I listened as she tragically went on.
. "Why, I think he would have traded in his mother for a different one if that could have been arranged.- A tear slid down her cheek. "I know he must have gotten so bored with me."
"Too bored to accept your financial help, Mrs. Eddings?" I delicately said.
She lifted her chin. "Now I believe you're getting a bit too personal."
Yes, I am, and I regret that you have to be subjected to it. But I am a doctor, and right now, your son is my patient. It is my mission to do everything I can to determine what might have happened to him."
She took a deep, tremulous breath and fingered the top button of her jacket. I waited as she fought back tears.
"I sent him money every month. You know how inheritance taxes are, and Ted was accustomed to living beyond his means. I suppose his father and I are to blame." She could barely continue. "Life was not hard enough for my sons. I don't suppose life was very hard for me until Arthur passed on."
"What did your husband do?"
"He worked in tobacco. We met during the war when most of the world's cigarettes were made around here and you could find hardly a one, or stockings either."
Her reminiscing soothed her, and I did not interrupt.
"One night I went to a party at the Officers' Service Club at the Jefferson Hotel. Arthur was a captain in a unit of the Army called the Richmond Grays, and he could dance." She smiled. "Oh, he could dance like he breathed music and had it in his veins, and I spotted him right away.
Our eyes needed to meet but once, and then we were never without each other."
She stared off, and the fire snapped and waved as if it had something important to say.
"Of course, that was part of the problem," she went on.
Arthur and I never stopped being absorbed with each other and I think the boys sometimes felt they were in the way." She was looking directly at me now. "I didn't even ask if you'd like tea or perhaps a touch of something stronger."
"Thank you. I'm fine. Was Ted close to his brother?"
"I already gave the policeman Jeff's number. What was his name? Martino or something. I actually found him rather rude. You know, a little Goldschlager is good on a night like this."
"No, thank you."
"I discovered it through Ted," she oddly went on as tears suddenly spilled down. "He found it when he was skiing out west and brought a bottle home. It tastes like liquid fire with a little cinnamon. That's what he said when he gave it to me. He was always bringing me little things."
"Did he ever bring you champagne?"
She delicately blew her nose.
"You said he was to have visited you today," I reminded her.
"He was supposed to come for lunch," she said.
"There is a very nice bottle of champagne in his refrigerator. It has a bow tied around it, and I'm wondering if this might have been something he had intended to bring when he came by for lunch today."
"Oh my." Her voice shook. "That must have been for some other celebration he planned. I don't drink champagne. It gives me a headache."
"We're looking for his computer disks," I said. "We're looking for any notes pertaining to what he might have been recently writing. Did he ever ask you to store anything for him here?"
"Some of his athletic equipment is in the attic but it's old as Methuselah." Her voice caught and she cleared it.
"And papers from school."
"Are you aware of his having a safe deposit box, perhaps?"
"No." She shook her head.
"What about a friend he might have entrusted these things to?"
"I don't know about his friends," she said again as freezing rain clicked against glass.
"And he didn't mention any romantic interests. You're saying he had none?"
She pressed her lips tight.
"Please tell me if I am misunderstanding something."
"There was a girl he brought by some months back. I guess it was in the summer and apparently she's some sort of scientist." She paused. "Seems he was doing a story or something, they met that way. We had a bit of a disagreement over her."
"Why?"
"She was attractive and one of these academic types.
Maybe she's a professor. I can't recall but she's from overseas somewhere."
I waited, but she had nothing more to say.
"What was your disagreement?" I asked. -[knew the minute I met her that she was not of good character, and she was not permitted in my home," Mrs. Eddings replied.
"Does she live in this area?" I asked.
"One would expect so, but I wouldn't know where she is."
"But he might have still been seeing her."
"I have no idea who Ted was seeing," she said, and I believed she was lying.
"Mrs. Eddings," I said, "by all appearances, your son was not home much."
She just looked at me.
"Did he have a housekeeper? For example, someone who took care of his plants?"
"I sent my housekeeper by when needed," she said.
"Corian. Sometimes she brings him food. Ted can never bother with cooking."
"When was the last time she went by?"
"I don't know," she said, and I could tell she was getting weary of questions. "Some time before Christmas, I suspect, because she's had the flu."
"Did Corian ever mention to you what is in his house?"
"I guess you mean his guns," she said. "Just another something he started to collect a year or so back. That's all he wanted for his birthdays gift certificate for one of those gun stores around here. As if a woman would dare walk into such a place."
It was pointless to probe further, for she had the single desire for her son to be alive. Beyond that, any activity or inquiry was simply an invasion she was determined to sidestep. At close to ten, I headed home, and almost slipped twice on vacant streets where it was too dark to see. The night was bitterly cold and filled with sharp wet sounds as ice coated trees and glazed the ground.
I felt discouraged because it did not seem anyone knew Eddings beyond what he had been like on the surface or in the past. I had learned he had collected coins and butterflies and had always been charming. He was an ambitious reporter with a limited attention span, and I thought how odd it was that I should be walking through his old neighborhood in such weather to talk about this man. I wondered what he would think could I tell him, and I felt very sad.
I did not want to chat with anyone when I walked into my house, but went straight to my room. I was warming my hands with hot water and washing my face when Lucy appeared in the doorway. I knew instantly that she was in one of her moods.
"Did you get enough to eat?" I looked at her in the mirror over the sink.
"I never get enough to eat," she irritably replied.
"Someone named Danny from your Norfolk office called.
He said the answering service was contacted about our cars.
For a moment my mind went blank. Then I remembered.
"I gave the towing service the office number." I dried my face with a towel. "So I guess the answering service reached Danny at home."
"Whatever. He wants you to call." She stared at me in the mirror as if I had done something wrong.
"What is it?" I stared back.
"I've just got to get out of here."
"I'll try to get the cars here tomorrow," I said, stung.
I walked out of the bathroom, and she followed.
"I need to get back to UVA."
"Of course you do, Lucy," I said.
"You don't understand. I've got so much to do."
"I didn't realize your independent study or whatever it is had already started." I walked into the gathering room and headed for the bar.
"It doesn't matter if it's started. I've got a lot to set up. And I don't understand how you're going to get the cars
here. Maybe Marino can take me to get mine."