“I don’t see where this is going,” said Bristow sharply.
“My mother got a phone call the night she disappeared. I was there. I remember she looked upset, agitated. Then she got dressed and went out somewhere. Could the call have come from your husband? Would he have called my mom if he were in distress? If he needed to talk?”
“Particularly if he were contemplating suicide,” added Knox.
“And if he did, don’t you think it likely that my mother would have gone over there to talk to him?”
When Puller had mentioned the phone call, Bristow’s face had paled and she had put her teacup down because her hand had started to tremble.
Knox said, “What is it?”
Bristow put a hand to her mouth and tears emerged at the corners of her eyes.
“Mrs. Bristow, please, tell us,” implored Puller.
She composed herself. “Earl called me that night.”
“You?”
She nodded, wiping at her eyes. “He was distressed. He sounded drunk. He…” Her voice trailed away and she fell silent.
“Did he ask you to come over?” said Puller.
She looked at him and nodded.
“And what happened?” asked Knox.
“Nothing. Because I didn’t go over. I went out with some friends instead.”
She let out a gush of air and leaned forward, put her forehead on the table, and started to sob.
Knox and Puller just stared at her. Finally, Knox put a supportive hand on the woman’s shoulder and said, “It’s okay, Mrs. Bristow. You had no way of knowing.”
The sobs racked the woman for another minute before she sat up, grabbed a napkin from the holder in the center of the table, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.
She sat back, let out a long breath, and said, “Well, I might as well get it all out.” She blew her nose again and wadded the napkin in her hand.
“I told Earl that I wasn’t coming over and…” She stopped and looked at Puller.
“And what?” asked Puller.
“And that he should call Jackie.”
“Why my mother?”
“Because he was infatuated with her. Besotted, head over heels in love, that’s why. It was a bitchy thing to do, I know, but I was just fed up.”
Puller sat back looking surprised.
Knox glanced nervously at him and said to Bristow, “Was that the problem in your marriage? Is that why you separated?”
Bristow nodded. “That along with the fact that Earl drank too much.”
Puller said, “Are you saying they were having an affair?”
Bristow shook her head. “Earl clearly wanted to. He would have married Jackie if he could have.”
Puller exclaimed, “She was already married. To his commanding officer! And my father.”
Bristow looked at him from under hooded, reddened eyes. “Do you think someone in love gives a damn about that?”
“And my mother?”
“Your mother had no interest in anything like that. She was a devout Catholic. When I told you earlier that she floated above the rest of us, I meant that in a divinely spiritual way.”
“You seemed to know a lot about Mrs. Puller,” said Knox. “More than you would get simply from conversation with her.”
“When it was clear my husband was in love with her I did some research. I don’t know why. I just did. I wanted to hate her, I guess. Find some flaw to make myself feel better. But when I realized that Jackie had no interest in breaking her marriage vows I actually became closer to her. She knew what was going on. She knew how Earl felt. And she gently but firmly made it very clear to him that it was never going to happen.”
“So when you declined to go over there that night, you told him to call her?”
“Yes. And if she got a call that night I’m sure it was from Earl. But I had no idea she had gotten a call that night, so I never thought that Earl had contacted her.”
“She didn’t go right away. She made us dinner, my brother and me, so I doubt he told her he was thinking of killing himself. She would have called the police immediately.”
“Do you remember what time the call was?”
“Around six, I think.”
“Then it was after he called me.” She glanced at Puller. “Why did you think about this connection?”
“The date of your husband’s suicide. Your knowledge about my mother. And I remembered that before she left the house that night she picked up a photo off her dresser. In that photo were my parents, and you and your husband.”
Bristow sighed and closed her eyes.
“So my mother goes to meet him,” said Puller. “She disappears. And later he commits suicide?”
Bristow’s eyes popped open. She seemed to sense where he was going. “Do you…are you alleging that Earl murdered your mother? He loved her.”
“And love can turn to hate when it’s rebuffed,” said Puller grimly. “As an Army investigator I’ve seen that happen more times than I can count.”
“Omigod!” Bristow said. “But what would he have done with…?”
“With her body? I don’t know. Did he call you again that night?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you go to see him?” asked Knox.
“Because I had nothing to say to him. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. So I just told him to talk to the woman he really loved, which wasn’t me!”
“Did my father know about all this?”
Bristow looked at him contemptuously. “Do you think if he did know he would have let things stand like that? Your father would have come over and kicked the shit out of Earl. And Earl knew it. He feared your father, like most of the junior officers.”
“But those officers didn’t have the hots for my mom,” retorted Puller. “And if he couldn’t control himself, and he couldn’t have my mom, then maybe he decided no one else could either,” said Puller.
“I can’t believe that Earl would have harmed her.”
“And I can’t take the chance that he didn’t without thoroughly checking it out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean getting a search warrant for your former house.”
“You can’t think that-”
“I’m a criminal investigator. What you think and what I know people are capable of are light-years apart.”
58
PULLER HAD CALLED his CO, Don White, explained the situation, and White had gotten a search warrant. It was fairly easy because the house the Bristows had lived in back then was now vacant.
A team of agents had come in and spent all day tearing the place apart. Cadaver-sniffing dogs had been brought in to go over the house and grounds.
It had taken time, and money.
And the result was zip.
Puller had seen the resentment in the CID agents who performed this work. They were overworked as it was without this time-waster. That’s what he read in their looks.
Puller had been so sure, but the dogs would have found something if there had been anything.
He leaned against his new rental, surveying the property, while Knox stood beside him.
“Well, it was worth a shot,” she said.
“We may be the only ones who think that. And now we’re back to square one,” he replied.
“We need more information,” said Knox.
“The thing is, if Earl Bristow wasn’t involved in my mother’s disappearance, who was?”
“You don’t think the wife was, do you? Maybe she was feeding us a bunch of bull. Maybe she wanted to get back with her husband and was jealous of your mother.”
“I checked. She had an alibi for the time in question. And people I talked to seemed unanimous in their recollection that Lucy Bristow wanted the divorce.”
“So maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Puller glanced up and down the street they were on. “Shit,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Come with me.”
He started walking and Knox fell in beside him. “Where are we going?”
“If my mom came to visit Bristow that night she would have come this way. It’s really the only way to come from our house.”