I may have an even better idea. If you trust me, we could take the disk out now. I can make a copy, and I’ll find a way to get it to the FBI that leaves us both out of it.” -------“Would you, Morris? I do trust you. I came to you after all. And even if you were one of the gangsters, you could just take the disk and know that I can’t hurt you. Isn’t that right?” -------“You’re a smart woman, Martha. If I were a gangster, I might agree with you. But let’s not take the chance. I think you should leave suddenly on an extended tour of South Africa. Could you do that?” -------“That sounds like a splendid idea, Morris. I don’t know how to thank you.” -------“I had a thought about that, too,” Morris said. “Maybe when you come back from Africa you can teach me how to write a poem.” ------- ------- ------- ------- |