Zee was so shaken that she didn’t move for a while. She didn’t walk into the office and report the incident. Instead she got into her car and drove back to Salem. When she stopped for a red light, she dialed Mattei’s number and left a message.
“I know you told me to let it go, but I just saw something that made me think that Lilly Braedon’s death really wasn’t suicide. I need to talk to you.”
22
FOUR HOURS LATER MATTEI sat across the kitchen table from Zee. She’d had a hell of a time finding a parking place and ended up leaving her car way down on Congress Street at a four-story public garage, where she still had to wait almost twenty minutes for a space.
Zee had left her two phone messages that day, the first while she was still at the house, requesting a leave of absence so that she could take care of Finch, and the second two hours later, declaring that she didn’t think Lilly’s death was a suicide.
MATTEI HADN’T BOTHERED TO CALL Zee back. Instead she had gotten into her car and driven to Salem.
“I KNOW WHAT I SAW,” Zee insisted as they sat across the table from each other.
“I’m not disputing that,” Mattei said.
“He smashed the flower basket,” Zee said. “He’s dangerous.”
“We don’t know if he’s dangerous. He certainly seems angry.”
“We know he threatened her.”
“Yes,” Mattei said.
“You didn’t believe it before,” Zee said.
“I never said I didn’t believe it. It was the Marblehead police who were skeptical. And Lilly wasn’t exactly reliable. Or cooperative, for that matter.”
“She wasn’t suicidal,” Zee said.
“She jumped off a bridge.”
“What if he drove her to it?”
“What if he did?” Mattei asked.
“Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
“Tell them what?” Mattei asked.
Zee looked frustrated.
“Let’s think it through,” Mattei said. “There’s absolutely nothing anyone can do. You can’t arrest a person for driving someone to suicide. If you could, the jails would be full of husbands, wives, relatives, and employers. Isn’t it always somebody else’s fault?”
“Even so…” Zee said.
“She was bipolar,” Mattei said.
“I’m well aware of that,” Zee said.
“Well, you know from personal experience that this is how things sometimes end.”
“You mean my mother,” Zee said.
“Yes,” Mattei said.
“My mother was BP1. And unmedicated.”
“Medication doesn’t always work. Case in point, Lilly Braedon.”
“I would have known if Lilly was suicidal,” Zee said. Before Mattei had a chance to respond, she added, “I was thirteen when my mother died. And if it happened now, with my training, I would have seen the signs.”
Mattei was silent.
“And there’s something else,” Zee said.
“What’s that?”
“You didn’t think she was suicidal either,” Zee said.
“Now you’re telling me what I thought?”
“You wouldn’t have given her to me to treat if you thought so,” Zee said. “Admit it. She was as much part of my treatment as I was of hers.”
“Interesting theory,” Mattei said.
“You knew she reminded me of my mother. You thought I could treat her and make it turn out differently. Hell, that’s what I thought.”
“As in, ‘They all lived happily ever after’?”
“As in, ‘Work out some issues.’” Zee was clearly getting agitated. Her hands were shaking. She clasped them together, trying to steady them.
“Take a breath,” Mattei said.
Zee looked frustrated. But she obeyed. She took a deep breath and held it as long as she could. Then she slowly exhaled.
“Are you okay?”
Zee nodded.
“This is all very predictable. You just lost a patient. One who was important to you. You broke off your engagement. Your father is very ill. I don’t want you to underestimate any of this,” Mattei said.
“I’m not,” Zee said. “I’m well aware of the effect all this is having on me. I just think that we should tell someone about Adam.”
“‘We’ already have.”
“Then we should tell them again.”
“Again, let’s think it through,” Mattei said, more forcefully this time. “Think of the family. Do you really want to put them through more than they’ve already suffered? Lilly was having an affair with Adam. And from what the police told us, there were other men she was involved with as well. Is this really something you want to pursue?”
Zee remained silent. Mattei was right.
“If it’s any consolation,” Mattei said, “you were right. I didn’t see it coming.”
There was a sound at the kitchen door. Someone was on the deck. Jessina let herself in with her key, then looked at them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Do you want me to come back later?”
“No, you’re fine. Jessina, this is my friend Mattei. Mattei, this is Jessina. She takes care of Finch.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mattei said, extending a hand.
“I was going to make cookies for him,” Jessina said, holding out a bag of flour she’d brought.
“Jessina is a great baker,” Zee said.
“From scratch, not a mix?” Mattei asked.
“I never use a mix,” Jessina said.
“Very impressive,” Mattei said.
ZEE AND MATTEI MOVED OUTSIDE to the deck off the kitchen. From here there was a great view of the harbor, only partially blocked by the boatyard to their left. The house straddled two streets, Turner and Hardy. It was long and narrow, with an entrance on either end.
“This is a really old house, isn’t it?” Mattei said, looking back at the twelve-over-twelve windows, the central chimney.
“Except for the deck,” Zee said. “And the widow’s walk.”
Mattei looked up. “I don’t see a widow’s walk.”
“Just the remains of one. See, up there? That flat part on top of the roof?” She pointed. “This house was purchased by a sea captain back in the late 1700s. Eventually he added the widow’s walk, then reportedly chopped it down in a fit of jealous rage.”
Mattei walked over to the historic sign posted on the side of the house: HOME OF ARLIS BROWNE, SEA CAPTAIN. “Wasn’t that the captain in your mother’s story?” Mattei asked.
“The very same.”
“Nice guy,” she said.
“Yeah, right,” Zee said.
A double-decker tour bus pulled out of the Gables’ parking lot and got itself stuck trying to make the right onto Turner Street. It backed up, then went forward, and then finally all the way back into the parking lot, where it did an exaggerated U-turn and exited the wrong way onto Derby Street, leaning precariously as it emerged, sending tourists scattering.
“There are a heck of a lot of tourists in this city,” Mattei said.
“Boston has tourists,” Zee said.
“Not dressed in witches’ hats, we don’t.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing out at the harbor. The sun was bright and playing on the water, making it look as if the light were emerging from the water itself, a million random bubbles of silver popping to the surface and then disappearing.
“What’s that over there?” Mattei pointed across the harbor.
“That’s Marblehead,” Zee said.
“Ah, the infamous Marblehead.”
Jessina brought out some lemonade and two glasses, placed them on the table without saying a word, and then turned to go back inside.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Zee said. “But thanks.”
Jessina smiled, closing the door carefully so it wouldn’t slam.
“She seems great,” Mattei said.
“She’s a treasure. Melville hired her. She was a nurse in the Dominican Republic. She’s raising a son by herself and trying to finish a nursing degree at Salem State. All that with English as a second language.”