Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

14

Jesse climbed the steps of the small craftsman and rang the bell. The house was part of a development, one of a large number of identical dwellings situated on a subdivided tract of property that was once farmland.

After several moments, Madeleine Lee opened the door and stood for a moment, giving Jesse the once-over.

“Ah,” she said, “the police chief arriveth. And still fine-looking, too, I might add. What’s your secret?”

“Debauchery,” Jesse said.

“Just as I suspected. Come in.”

Jesse followed her through the modest living/dining room to the kitchen, where she offered him coffee that he gratefully accepted. They sat at her table, in the cheerful room where her eclectic decorative tastes were on display and the tools of her legendary cooking prowess hung haphazardly above the stove on dark steel s-hooks.

Madeleine Lee was a firebrand, standing only five feet tall, well into her seventies and still a powder keg of energy and irony.

“You wanted to talk about Sheldon,” she said, glancing at Jesse as she placed a steaming mug of black coffee in front of him, accompanied by a plateful of her legendary homemade cinnamon cookies. She sat across from him.

“I did,” he said.

“Something to do with Golden Horizons, was it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said. “Talk.”

Jesse took a sip of coffee and a bite of one of the cookies.

“There’s nothing like your cinnamon cookies, Madeleine.”

“Don’t you worry, Jesse,” she said. “I’ve already prepared a goody bag for you to take with you.”

Jesse smiled.

“Did you ever have any issues when Sheldon was at Golden Horizons,” he said.

“Issues?”

“Anything that you felt might have been out of the ordinary.”

Madeleine shifted in her chair.

“He wasn’t an easy one for them, you know. Particularly at the end.”

“In what way?”

“The more he lapsed into his dementia, the harder he was to deal with.”

“How so?”

“He was always a troublemaker, you know. When he had all of his marbles, he was great fun. When he lost them, he was impossible. He had taken to prowling the halls and pouncing on unsuspecting patients. Women. He was a groper, and not everyone appreciated him.”

“What did they do about it?”

“They gave him downers.”

“With your permission?”

“I wasn’t always aware of them doing it.”

“Meaning?”

“I wasn’t around a whole lot. It was painful for me to see him in such a state. He didn’t know me. And, worse, I didn’t know him. Who he had become.”

“But they kept him there just the same.”

“They did. He was worth a good deal of money to them, what with his insurance and all.”

She thought for a while.

“I don’t want you to think he was always impossible,” she said. “He did have the occasional good day.”

“I understand,” Jesse said. “Did you ever see any incidents of mistreatment?”

Madeleine sat quietly for several moments. Then she said, “I did.”

“What did you see?”

“Once in a while I would slip in after visiting hours were over. Mostly late at night. When I was feeling particularly blue and I was missing him. When I was feeling sentimental.”

“And?”

“I once found him tied to his bed. They untied him when I complained.”

“How did you complain?”

“I spoke to the man in charge. Some Brit. He told me that Sheldon had been caught chasing one of the women. He said that tying him to the bed was for his own good.”

“Anything else?”

“He was generally asleep when I got there. I’d sit with him until an attendant would discover me and ask me to leave.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“It’s funny,” she said. “He looked so peaceful and innocent when he was asleep. I didn’t really question anything until after he’d passed.”

“Meaning?”

“I think he overdosed.”

Jesse looked at her.

“Overdosed?”

“I never said this to anyone before, but I don’t believe he had been ready to die.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a feeling. Although he was definitely deep into dementia, he wasn’t really physically ill. He was still relatively healthy. His death was unexpected. At least it was to me.”

“And to Golden Horizons?”

“Dr. Morrow told me that Sheldon had managed to live longer than they had predicted.”

“Did you question him about that?”

“No. I didn’t have the heart for it. I probably should have.”

“Did they perform an autopsy?”

“I told them it wasn’t necessary. I said to call it a natural death and leave it at that. I mean, he was old and suffering from an irreversible disease. What would have been the point.”

Madeleine paused, deep in thought for a while. Then she said, “Now I regret it.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I’m haunted by the idea that he didn’t die from natural causes. That I had somehow let him down. That they may have inadvertently killed him.”

“Do you want to investigate this?”

She looked at him.

“No,” she said. “I’m an old lady. No one will take me seriously. Especially since I have no real proof. It’s been nearly a year that he’s gone. I haven’t the stomach for the mishigas I’d bring down on myself if I opened my mouth. It would be torture. The high-powered lawyers they’d throw at me would make it very difficult to win anything other than more stress and anxiety.”

Jesse looked at her.

“I understand,” he said.

“Was this at all helpful to you, Jesse,” Madeleine said. “I had no idea that I’d open these floodgates.”

“If you decide to do something about it, you’ll let me know?”

“I will.”

“I don’t like that place,” Jesse said.

“Meaning?”

“There’s something smarmy about it.”

“And you’re planning to do something about it?”

“Maybe.”

“What would you do?”

“Seek vengeance.”

“And how would you do that?”

“Nonconventionally,” he said.