“I don’t get it,” I said.
“What?” she said. I stopped the truck as she turned to me and put her forearms on my door. “What don’t you get?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just the fact that he doesn’t spend more time with you.”
She shook her head and looked up at the sky. “You gotta hell of a nerve saying something like that.”
“Sylvia, is this the way it’s going to be from now on? Are you always going to act like this?”
“Yes, Alex.” She pushed away from the truck. “So you better get used to it.”
“You know, I think I’ve got you figured out,” I said.
“Oh, do you. Do you really.”
“For the first time in your life, you didn’t get something you wanted. That’s the whole problem right there. You just hate the fact that I was the one who ended it.”
“Alex, there are only two things in this world that I hate. I hate living on this godforsaken frozen cliff on the end of the world. And I hate the fact that I was ever stupid enough to get involved with you. I mean, look at you. Look at this… thing you drive around in.”
“Sylvia, don’t.”
“You look like, what, like a lumberjack or something.”
“I’m warning you.”
“No, not even a lumberjack. He’s the guy who cuts down the trees, right? That takes some guts at least. You look like…You look like the guy who delivers the firewood, stacks it up next to the house. That’s what you look like.”
“Good-bye, Sylvia,” I said. “It’s been nice talking to you, as always.” I watched her grow smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror as I drove away.
It didn’t take long to get to the Fulton place. It had been built by Edwin’s grandfather back in the 1920s, and had been improved on several times by his father. The Fultons were old automotive money, and were fixtures in Grosse Pointe, a ritzy little suburb on the Detroit River. They kept this place way up here in the Upper Peninsula just as a summer cottage. Although to the Fultons, a “cottage” was a five-thousand-square-foot fortress of stone and glass and huge wooden beams cut from the original forest. Now that he was living up here year-round, I couldn’t imagine how much money Edwin must have spent keeping the road plowed during the winter.
Theodora Fulton was alone in the house. She seemed glad to see me after she wrestled open the huge oak front door. “You must be Mr. McKnight,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
I knew she was well into her sixties, but there was a clarity in her eyes and a surprising strength to her as she shook my hand. Although she had her hair pinned up, I could see that she had less gray hair than I did. “Please come in,” she said. “Can I offer you some coffee? I just made some.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’d love some.”
She led me into the main living room. The ceiling was a good twenty feet high, and dominated by the massive round beams that were left unfinished. The windows looked out over Lake Superior in all its glory. “Have you been to this house before?” she asked. “It’s rather charming, isn’t it?”
It was charming, all right. If I saved every penny I ever earned and did most of the work myself for about ten years, I’d have a cabin about a third as charming as this place. “I’ve been here once or twice,” I said.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll get you a cup.”
I sat down on one of the three couches. When she left, the room was silent except for the ticking of a clock and the faint sound of the wind off the lake.
“Here we are,” she said as she rejoined me. I took my cup from the tray and dropped in one sugar with the little silver tongs.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.
“Please call me Theodora,” she said. “Or Teddy. My friends all call me Teddy.”
“How about Mrs. Fulton?”
“As you wish.” She drew out a pair of glasses and put them on. I couldn’t help noticing that they looked exactly like the pair of reading glasses that Chief Maven had put on in his office. “You do cut an imposing figure, don’t you, Mr. McKnight. But you have a kind face.”
“Thank you.”
“Edwin speaks very highly of you. He tells me that you have a bullet next to your heart.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” I wondered if there was anyone left in the state of Michigan who didn’t know this by now.
“Did you know that Andrew Jackson had a bullet next to his heart for the entire time he was president?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“He was in a duel. The other man shot him in the chest, but Jackson didn’t go down. He had his one shot left, so he calmly took aim and shot the other man dead. What would you have done, Mr. McKnight?”
“You mean if I was in a duel?”
“Yes, if you were in a duel and the other man shot you first but you were still standing.”
“I guess I’d have to shoot him. I imagine I’d have a good reason to. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in a duel in the first place.”
“I suppose so,” she said. “Anyway, they were never able to take the bullet out of Jackson’s chest. He just had to live with it for the rest of his life. Apparently, it gave him a lot of trouble. Does your bullet trouble you?”
“No, not really,” I said.
“That’s good to hear.”
“Mrs. Fulton,” I said, “how can I help you?”
She looked down at her coffee. “I’m sorry. I seem to be doing my best to avoid that topic. I take it that Mr. Uttley told you of my conversation with him?”
“He didn’t go into much detail.”
She nodded. “Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, I am very concerned about my son Edwin. His father passed on many years ago, and I think that’s been very hard on him. He hasn’t had anyone to look up to. That’s why I’m so glad that you’re his friend, Mr. McKnight.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mrs. Fulton. I mean, I haven’t spent that much time with him lately.” His wife, that was a different story.
“Yes, but even so, I think you’re the best friend he has right now.”
I didn’t know what to say. Some best friend I was.
“Mr. McKnight,” she said, “I’m not naive about my son’s… problems. I know that he has a particular attraction to gambling. Why else would he live way up here all year long? At first, I thought he was just trying to get away from me. I suppose that’s a typical mother’s reaction. Or that he was tired of all the social obligations in the city. Or that he just liked roughing it up here in the woods without any servants. That sounds silly, I realize. Of course, I know it’s the Indian casinos that keep him up here. If they closed them, he’d be gone the next day. Although that reminds me of a question I wanted to ask you. If the casinos are legal up here, why was he betting with a bookmaker?”
“These casinos only have table games and slot machines. There’s no sports betting. For that, you have to deal with a bookmaker.”
“I understand now,” she said. “See, already I’m glad you came out to visit me. Edwin refuses to talk about these things with me.”
“Mr. Uttley mentioned a dream that you had…”
“Yes,” she said. “The dream. I hope you won’t find this too terribly absurd when I tell you.”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Saturday night,” she said. She looked out the window as she began to relate her dream in her slow, steady voice. “It was the night that he found that man, as it turned out, although I certainly didn’t know that at the time. In the dream, I saw blood. I saw a great deal of blood. I was absolutely terrified, because I have to tell you, I have this thing about blood. Just the sight of it, even my own blood if I prick my finger in the garden, I just can’t bear it. In the dream, there was so much of it. It seemed to be more blood than one single body could hold. I was floating over it, you know how it is in a dream. And then suddenly, I flew away from the blood and I was in a forest. I was moving down a road with trees on each side. Or rather, I was watching as something else was moving down the road. It was a car, rolling slowly down the road. It was the most vivid thing I have ever seen in a dream. That car just rolling smoothly down the road. But it was dark. The car didn’t have its lights on. It was traveling down the road with just the faintest moonlight to show the way. I tried to look into the windshield to see who was driving that car. But I couldn’t see. It was too dark. And then I realized that I had been on that road before. It was the road that leads to this house.”