Redemption

Chapter 18

Trammel, Ohio.

Decker had never been here, though it was only a two-hour drive southwest of Burlington. It wasn’t that far mileage-wise, but the only way there was mostly over state routes and rural back roads.

Trammel’s downtown looked just like a photo of his hometown, right down to the dinginess and despair, alleviated by the glimpses of hope in the form of a new business opening and the foundation of a building being dug. And young faces on the sidewalks, and late-model cars on the streets.

Mitzi Gardiner lived in what Decker would call the upscale part of town, made up of large old homes where Trammel’s elite had once lived, and where the new money had now congregated. They were large and brick with a past century’s small windows, immaculately landscaped lawns with mature trees and bushes, and more modern additions tacked on by recent owners. Most had gated front entrances and luxury cars parked in the curved drives.

After being buzzed in through the gate, he walked up to the front door, noting the precisely laid-out planting beds, though the flowers had withered or else died out as fall deepened to winter. The house’s windows were sparkling clean, the brick veneer seemed to have just been power-washed, and the front double doors looked like a fresh coat of paint had just been applied to them.

Neat, nice, monied. All the things Mitzi Gardiner had never been when Decker first met her. She’d been an unemployed drug addict and petty criminal who would steal and prostitute herself out to anyone to support her habit. He remembered her as tall, scrawny, and pasty, with needle-tracked arms and a deviated septum from all the snorted coke. Her pupils had been dilated, her movements jerky and largely out of her control. A wreck of a human being.

He knocked on the door and immediately heard footsteps approaching. He had phoned ahead. She knew he was coming.

When the door opened, Decker could hardly believe his own eyes. Or, even more incredibly, his infallible memory.

The woman gazing back at him was around forty, tall, shapely, her blonde hair done in such a way as to maximize both its fullness and attractiveness. She wore a pale blue dress that flattered her hips and showed a glimpse of cleavage, a simple necklace with one emerald at the throat, and a large diamond engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand. Her makeup and complexion were perfect. The once-destroyed septum had been fully repaired. The eyes held not a hint of dilation. The teeth were white and perfect and no doubt veneers, for her drug habit had left her own teeth gray and diseased, he recalled.

She must have registered his surprise. “It’s been a long time, Detective Decker,” she commented, her full lips curving into a self-satisfied smile at his amazed look.

“Yes, it has. I’m glad to see that you’ve...”

“Turned my life around? Yes, I have. Years of bad choices followed by some far better ones. Would you like to come in?”

She led him inside and then to an old-fashioned conservatory at the back of the house overlooking the pool and manicured rear grounds. A uniformed maid came in with a tray of coffee. Mitzi poured out the coffee after the maid departed.

“I assume you’d heard about your father before I contacted you?” said Decker, his cup cradled in one big hand.

“I saw the news, yes,” she said.

“As next of kin you’ll probably be called on to make a formal ID. I mean, we know it’s him. It’s just a formality.”

“I would prefer not to. In fact, I would prefer to have nothing to do with it.”

“He is your father.”

“And he also killed four people.”

“He has no other family left. And there’s the matter of burial.”

“They must have protocols for that when someone can’t afford to be buried. Can’t they just cremate him?”

Decker let his gaze wander around the sumptuous interior of the conservatory. “I guess so, for those who can’t pay for it.”

“I know you must think I’m a terrible person, Detective Decker. But the fact is I haven’t seen my father since he went to prison for murdering those people.”

“You never visited him there?”

“Why would I?” She leaned in closer to him. “I have a new life that I worked really hard on. Brad, my husband, doesn’t know anything, really, of my past. I moved from Burlington, cleaned up my act, legally changed my last name, finished college, started working in the financial field, and met my husband. We married, and now I’m a full-time mom and loving it.”

Decker looked around. “What does your husband do? It must pay well.”

“It does. He runs his own high-end job placement platform.”

“High-end?”

“Corporate executives, law and finance, manufacturing, Silicon Valley and all its high-tech positions, lobbying, defense industry, even government positions. He’s been very successful.”

“All that’s way out of my league.”

