Catch a Falling Knife

Chapter 19

King and I were taking our morning walk when the police arrested Mark. Maybe Detective Johnson planned it that way. He knew something about my habits and he didn’t want to get into a gunfight with me. Of course, I hadn’t owned a gun since the days of my youth spent on a farm where I had plinked tin cans and the occasional woodchuck with my . 22.

The police car passed me on the loop road around Silver Acres and I had immediate concern for Mark, but I rationalized that Detective Johnson drove an unmarked car so this must be somebody else. I didn’t see the car leave Silver Acres. I must have been on the other half of the loop when it did. However, when I returned to my apartment Mark was gone. I found a scribbled note that read, “I’ve been arrested.” It was signed, “M.”

I immediately called Sandra, but I got her answering machine. I left a message. I called Albert and caught him at home. I told him what I knew, which was almost nothing, and he said to keep him informed. I was glad that he appeared to be very concerned, although there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment. But at least I wasn’t alone in trying to defend Mark. Outside of our family Mark didn’t really have anybody to turn to because he was an orphan with no close relatives.

Next I called Burt Brown, the attorney. He wasn’t in his office yet so I left a message on his machine. I found the business card that Detective Johnson had given me and called his number, but of course he didn’t answer either so I left a message on his machine. With modern technology you could spend most of your life talking to machines.

At 9:30 I finally got a call from Burt. He apologized for the delay and said that he had gone to court early to get a client out of jail.

“Well, now you’ve got another client you have to get out of jail,” I said.

“Okay, Aunt Lillian, let’s take this one step at a time,” Burt said. “First we have to find out what he’s charged with.”

“I assume he’s charged with murder.”

“But on what evidence? As far as I know, the police don’t have enough evidence to charge him with anything. And if they can’t charge him they have to release him. If they have new evidence, as his attorney I’m entitled to know what it is.”

“How soon can you find out?”

“It may take some time. Until I do, I’m going to have to ask you not to talk to anybody connected with the case. Can you do that for me?”

I promised, reluctantly. The most difficult thing for me to do was nothing.

I had no reason not to attend the Thursday afternoon chess club. In fact, it would keep me out of trouble-trouble defined as involvement with anything to do with Elise’s murder. I had not heard from anybody since morning. Burt hadn’t called me again and Detective Johnson hadn’t called me at all. I guessed he wouldn’t call me unless he thought I could give him some information.

Wesley was at the chess club and I challenged him to a game. I wanted to get revenge for the defeat I had suffered at his hands two weeks before. I drew the black pieces so Wesley moved first. He liked to establish a solid position before he launched an offensive. I countered by setting up my defense as I looked for an opening. If he wasn’t going to attack, I would.

I started my offensive before I had my pieces positioned properly. I led with my queen too early in the game and it became vulnerable to attack by inferior pieces. While fighting to save my queen I had to give up material. Then we traded pieces and I played better, but Wesley ended up with two pawns on the board to my none. We each had our queen and king.

I had lost my chance for a win. All I could do was attempt to salvage a draw. With Wesley’s pawns threatening to become queens, themselves, I couldn’t afford to trade queens with him. I needed to be creative. I moved my king into the corner toward which his pawns were advancing in tandem and played cat-and-mouse with his king, checking him with my queen but backing off when he placed his queen between his king and my queen.

My opportunity came when he moved his queen into a position that shut off my king from all movement. I moved my queen next to his king, checking him and forcing him to capture my queen with his king. Ordinarily, losing the queen is disastrous, but in this case I was stalemated-not in check but not able to move without being in check. A stalemate is a draw.

Wesley threw up his hands and said, “They say a draw is like kissing your sister, but when you should have won it’s far worse.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I don’t have a sister.” The game had been a lesson to me. Something like “patience is a virtue.” When do we get old enough so that we’ve learned all the lessons? “Are you free for dinner?” I asked. “I’m sworn not to do anything about the murder right now, but I’ll feel better if I can talk about it.”

“Are you sure this young fellow has enough experience to defend Mark adequately?” Wesley asked when I had given him a rundown on what I knew.

We were sitting alone at one of the small tables in the dining room. Tess was off somewhere with one of her children and we hadn’t invited anybody else to eat with us.

“He’s been defending murder cases for several years,” I said, “as well as other felonies: armed robbery, drugs, the everyday crimes. If he needs help there are attorneys in his office with more experience than he has. I think he’ll do fine. What rankles me is not being able to participate. I hate doing nothing.”

“Tell me about it.” Wesley smiled. “You are the original ‘I’d rather do it myself’ person. Did you ever let your husband do anything for you?”

“I let him buy me flowers once in a while. And other presents, as long as I picked them out. Seriously, though, we were a partnership. He had an independent streak, also, but we worked very well together. Just ask Albert. We always agreed with each other on how to raise him so he could never play one of us against the other.”

“Well, since you’re grounded for the moment, would you like to come over to my place? I’ll show you the latest calligraphy I’ve done.”

“That sounds suspiciously like inviting me over to see your etchings.”

“You may have seen the statistics that show more than half the men over 60 are impotent. At my advanced age, you don’t have much to worry about.”

“As a statistician, what worries me is people who use statistics to promote their own causes.”

“I’ll give you a flower from my Easter rose and I’ve got some delicious liqueurs. We can get pleasantly warm together and tell each other lies about great bridge and chess games in which we’ve played.”

So this is how seduction is carried out in a retirement community.