“Greer’s – Gina’s – father was a teamster, right?”
“Who told you that? He drove a bread truck for H and S.” But Greer had claimed to be the daughter of a teamster when she first inquired about a job with the production. The girl had been scheming from jump. “They were always full of themselves, the Sadowskis, living west of the boulevard, over toward Linthicum.”
Baltimore was full of such arbitrary geographic distinctions. East or west of the boulevard, above or below the avenue, north or south of the water tower.
“How did they get back together, then?”
“Well, Miss Hoity-Toity had gone out to Hollywood, but her father got sick. Emphysema. And her mother said she had to come home, help her through, because she had to take a second job to pay for everything, and her old man couldn’t be left alone. JJ saw Greer at the Checkers on Belle Grove and it started all over again. He was crazy for her.”
She paused, as if regretting her choice of words. “I mean to say, he loved her no matter what she did. She could feed him a shit sandwich, and he would ask for a chaser of piss. He thought the sun and the moon rose in her. He proposed, she said yes. Then she got her promotion and had less and less time for him. I could see the writing on the wall, even if JJ couldn’t.”
Mrs. Meyerhoff had put out a package of Hydrox cookies with the grape soda, and Tess had to concentrate fiercely not to wolf down the entire package. Hydrox had disappeared from the snack food chain at least a decade ago, but such items often lived on in the tiny groceries and delis of Baltimore. Those corner stores were like archaeological treasure troves of discontinued food items. Every now and then, she unearthed a dusty bottle of Wink from deep in the cooler of such places, and it felt as thrilling as if she had found evidence of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
“You said she was cheating on him.”
Mrs. Meyerhoff examined the backs of her hands. They were sinewy, with knobby, ringless fingers. Had it hurt, watching her beloved youngest son purchase a ring for someone else, while her own hands went bare?
“I didn’t have stone-cold proof,” she admitted. “But I kept telling JJ, add it up. There was a man who called their apartment at all hours, demanding to talk to Greer.”
“Did he hang up when JJ answered?”
“No, but he wouldn’t give his name. Sometimes Greer took the calls, sometimes she didn’t, and she would say to him, ‘Don’t call me here.’ She started working longer and longer hours.”
“I think the long hours were legitimate,” Tess said. “The one thing that everyone agrees on is that she was truly a hard worker.”
“What I think,” Mrs. Meyerhoff said, sliding a Pall Mall out of its maroon pack, “is that she had set her cap for that boss of hers.”
“Flip? He’s married. Happily, I hear.” And seemingly oblivious to Greer, but it didn’t seem polite to mention that. Tess didn’t want to tell a grieving mother that the woman who had been such a prize to her son was nothing but a factotum to her boss.
“Yes, but that girl had patience to burn. I’ll give her that. When Greer wanted something, she found a way to get it.”
“Greer told people at work that she broke up with JJ. Her mother said it was the other way around, and you say it was all because he thought she was cheating. What happened?”
“I don’t really know. We can’t know now, can we? A few weeks ago, they had a fight. You know how it goes – she was late, he complained that he had waited for her for over an hour, and next thing you know, he’s saying, Well, if you feel that way, maybe you don’t want to marry me, and she says, Okay I won’t. He didn’t think it was permanent. I guess that’s why he went to see her that night. She wasn’t taking his calls, she had changed the locks at their apartment. It was like – how do I put this? It was like she tricked him into breaking up with her, just so she could keep the ring. She was a greedy girl.”
Tess sipped her grape soda, ate another Hydrox. Mindful of the fact that Mrs. Meyerhoff had a short fuse, she searched carefully for the right words. “All these things – the breakup, Greer’s refusal to speak to him, the disagreement over the ring – they tend to support the police’s version of events. He went to see her, maybe with the best intentions of the world, but she angered him, and well…”
Mrs. Meyerhoff nodded. “I know. And then he gets out of his car when the police pull him over, doesn’t stop when they yell at him – I know what it looks like. But what if the reason he was crazy is that he had just heard Greer was dead? I know the police thought I was lying, but he really did go off fishing. It’s what he did when he felt bad. He woke me up that night, asking me to call in sick for him the next morning, and he headed out. I saw him, Miss Monaghan. He didn’t have no blood on his clothes or hands, and he didn’t leave no bloody clothes behind. He was upset – she had told him there was no way she would get back with him and she wouldn’t give the ring back either, because the breakup had been his idea, even if she agreed to it. He drove west, spent a couple of days in the woods, sorting out his thoughts, then headed home. He might not have done it.”
Her tone was that of a woman trying to persuade herself. Four sons, and this was the fate of the “good” one, the one who had tended to her in his father’s absence. Tess was beginning to understand why Mrs. Meyerhoff had crashed the funeral service. One mother had lost a daughter, and it was a tragedy. Mrs. Meyerhoff had lost a son, but that was supposed to be justice. And maybe it was, but didn’t that make it only harder to grieve? Tess could see how Mrs. Meyerhoff had become fixated on the ring, for which she was stuck with the payments. The ring was the closest thing she had to a legitimate grievance.
“Look, if you really want to pursue the thing about the ring – I think you might have some standing. You might not get it back, but if Greer’s mother insists on keeping it, there may be some way to make her take over the payments. I have a lawyer friend who owes me a favor. He’d do it pro bono.” It felt good, volunteering the services of her aunt’s husband, who had never been shy about volunteering her for things.
“It’s all mute,” Mrs. Meyerhoff said, and Tess needed a second to catch the Bawlmer malaprop. In some ways, the phrase was more elegant than the one Mrs. Meyerhoff actually wanted. All the parties to the dispute had been silenced. “There ain’t no ring. It wasn’t on Greer’s body when they found her. Police say JJ took it. If that’s so, where is it?”
“He would have thrown it away,” Tess said. “He couldn’t hold on to it, much less try to return it or hock it. The ring would have been key to convicting him. And the murder weapon is missing, too, so that’s consistent.”
“Yeah,” Mrs. Meyerhoff said, sighing and exhaling at the same time. “It all fits. And if it were one of my other boys, I’d say, ‘I knew this day was coming.’ Do you think my temper is something they inherited? Were my boys doomed to be the way they are because of how I am?”
It was a big question, far too large to be answered in a kitchen on Delaware Avenue, over grape soda and Hydrox. Perhaps too large to be answered anywhere, under any circumstances.
Leaving Mrs. Meyerhoff ’s house, Tess decided to call Tull.
“Have you closed Greer’s murder officially yet?”
“No,” he said. “We have to be careful on these things, not rush, even when the outcome seems likely.”
“So when will JJ Meyerhoff ’s things be released? Will his mother get his truck? How does that work?” She wasn’t sure if killers got to keep their property, or if their possessions passed to the state.
“Eventually.”