Mitzi paused to take a sip of her coffee. “So you see, I have no desire to revisit that part of my life. And I really don’t want my family to know about my... struggles. In fact, as far as my husband knows, I’m an orphan. And I guess now I am.”

“I recall that your mother died before your father even went on trial.”

“Thank God. It would have crushed her.”

“Did your father try to contact you, either while he was in prison or after he got out?”

“He wrote me letters when he was in prison. But I never wrote back. After I moved, I didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“And after he left prison?”

“I had no idea. I thought he was in prison for life.”

“So apparently did everyone else. Including him.”

“Why was he released? The news didn’t say.”

“He was terminally ill. The state didn’t want to foot the bill, apparently.”

She nodded but made no comment.

“And you’re sure he didn’t try to contact you?”

“He’d have no way of knowing where I was. They said someone killed him? Are you sure it wasn’t suicide? You said he was dying.”

“No, couldn’t be suicide. I can’t tell you why, but just trust me on that.”

She sat back. “That’s so bizarre. Who would want to hurt him? It’s been so many years.”

“Some people carry long grudges.”

“You mean the widows? What were their names again?”

“Susan Richards and Rachel Katz.”

“I assume you’ve checked with them.”

“We have.”

“And?”

“And we’re following up.”

“So what do you want with me? On the phone you just said you wanted to talk. I know nothing about the murder of my father.”

“I want to talk to you about the murders he was convicted of.”

“Why?”

“What if your father didn’t commit them?”

Her features sagged. “That’s crazy. Of course he did.”

“And you know for sure how?”

“Like you just said, he was convicted of them. You helped convict him. His fingerprints and DNA were found at the house.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that he came back to Burlington proclaiming his innocence? That he wanted me to prove it?”

“Would it surprise me? No. But it would surprise me if you took it seriously.”

“Maybe it would surprise me too. But he comes back saying he’s innocent and then somebody kills him, on the same day?”

“Like I said, you have two potential suspects.”

“The widows. Did you know they still live in Burlington?”

“Why would I?” she said quickly.

“Well, you said they would be on your list of suspects. They’d sort of have to live in Burlington to make it happen that fast.”

“Oh, well, I guess I assumed.”

“Can I take you through the case again?”

“Do we really have to? I’ve worked hard to put this behind me.”

“It’s really important. And it won’t take long.”

She looked at her watch. “It can’t take too long. My husband and I are going out to dinner later. I’d really prefer that you weren’t here when he arrives. It would take too much explaining.”

“I’ll be as expeditious as I can.”

She sighed, poured another cup of coffee, and sat back, looking at him expectantly.

“Your father went out that day around three, you said.”

“I think that’s right. It’s been a long time.”

“That’s what your statement said.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Okay then, whatever.”

“They found him very early the next morning walking along a part of town that I would have described back then as being pretty dangerous.”

“Okay?”

“Had he ever been to that part of town before?”

“Not that I was aware.”

“Had you ever been to that part of town?”

She frowned. “What, do you mean when I was looking for drugs to buy? I don’t know. Maybe.”

“He had the opportunity to give us an alibi but never did. He said he was just walking in the rain. Something no one could corroborate.”

She spread her hands but said nothing.

“Before that we came to your house to find him. But he wasn’t there. You said he’d gone out.”

“That’s right.”

“And he never told you where he was going?”

“No. We didn’t talk much back then.”

“Yet you’d come back home to live.”

“I had nowhere else to go. Look, I was a total druggie back then. You know that and I know that. My mother was dying and needed looking after and I couldn’t even provide that.”

“So your father looked after her?”

Gardiner hesitated.

“Your statement didn’t really say one way or the other,” Decker added helpfully.

“We didn’t always see eye to eye, but I have to give credit where credit is due. My dad really cared about Mom. He did what he could. After he lost his job they had almost no money. And her pain was awful.” She involuntarily shuddered.

“She was hooked up to a drip line that night,” noted Decker. “I remember seeing it.”

“Yeah, well, half the time there were no pain meds in that IV bag. They couldn’t afford them. Fucking insurance companies.” She caught herself, put a hand to her mouth, and added, “Sorry, it’s still kind of a sore subject with me.”

“So your mother had insurance?”

