“Yes.”
“They pardoned her for the crime of killing her son.”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“It’s been thirty years. She’s worked hard and made a difference during that time. She’s paid for her crime.”
“That’s big of you,” Kate said. “Talk to me about William.”
There was a brief silence. Wanda took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She sat back and looked at Kate. “He was one of the good guys,” she said, her eyes sad. “He never said he’d do something and then didn’t deliver, didn’t make promises he didn’t intend to keep. He was kind and honest and trustworthy. He wasn’t a saint, you understand. He was just a good boy who never got to be a good man.”
“Did you believe Victoria had done it?”
Wanda shook her head again. “I didn’t know her that long or that well, but from what I did see, it seemed insane to me that anyone could possibly accuse her of such a thing. But the police seemed so sure, and then the trial… When she was convicted, I thought she must have done it, after all. How could a jury find her guilty otherwise?”
“And now?”
“And now I don’t know,” Wanda said. She looked exhausted suddenly, and less beautiful. Again, Kate imagined a younger Wanda and the stir she must have created at Anchorage High School. Even Max had vivid memories of the young Wanda. What had he called her? A honey pot? “Wanda, before you met William, did-”
“That’s enough,” Victoria Bannister Muravieff said, appearing in the hallway.
Kate’s mouth dropped open, and she suffered a momentary flashback to Max’s smug expression “I might” he’d said when she asked him if he knew where Victoria was. Might, my ass, she thought to herself. “Ms. Muravieff,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Victoria came forward to take a seat next to Wanda. She took Wanda’s hand in both of her own. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Wanda said, managing a watery smile.
Victoria looked back at Kate. “Why are you here? What else can you possibly need to know?”
Kate looked at Victoria, every regal inch the matriarch of a family whose roots went deep into Alaska’s history. Truth be told, it was all that mattered to either of them. “What if I told you,” Kate said slowly, “what if I said I’m starting to think that the person who died in that house fire thirty-one years ago was the target all along?”
Victoria snorted. “Today’s big surprise. I already told you, I killed them both, or I tried to. I was broke,” she said stonily, “and I needed the money. Now I want you to leave this house, please.”
She didn’t rise to see Kate out. The last Kate saw of them was Victoria putting an arm around Wanda’s shoulders, and tears running down Wanda’s face as she let her head fall on Victoria’s shoulder.
Jim looked back at Wanda’s house as they drove away. “How the hell did she wind up there?”
“Wanda works for Judge Berlin. She would have known about the release, and made sure she was waiting when Victoria got out.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. What the hell is Victoria Bannister Muravieff doing staying in the same house with her husband’s mistress? My God, thirty years ago this was an eighteen-year-old who’d had an affair with her husband. You’d think Victoria would want to scratch Wanda’s eyes out.”
“They both loved William,” Kate said. “And they both loved Eugene. I suppose it’s natural that they would become-” She hesitated.
“Friends?” Jim said.
Kate shrugged. “At least they’ll both have someone to talk to about their lost men.”
“Sweet Jesus. I will never understand women.”
She summoned up a smile, but it was lacking its customary provocation. “You’re not supposed to.”
“Good to know.”
The gold nugget numerals on the Alaska map clock read 5:00 P.M. when they walked in the door, and Jim reached for the remote and clicked on the television. He saw Kate’s glance and said, “Sorry. It’s like a nervous twitch when I’m in Anchorage,” then made as if to turn it off again.
“Wait,” she said, staring at the screen.
Ralph Patton was shown leaving the courthouse, his arm draped protectively around a woman holding a baby, shielding them from the television cameras. He looked angry, and immensely relieved.
“-in what the judge called a tragic and inexcusable miscarriage of justice, it appears that the arresting officer did not read Mr. Patton his rights when Mr. Patton was taken into custody. Further, in an exclusive interview with this reporter, Patton’s attorney, Joseph Dial, inferred that there were other and multiple irregularities to do with Patton’s arrest, culminating in the arraigning judge’s decision this afternoon to allow Patton to go free on bail.”
A clip of Joseph Dial, talking head. “It’s hard to imagine such incompetence in this day and age,” he said into the camera. “We have one of the finest police forces in the nation, well educated, well paid, and virtually free of corruption. But because of the victim’s prominence in the community and the pressure on the Anchorage Police Department to hold someone accountable for the crime as soon as possible, there was a rush to judgment. My client is innocent, and I fully expect all charges against him to be dropped in the next twenty-four hours.”
The scene shifted back to the anchor, who offered a brief recap of Charlotte’s death, with a mention of Victoria’s release, and moved on to the next story. Jim turned off the television.
Kate stared at the blank screen and saw Max’s face as he was recounting the story of Jasper Bannister and Richie Constantine and Calvin Esterhaus: “We even had ourselves something of a case-physical evidence linking him to the scene, not a half-bad description from an eyewitness, who even picked his photo out of a book of head shots. So we let him go.”
She went to the phone and dialed.
“Erland Bannister, please,” she said when someone answered.
“Kate?” Jim said ominously.
“May I ask who is calling?”
“Kate Shugak.”
“One moment, please.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Shugak?” Jim said.
“Kate,” Erland’s voice came smoothly on the line. “How nice to hear from you.”
“Hello, Erland. I just wanted to call and thank you for the invitation to your party. I had a lovely time.”
Kate felt the exhale of breath on the back of her neck.
“Why, thank you,” Erland said, “it was my pleasure entirely.”
“In fact, I’d like to take you out to dinner as a way of showing my gratitude.”
He almost purred. “You mean we will see each other again after all? How nice. When and where?”
“Are you free this evening?”
“I’ll get free for you, Kate.”
Kate laughed, as low and as husky as she could make it. “Great. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“It’s a beautiful afternoon. Let’s try the Crow’s Nest for the view. Do you know it?”
“I’ll find it,” Kate said.
“Seven o’clock? I’ll make a reservation.”
“Perfect,” Kate said, and hung up.
“Nice outfit,” Erland said, giving her the once-over. “I thought so the other night, too.”
“It’s the only dress-up outfit I’ve got,” Kate said, smiling.
“Stick with what works,” Erland said.
“I generally do.”
The waiter appeared and Erland ordered wine. Kate let him pour her a glass, touched the rim to her lips, and smiled at him over it.
They were at the top of the Hotel Captain Cook, with a view all the way down Cook Inlet to Redoubt, and Kate thought she might be able to see the peak of Iliamna, too. Their table was set with white linen, silver, and fine china.
Kate let Erland order for both of them, sitting back in her chair, and thought that there wasn’t a whole lot of difference between a man and a bull moose in rut. The moose had a bonus, the antlers with which he could fight off pretenders to his harem, but Erland’s competence with a menu and a waiter could not be denied.