For a moment I was sure she’d slam the door in my face again, but she didn’t. Instead she turned away from the door and walked back into the house on unsteady legs. She left the door standing open, though, and Joe and I followed her inside.
Stepping over the threshold and into the house was like walking into a museum, a place designed to freeze the past and preserve memories. I remembered every turn and doorway and room so well I could have navigated the house blindfolded, though I hadn’t been inside in fifteen years.
Joe and I sat on a dirty couch with our backs to the street while Alberta took an armchair across from us. She shuffled with a pack of cigarettes and an empty glass on the coffee table for a bit but didn’t do anything with either.
“It’s been a long time since I was in this house,” I said. I’d been obnoxious and commanding out on the steps, trying to get in the door, but I didn’t really want this conversation to be contentious. If I could somehow convince Alberta Gradduk to talk with me as the old family friend I still felt I was, it would be a much better scenario. “Ed had clearly been doing some work on the place.”
“How’s what we did in our home any business of yours?” Alberta snapped.
“You like being back in the house, then?” I said, ignoring her comment.
She rolled an unlit cigarette between her fingers. “I hate this house.”
“You didn’t want Ed to buy it?”
“Ed didn’t care what I thought of that.” She looked up at me and glared. “Why are you bothering me with all this? You think asking questions about this stupid old house is going to help anything? They’re burying my son in three days, you know. Burying him.” She rolled her eyes over to Joe. “What are you staring at?”
He smiled the smile of a patient priest in a confessional, passing no judgment. “Just listening, ma’am.”
“This is my partner,” I said. “His name’s Joe Pritchard. He was a police detective for a long time. I thought he could help us here.”
She looked at Joe contemptuously. “I hate the police, mister. Every one of you.”
He looked at me as if to say nice icebreaker, but didn’t speak.
“Ed got set up,” I said, leaning forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. “I’m sure of that, Mrs. Gradduk. I want to prove it to everyone else, though.”
“Like anybody cares.” She waved her bony hands at me in disgust. She was in the same dress she’d been wearing when I’d come to the house two days earlier.
“We don’t want to bother you, ma’am,” Joe said. “We’re really just hoping to help. Could you tell us what happened when the police came to arrest your son?”
She set the cigarette back on the table and scowled at it. “Marched in here like he owned the place, that’s what he did. Didn’t knock, just opened the door and walked right in.”
I raised my eyebrows. “The cop didn’t knock? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure, I was sitting right in this room. I had the paper out, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what I was reading in it. I heard him come up on the steps and I put the paper down, thinking I’d have to go to the door when he knocked. But before I could even get out of my chair, he was inside.”
“What did he say?” Joe asked.
“Not a damn thing at first. Just looked at me all surprised, like he hadn’t imagined finding me in my own house. I asked just what the hell he thought he was doing. He asked what I was doing here. What I was doing here, like I didn’t belong and he did. That’s when Ed came in.”
“Where had Ed been till then?” I asked. I could remember sitting on the floor in this room with Ed, watching television. When we were in third grade, he’d had a model train that ran around the floor, and we used to run the track under the couch and pin its skirt up so the trains could go through our makeshift tunnel. Beside me was the door that led out to the front porch, where we used to sit in the evenings and listen to Norm Gradduk’s stories, watch him play solitaire and drink Stroh’s beer.
“I don’t know, I didn’t follow him from room to room,” Alberta said, her voice high and whiny, like a child’s.
“So what happened when Ed saw the police officer?” Joe said.
“When Ed came in, he pointed the gun at him and told him to get his hands in the air.”
Joe and I exchanged a glance. “Ed had a gun?” Joe asked.
Alberta was disgusted. “No.”
“But you said he pointed a gun . . .”
“That’s right. Pointed it at Ed.”
“The cop had a gun out?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
“He had a gun out when he came into the house?” Joe said.
“That’s right.”
We looked at one another again. An unannounced entrance, with gun drawn. This was certainly not the situation that had been presented in Jack Padgett’s incident report.
“What happened then?” Joe said.
“He told me to go upstairs and leave them alone. He said he needed to be alone with Ed. I yelled at him and told him to leave. He told me to go upstairs, but Ed told me to stay where I was. They kept shouting, and then Ed hit him in the face. Hit him hard. He hit him and I yelled and then Ed opened the door and ran.”
“Did it seem like Ed knew the cop?” I said.
Her eyelids went up slowly, as if it took a concentrated effort.
“You know,” Alberta Gradduk said, “you’re just like your father.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just like him,” she said, and I could tell that it was no compliment.
“What does my father have to do with this?”
She stared at me unpleasantly. “People have their own problems. They should be allowed to deal with them privately. I never liked meddlers.”
“I’m not meddling, Mrs. Gradduk; I’m trying to clear your son’s name. I’d like to think you’d support that attempt.”
“I want you to leave.”
“You haven’t answered all my questions yet.”
“And I’m not going to!” She shouted this time, her eyes wide and angry, a spray of spit following her words. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to come back. Just go away and leave us alone. We’ll be fine without you and your judgment.”
I started to open my mouth to tell her I wasn’t judging anyone, but then I saw it was going to be wasted effort, and I shook my head and stood up. Joe followed suit.
“That’s right, get out,” Alberta Gradduk said, her voice back to its natural state, that weak, raspy whisper.
“We’re going,” I said, pulling open the front door. “You have a good day, Mrs. Gradduk. I’m sorry about Ed.”
We were back at the car when I turned to Joe.
“He came in without knocking or identifying himself, gun drawn,” I said. “Seemed surprised and bothered to find the mother there. Once Ed showed up, Padgett told Alberta to leave them alone in the room. Ed told her not to.”
Joe was silent.
“They came to kill him,” I said. “Padgett didn’t expect Ed’s mother to be there. She threw him. Her presence saved his life, at least right then. Ed saw the situation for what it was, and he ran.”
Joe’s face was empty, his eyes hard. I knew I had him now, though. Joe came from a family of cops, and he’d devoted most of his life to being the best cop in the city. If there was one thing he could not stomach, it was the idea of a corrupt police officer.
“You ready to ride with me yet?” I said.
His smile was cold as he held up his car keys. “Hell,” he said. “I’m driving.”
CHAPTER 12
Our timing was bad. If we’d been five minutes later getting back to the office, we would have missed Cal Richards. Instead, we pulled into the parking lot just as he was climbing into his car, ready to leave. When he saw us, he got back out and leaned against the trunk of the unmarked Taurus, a smile on his face.