Daddy's Gone a Hunting

30

At four thirty Friday afternoon Jessica picked up Hannah for the drive out the island to the funeral home in Little Neck where the wake for Gus Schmidt was being held. Hannah had changed into a black and white tweed suit, one of her own designs. As Hannah got into the car, Jessie said approvingly, “You always look so put-together. I, on the other hand, manage to give the appearance of someone who closed her eyes, reached into the closet, and grabbed for the nearest hanger.”

“Not true,” Hannah said matter-of-factly, “and in fact it’s insulting. I helped you pick out that suit in Saks and it looks great on you.” She tossed her rain cape over to the backseat, where it landed next to Jessie’s trench coat.

“My mistake. I forgot that you helped me pick it out,” Jessie said ruefully as she stepped on the gas and skillfully maneuvered her Volkswagen between two double-parked cars.

“Anyway, you were just making conversation, which is very nice of you,” Hannah said, “but it isn’t necessary. I admit I’m nervous about seeing Lottie Schmidt. But it has to be done.”

“You know and she knows that there has to be a reasonable explanation for Kate and Gus to have gone to the complex the other night. As soon as Kate comes out of the coma, we’ll find out what it is,” Jessie said firmly.

Hannah did not answer.

Jessie waited until she had turned the car onto Thirty-fourth Street, heading to the Queens-Midtown Tunnel, before she said, “Hannah, have you learned something that you’re not telling me?” Then she added, “I am Kate’s lawyer. It is absolutely critical that you tell me what you know so that I can properly represent her. Do you understand how important this is? And don’t worry, should Kate be charged with a crime, I don’t have to tell the DA anything I find out on my own.”

As Hannah listened, she felt almost paralyzed with fear. Kate was still in critical condition. At any moment she could die or, if she recovered, she could be brain damaged. If she did recover and was found guilty of blowing up the complex and causing Gus’s death, she could end up spending most of the rest of her life in prison. It was a scenario that, like a drum banging mournfully, was always repeating itself in her mind.

“Okay, Jessie, I understand.” Kate did not volunteer anything more.

Jessie gave her a worried glance but decided not to press her further. They drove the rest of the way in awkward silence and arrived at the funeral home in forty-five minutes.

As Jessie pulled into the driveway to the parking lot, she said, “Look who’s going inside!” Hannah turned her head quickly and was dismayed to see the two fire marshals opening the door of the funeral home. “Do you think we should wait a while in the car and try to avoid them?”

Jessie shook her head. “My guess is that they’ll stay around and strike up a conversation with any of the people who worked with Gus who may be here. Let’s go.”

In the entrance room, a solemn-faced attendant directed them to the room where Gus Schmidt’s casket had been placed. Hannah was surprised to see the room already filled. A long line had formed to greet Lottie and Gretchen, who were standing by the closed, flower-covered casket.

Jessie touched her arm. “Let a few more people get in the line. I don’t want to be directly behind the marshals.”

Hannah nodded. They moved to the left behind the last row of chairs, most of which were occupied. From where she was standing, she could see that Lottie was composed, but Gretchen had a handkerchief balled in her hand and was frequently raising it to dab her eyes.

A few minutes later, Jessie whispered, “There are more people in line behind the marshals. We can go over there now.”

A moment after they took their place in line, a woman came up behind them and said to Hannah, “I recognize you from your picture in the newspapers. How is your sister?”

Hannah turned and looked into the concerned eyes of a slender woman who appeared to be in her late forties. “She’s holding her own. Thank you for asking.”

“My husband came separately. Would you mind if I went ahead and joined him?” She pointed to Fire Marshal Frank Ramsey.

It was Jessie who answered, “Of course not.” They watched as the woman asked the same question of the men directly ahead of them and then slipped into the line between her husband and Nathan Klein.

“There’s no way she’s here just because he’s investigating the explosion,” Jessie whispered. “She’s got to have some connection with the family. I want to try to hear what she has to say to them.”

Jessie moved to the side and stepped forward until she was at the foot of the casket. She heard both fire marshals extend their sympathy to Lottie and Gretchen. Then she heard Ramsey’s wife say, “Lottie, I’m Celia Ramsey. I don’t know if you remember me, but you and I were in chemotherapy together at Sloan-Kettering five years ago. We went through a lot together. I’m so sorry about your loss. I could always see how devoted Gus was to you.”

Celia turned to Gretchen. “Gretchen, I’m so sorry. I remember when I met you at Sloan, you had just bought your new home. You were showing me pictures of it.”

Gretchen’s face lit up. She shoved the soggy handkerchief into the pocket of her black pantsuit. “You can’t imagine how even more beautiful it is with all the work I’ve done, both inside and out. And I’m growing plants and vegetables in my conservatory,” she said enthusiastically. She looked over at her mother, whose expression did not change. “Mama, it doesn’t matter if I show Celia some pictures, does it? I mean she’s already seen pictures of the house.”

Lottie did not answer. She simply watched as her daughter stepped out of the receiving line, hurried over to a seat in the front row, and reached for her pocketbook. Then Lottie turned her attention back to the people in line. Soon Hannah was before her.

Before Hannah could express her sympathy, Lottie, her voice so low that Hannah had to lean forward to hear her, said, “The police are convinced that Gus and Kate intentionally set that fire.”

“They’re suspicious, yes,” Hannah said quietly. “I don’t think they’re convinced by any means.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Lottie replied fiercely, “but I do know my husband is dead. If your sister convinced him to set this fire, it would be better off if she dies, unless she would prefer to spend years in prison.”

Heartsick, Hannah realized that Lottie was afraid that Gus and Kate had set the fire. Was she telling that to the fire marshals? Knowing now that Lottie wanted no part of her sympathy, Hannah turned away. Gretchen, seated in the first row with Celia Ramsey beside her, had her iPad on her lap and was enthusiastically pointing out details in the pictures she was displaying on the screen.

Marshal Frank Ramsey had quietly slipped into the seat on Gretchen’s other side so that he, too, could see the pictures of her beautiful home in Minnetonka, Minnesota.

At that moment Hannah heard a plaintive moan and spun around in time to see Jessie try to grab and hold on to Lottie Schmidt as the frail woman collapsed to the ground in a faint.