Fool Me Twice

29

It was late afternoon when Jesse parked in front of Ida Fearnley’s Craftsman bungalow in the north end of Paradise. Lush mountain laurel and rhododendrons, still green, gave the property an air of seclusion. Elm and maple trees, yellow and red, cast shadows on the lawn.

Jesse lowered the windows of his cruiser and breathed the cool afternoon air. Above, large cirrus clouds hung heavy with the promise of rain.

Ida’s Lincoln pulled into her driveway. It took her a few moments to extricate herself from behind the wheel.

She noticed Jesse leaning against his cruiser.

“I think it’s time we had a little chat, Ida,” Jesse said.

“On or off the record?”

“However you’d like it.”

“Off. I suppose you’ll be wanting coffee.”

“Coffee would be good.”

She climbed the steps to her porch and motioned for him to follow as she unlocked the door and opened it.

Inside, they were greeted by two oversized tortoiseshell cats, who wove between Ida’s legs as she walked down the hall.

“Sadie. Cybill. Enough,” Ida said.

It was only after she poured some dry food into their bowls that they settled down.

Ida fired up the coffeemaker. She took out a box of ladyfingers and placed several on a plate in front of Jesse, who sat at her kitchen table.

“I can’t say I’m surprised by your visit,” Ida said as she waited for the coffee to brew. “You’ve certainly managed to upset him.”

She poured two cups and brought them to the table. She put them down, then she put herself down, heavily, on the chair across from Jesse. She sighed deeply as she sat.

“What do you know,” she said.

Jesse told her.

“He’s involved. Both he and Oscar.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Over the last few years, as he became less and less relevant at the state level, he became more and more militant here. At first it was just the ranting. How many people on the planet go to bed thirsty? Waterborne diseases are the leading cause of death in children under the age of five? You know, stuff like that.”

“And?”

“Nobody took him seriously.”

“Why, do you suppose?”

“Lots of reasons. He was from a small town. He had no clout. His issues were perceived as politically inconvenient. He visited the state capitol regularly and got nowhere fast. What remains unspoken is that he was the subject of ridicule down there. The way he dressed, his size, his voice . . . after a day spent being diminished by the Springfield old boys’ club, it took him weeks to recover. He told me it was like the schoolyard all over again. Only this time he was being bullied insidiously.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I think the critical moment came when he made the leaky-pipes proposal. He had personally authorized a study which proved that the pipes carrying fresh water from the Massachusetts reservoirs to the neighborhoods in and around Paradise were old and profusely leaking, costing the state millions of gallons of wasted water. He made a proposal to have those pipes either replaced or repaired. They ignored him. I think that’s when he snapped.”

“Meaning?”

“What you suspected. He and Oscar worked out a scheme which identified those who they believed were the biggest abusers and then penalized them. When they realized that their scheme had gone undetected, they upped the ante. They went after everyone.”

“By falsifying the meter readings.”

“Yes.”

“How were they able to get away with it?”

“They jacked up the rates in such a way as to make the raises barely noticeable. They started with one percent and, over time, inched closer to three percent. Recently they exceeded it.”

“Which may have been the tipping point.”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s when the complaints began.”

Ida didn’t say anything.

“What did they do with the money?”

“Well, first they repaired the damaged pipes. Then they started to give it away. They made anonymous donations to drought-stricken territories around the world. I don’t really know any of the specifics. I heard him mention places like Africa and India. Disaster areas like Haiti and Japan. As I say, I don’t really know the details.”

They sat quietly, awkwardly, for a time. Jesse sipped his coffee. Ida ate several ladyfingers.

“Why didn’t you come forward with this?”

“I don’t know, Jesse. I suppose I should have. But I couldn’t. He’s a visionary. He means everything to me.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“After so many years of working with someone, you grow close. You come to admire him, to believe in him. You never question his values because over time they have also become yours. They were so cruel to him. They couldn’t see beyond his appearance. They humiliated him. He’d come back from his meetings so dispirited. It broke my heart.”

“So you looked the other way?”

“I guess. At first I didn’t know. They met behind closed doors. Oscar was his acolyte. He worshipped the man. William was most likely the first person who ever took him seriously. Oscar would do anything for him.”

“Including falsifying records.”

Ida didn’t say anything.

“When did you learn?”

“The meetings became more frequent. I was being asked to produce past records. Instructed to intercept invoices prior to their being sent. I suppose that’s when I really knew. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit it.”

“When was that?”

“A while ago.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I guess I’m in trouble,” she said.

“I don’t know, Ida. This is all so improbable. Have you any sense of the overall size of the thefts?”

“The thefts?”

“That’s what they were.”

“Yes. I guess I can see that.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Have any idea of the overall size of the thefts.”

“My guess is they were big. Not Madoff big, but significant.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“There is one thing,” Ida said.

“What’s that?”

“There’s been tension between them of late. Ever since you started nosing around.”

“Between Oscar and William?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It has something to do with money. They’ve taken to arguing. A lot. Which they never did before.”

“Over money?”

“Yes.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“What will happen to him,” she said.

“He’s likely to be held accountable.”

“Does that mean jail time?”

“I’m a cop, Ida, not a judge.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I need to mull this over for a while.”

“He wouldn’t do well in jail.”

“I know.”

“I don’t suppose I would, either,” she said.