“Until my dad got laid off. Then they couldn’t afford to stay on the insurance. And cancer was a preexisting condition. So they couldn’t get another policy anyway.”

“What did he do?”

“He worked every odd job he could and used the money to get what he could from local doctors.”

“But then he was arrested and held until trial. What then?”

“She suffered incredibly,” said Gardiner, her eyes filling with tears. “My mother was in terrible pain and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“Until she passed away?”

“Yes. Fortunately, she died in her sleep soon after.” She shook her head. “She worked so hard her whole life.”

“What did she do?”

“She was born near Columbus. She was smart but never had a chance to go to college. She worked at OSU. In the cafeteria, when she was in her twenties.”

“I actually played football there.”

“Really?” She looked him over. “I guess you’re plenty big enough. Then she met my dad and they got married. He was working at a manufacturing plant, I think, up near Toledo. They met on a blind date, or so my mom told me. Love at first sight, Meryl and Lisa. Then I came along soon after.” She paused. “They had a nice life. Until I grew up and screwed everything up.”

“With your drug addiction?”

She nodded. “Look, they tried to get me help, but I kept relapsing. Nothing I did seemed to work. I tried, but it was damn hard.”

“It is damn hard, but give yourself some credit. You finally kicked it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Had your father ever mentioned the Richardses? Or David Katz?”

“No, never. I didn’t even know he knew them.”

“Well, he might not have.”

“Well, then why did he go to that house?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? Susan Richards and Rachel Katz also testified that neither of them knew him, and weren’t aware that their husbands did either.”

“So it was a random burglary, then? He just drove around—”

“Walked. He didn’t have a car other than the one that was parked in front of your house all that day and well into the night. We confirmed that with witnesses from your old neighborhood.”

“He could have stolen a car,” she pointed out.

“That’s true. But no car was seen approaching the Richardses’ house that night except for David Katz’s.”

“Wasn’t it raining like crazy that night? How could anyone say for sure they didn’t see a car?”

“Fair point. Talk to me about the discovery of the murder weapon at your parents’ home.”

“What about it?”

“It was found behind a wall panel in your parents’ closet?”

“Okay. So?”

“Did you know about that panel?”

“No. I’d never been in their closet. I never had any reason to.”

“And one of the techs found it?”

“I think so.”

“You were there?”

“I had to be. I couldn’t leave my mother alone.”

“So you were there on the day of the murders and then afterwards?”

“Yes. Again, I couldn’t leave her alone.”

“And you never saw your father after the time of the murders?”

“No. I never left the house. I answered the door when you and your partner showed up that night.”

“That’s right.”

She looked at her watch. “Now, if there’s nothing else?”

“There’s just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“How did the gun get in the closet?”

“What?”

“If your father didn’t come home after the murders, how did the gun he used to kill those people end up behind the panel in the closet?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Maybe you were asleep? Or...?”

“Or maybe I was stoned out of my mind?” she said, a bitter look on her face.

“When we came to interview you later that night, you were sort of out of it.”

“Then there’s your answer. My father came home, hid the gun, and then left again. And neither my mother nor I saw him.”

“Right, that would explain it. And the stuff he stole never turned up.”

“I don’t know anything about that. You didn’t find it in our house.”

“No, we didn’t. And we looked for it.”

“Okay.” She made a show of looking at her watch again.

“He had five hundred dollars in his pocket. Any idea where that came from?”

“I assumed from him selling the stuff he stole.”

“Right, well, thanks for your time.”

She showed him out. At the door Gardiner said, “I’m not really sure why you’re putting yourself through this, Detective Decker.”

“That thought had crossed my mind.”

Decker walked down the drive and the gates automatically opened as he approached them. When he got to his car, he suddenly looked back at the house in time to see a curtain on one of the front windows flutter closed.

He got into the car thinking that people were interesting. Sometimes they just couldn’t distinguish the truth from bullshit. Sometimes they didn’t want to. It was often easier just to believe a lie.

He drove off with more questions than he’d started the trip with.

And for some reason, that made him happy.

Amos Decker actually smiled as he drove back to Burlington.

He stopped smiling when something rammed into his car on a back road in the middle of nowhere.