How bad is the memory thing? He swallowed as he said it: he didnt need bad news, not about Elle.
Again she smiled weakly: Just a couple hours of amnesianothing unusual. Ive taken a few tests: theres no impairment. Permanent impairment.
All right, he said. All right.
The girl…
The girl would live. She smelled vanilla when a nurse wiped her arm with an alcohol swab; smelled fried eggs in a glass of apple juice, celery in oatmeal. When asked to read aloud from a chart, shed read quite wellexcept that shed read some words backward, pronouncing them correctly in their backward form.
She could recover, Elle said. I feel so bad that she was running after me…
Nothing you could do, Lucas said.
Does anybody have any idea who mightve done it? A shadow of fear in her eyes, something hed never seen before.
He shook his head. Not yet.
They talked for ten minutes before Elles eyelids grew heavy; Lucas kissed her on the cheek, with much approval from the squad of nuns who perched like blackbirds on their row of red leatherette chairs. Before he left the hospital, he talked to her doctor for a minute, picked up a pack of X rays and some preoperative photos at the radiology department.
THE HENNEPIN COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINERS OFFICE was just down the street from police headquarters, connected by what the cops half seriously referred to as the secret tunnel. Lucas dumped his car in one of the cop slots on the street and then took the tunnel to the MEs office. He showed the photos and films to one of the forensic pathologists.
Probably right-handed, and probably not too tall, the ME said, sucking on an illegal Winston. The blows all hit on the side and back of her head, rather than coming down on top. But if it were a man, swinging flat, like a baseball bat, he wouldve knocked her head off. This looks morelike somebody coming down, but from a relatively low swinging position.
Possibly a woman?
The ME pushed his lips out and blew a capital O. Could be. Whoever it was, wasnt all that strong. Jumping somebody from behind, with a cluba strong guy would have killed her, hitting her like that.
Huh.
LUCAS HAD SEEN HELEN BELL AT THE ARRAIGNMENT of her sister, and had been struck by how little they resembled each other, in the sense of a total package, for two women who looked so much alike. Audrey at thirty-eight was a beetle, hunched, fussy, dressed all in earth colors, her movements small and nervous. Bell at thirty-four was not exactly a butterfly, but seemed even in the restrictive circumstances of a legal hearing to be much more outgoing, much more like a woman in her thirties. Her hair was touched with color, she wore a bit of makeup, and at the arraignment, shed worn a pretty red silk scarf with a conservative blue business suit; and she smiled.
Helen Bell lived in a small white house with green shutters, backed onto an alley, a shaky-looking garage standing behind the house. Lucas left his car in the street and walked up the narrow seventy-year-old sidewalk to the front door and knocked. Bell was there in a minute, smiling nervously when she opened her door and said, Chief Davenport? Come in.
The living room had a just vacuumed look, and magazines, mostly about homemaking, were stacked carefully on a coffee table. Coffee? she asked. Its only microwave instant.
Yes, that'd be nice. The voice again: this was the tipster, all right. Lucas mentally kicked himself: hed known that Audrey McDonald had a sister.
Decaf or regular? She was bustling around, making sure he was comfortable; he felt as though he were on a first date.
Whatever you have… Regular is fine. She went to get it, and he looked around the small living room, checked a shelf of paperbacks: self-help, mostly. How to succeed in business. Where do you work? he called.
He heard the door slam on the microwave: Fisher Specialties down in Bloomington. You knowtruck accessories. Im in charge of the orders department. She came out of the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee. Sit on the couchIll take the easy chair.
Any children?
A daughter. Connie. She should be home from school any minute.
I wanted to talk to you about some background involving the death of Dan Kresge and then later, of Wilson McDonald…
Are they going to drop the charges against Audrey?
I dont know, I dont work in that area, Lucas said. Mrs. Bell… did you write to us about your brother-inlaw? Call me on the phone?
She looked too surprised by the question; she wasnt surprised, but she acted as though she were, her eyebrows going up, her head cocking to one side. Why…
I can get phone records, if I want to, Lucas said. And theres nothing at all illegal about what you did. You were simply recommending an investigation.
She took a sip of coffee, then ran the index finger of her free hand around the rim of the cup. After a second, she said, Yes, that was me. Youd already figured it out, I guess. But it couldnt be from the phoneI called from Rainbow.
Rainbow was a supermarket. Lucas shook his head: Its just your voice. You sound a little, I dont know Canadian.
Aboot, she said.
He nodded. The first time I talked to your sister, I thought she was the one who called. So: How long ago did you decide Wilson McDonald was killing people?
I… thought thered been a lot of deaths, to get him where hed gotten. But it was only when Mr. Kresge was shot that I was really sure. You know that Mr. Kresge was going to merge the bank…
Yes.
And Wilsons job was gone. I mean, gone. Then Mr. Kresge gets killed, and Wilsons job was saved. And maybe hes even in line for Mr. Kresges job. That was too much. Thered been too many of these things.
How long had he been beating your sister?
He beat her up before they got married, Helen said. She told me that later.
Then whyd she marry him?
Because she loved him, Bell said simply. She still loves him.
Thats a very odd relationship.
A kind of codependency, Bell said. You know… Never mind.
No. Say it.
My father, before he died, used to beat up my mother. And Audrey. And he wouldve started on me, if Id been old enough. And somehow, I think that did something to Audreys brainshe thinks womendeserveto get beaten. I mean, shed never say that, but way deep down, I think she mightfeelit. I used to plead with her to leave the man.
Where do you come from? You and Audrey? He knew, but if he could get her rolling, anything might come out.
Oxford. Its up in the Red River Valley, she said. The closest big town is Grand Forks.
Sugar beets?
No, we never really farmed. We lived just outside Oxfordwe could walk to schooland my dad was a mail carrier. Both of my grandfathers were farmers, though. Dad grew up on a farm, and so did Mom, but he just wasnt interested.
Your folks still live up there?
No, they both died. My father died when I was little, when I was ten, that was… twenty-four years ago, now. Just about this time of year. Mom died four years later. In the spring. After Mom died, I went to live with my aunt Judy in Lakeville and Audrey went to college. She went to St. Annes.
I know… Listen, I assume that you didnt talk to us directly because you didnt want to offend your sister. Or alienate her. Is that right?
Bell nodded. You know, she kept talking about how she loved him and what a great provider he was, but I really thought he was an animal and that sooner or later, hed kill her. Hewasa killer. You said on the phone that the Kresge thing wasnt finished yet, but you know, it really is. Wilson killed him. Maybe I should have come forward earlier, but… I wasnt sure. And he was my sisters husband.
The good provider.
Easy to laugh off if youre a police officer, down here in Minneapolis, Bell said. But if you were poor in Oxford, Minnesota, and we pretty much were, then good provider isnt something you laugh at.
Lucas glanced around: Are you married? Or…
Divorced, she said. Four years now. She shook her head at the unstated question. Larry never laid a hand on me. We just found out that we werent very much interested in each other. We were dating when I got pregnant, and we got married because we were supposed to.