On the other hand, we wanted to be expected, if not downright anticipated, at the Mansion.
We left instructions with Dispatch that we would give them a “ten-twenty-one” over the radio, at which point they would telephone the Mansion. We told them exactly what to say when they called to tell the group we were coming.
“Just handle it all as code sixty-one traffic,” I said. “Everything to an absolute minimum.”
About thirty minutes later, we'd driven all the way up the Mansion lane, until we could just see the door of the house over the crest of the hill. We stopped. It placed us about a hundred yards out, with just the edge of the car roof and about two thirds of the windshield visible to anyone looking our way from the house.
I picked up the mike. “Comm, Three… ”
“Three?”
“Ten-twenty-one.” She knew what I meant.
“Ten-four. Stand by One… ”
A few moments later, after having informed whoever answered that Hester and I would be there in a while to bring them up to date on the situation with Toby, she came back on the radio.
“Three, ten-sixty-nine, they said 'Fine.' ” A ten-sixty-nine is the code for message received.
“Ten-four.”
It was that simple. Then we waited; to see if anybody did anything unusual, like try to leave. Although we weren't able to see the rear of the house, the relative lack of success of people leaving via the back door should have been having some effect. Well, with the mere mortals, anyway.
We waited two minutes, by the dash clock. Nothing.
“They're still pretty confident, aren't they?” Hester shifted in her seat.
“They sure seem to be.”
“Well, let's go see what we can do about that.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Tuesday, October 10, 2000
15:17
We drove ahead, and as we got out of the car, Kevin came to the door. Excellent.
“What do you want?”
Direct, and to the point. I was encouraged.
“We want to tell you about Toby, where he is, and what's happening with him.”
“Can't he just call us himself?”
“Not just yet,” I said. By that time Hester and I had ascended the steps, and we were standing just outside the front door. “May we come in?”
He hesitated. Even better. Then, “Sure. Why not.” He stepped back, and held the door for us.
We were met by Huck, who was just coming down the stairs.
“Hello, again,” she said.
I could see Melissa in the kitchen, with her back to us, doing something at the counter. She turned as she heard us in the parlor, wiped her hands on a towel, and moved to join us. She didn't look particularly happy to see us.
“Can we get you some coffee, or anything?” asked Huck.
“Sure.” I almost never refuse.
Melissa and Huck passed each other.
“Hi, Melissa. How's it going today?”
She regarded me with the sort of look you'd expect a girl to give her parents, when she knew she'd pissed them off, and was going to be defensive about it.
“Fine.”
We were all still standing. Permitted in the house, but not welcomed. We get that a lot, and it's pretty understandable. It's also pretty uncomfortable.
“Mind if we sit down?” With the offer of coffee, it was reasonable.
“Go ahead,” she said.
There was a woman singing, obviously a recording, coming from the music room. It sounded kind of old, and not in English. Vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it.
“Is that French she's singing?” Just killing time until Huck got back with the coffee.
Melissa rolled her eyes. “It's Edith Piaf.”
“Oh, sure.” I remembered. “Boy, I haven't heard her for a really long time.”
Silence.
“Iowa City, in the dorm. About '64 or so.” I smiled. “Long time.”
Huck returned with the coffee, in time to hear most of the conversation. She gave me a pretty genuine, if weak, smile. “Black for both of you, right?” From last night.
“Yep.”
“So, you're here to tell us all about Toby?” Kevin asked, sarcastic as ever.
“Well, as much as we can,” said Hester.
I began, “You all know we arrested Toby this morning.”
Silence, interrupted by footsteps on the main stair. Hanna came around the corner. “Oh!”
Melissa explained why we were there. Hanna stood in the doorway.
“Do you know why he was arrested?” I asked.
“You said it was trespassing,” said Melissa. “That's about all we know, except that you pointed guns at him, and scared him nearly to death. That really wasn't necessary.”
“Well,” I said, “Toby broke into the funeral home last night, and drove a stake through Edie's chest.”
That hit most of them pretty hard. It was meant to.
Hanna said something along the lines of “Oh my God, what did he do that for,” and promptly sat on a small bench just inside the door. Huck just looked stunned, Melissa sat abruptly on the couch, saying to Huck that that explained the closed coffin at the funeral.
Kevin, on the other hand, didn't have any visible reaction at all.
“Why are you accusing Toby of that?” asked Melissa. “He couldn't any more do such a thing.”
I held up my hand. “We have witnesses. He was seen. He had cuts on his fingers from the broken glass. The soles of his shoes matched the footprints outside the broken window. And,” I finished up, “he told us so. Without prompting.”
“I just can't believe it,” Melissa said, with the tone of someone who simply didn't want to. “That's so, so, gross. Disgusting.”
“Why can't they leave her in peace?” asked Hanna, much more to the point.
“Did you know this last night?” asked Huck.
“When we talked?”
I shook my head, and Hester said, “It hadn't happened yet.”
“Anyway,” I said, “we'd like to talk to each of you for a few minutes at a time, if that's all right.”
“About what?” asked Kevin.
“The case in general,” I said.
Kevin said, calmly, “I think I'll just leave, now, if nobody minds.”
“You might want to stay,” I said. “We've got some interesting stuff.”
“Really?” He said it with that same cynical tone he always seemed to use, but he stayed. The hook was being scrutinized by our fish.
“Yep. I think so. Like I just said, we busted Toby, and now you all know what for. When we got him, he was also very wired,” I said, “and as a direct consequence, he's en route to the Mental Health Institute at Independence, for detox.”
I swear every one of them winced.
“I feel for him,” said Huck. “Believe me, it doesn't get easier as you get older.”
Melissa and Hanna both nodded. Kevin just stood there, being as much of a nonparticipant as he could.
“Not for detox for me,” Hanna said. “I went in for being 'rebellious' and 'uncontrollable.' Well, according to my parents.”
“We were there at the same time,” explained Melissa. “Up on four. Where the crazy kids go.”
Four was the floor where those who needed close attention were kept. It was interesting to find they were bound by another common experience.
Melissa spoke in a soothing voice. “Take your Thorazine, dear, like a good girl, and mommy will like you better.”
“But, I've found happiness in depression.” That came from Hanna, doing a passable little girl impression, and both Huck and Melissa nodded.
Huck chuckled. “But Doctor, if I'm manic-depressive, how come I'm never manic anymore?”
“Well, at least in detox,” said Melissa, “he'll be back here in three days. Seventy-two and out, the detox shuffle.”
An intergroup conversation was starting, off subject, and I thought Melissa was deliberately orchestrating it.
“I hate to interrupt,” I said, “but could we get back on track?”
“If you can show us the track to get on,” said Melissa, “sure.”