"Mr. Cary? I'm Deputy Chief Glitsky. I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes of your time?"
"Of course," he said with a weary resignation. Then added, "Sorry," for no apparent reason. He reached over, flicked a switch, and suddenly there was light in the living room and over the porch. "Come on in."
Glitsky stepped over into the house, followed Cary a few steps over to a couch, where they sat. The dog was a light brown, medium-sized mutt with a lot of Lab in him, and he gave Glitsky's legs the once-over. "If you're not okay with dogs, Ranger can go."
"Dogs are fine." Glitsky gave him a little scratch behind his ears. Satisfied after a second or two, Ranger went over next to Cary and sat against the couch. His master began to pet him absently. Glitsky suddenly became aware of the smell of pizza just as Cary said, "We were having some dinner, but I wasn't hungry anyway. Do you need to see the kids, too? They're back in the kitchen."
"Maybe after a while. We'll see." Glitsky cleared his throat. "First, I wanted to say how sorry I am about your loss. You have my deepest sympathy."
Cary managed to nod.
"Secondly, I know that we, the police, haven't made much progress yet, but I wanted to assure you that we have no intention of letting up on the investigation. He is out there and we still have every hope of finding him."
"You're assuming it was a man, then?"
"No. I didn't mean to give that impression. Is there some reason you think it might have been a woman?"
Cary lifted his head and shook it. "No. I was just reacting to what you said. I have no idea in the world who it could have been." He sighed, scratched at Ranger's head. "I'm so tired of saying that, but it's true. You had to know Elizabeth. She had no enemies. Really. I mean, nobody's perfect, but she was a cheerful, sweet…" He stopped, blinked a couple of times, finally completed the thought: "A cheerful, sweet woman."
"We keep hearing that from all reports, sir. And Inspector Belou tells me that the two of you were getting along as well. No conflicts." He didn't phrase it as a question.
Cary shrugged, then sighed. There wasn't a trace of defensiveness about him. "We were a team," he said. "That's how we always talked about one another. I don't know what else I can say. We may have had an argument in the past year or so, but if we did, I don't even remember what it was about. We were a team," he repeated. "We just lived a normal life."
Glitsky's original conception of this interview had been that he would start out slow and gradually grill the husband hard on his movements on the night of the murder, and maybe find a hole in the story he'd given to Inspectors Belou and Russell. But now, in the small room, seeing the man in such obvious, all-inclusive pain, he found himself unable to get warm to the idea that Cary was a killer. "I know the inspectors have gone over this with you, sir, but in the past few days, I wonder if something else might have occurred to you- some disagreement your wife might have had with, I don't know, a neighbor, one of your relatives, somebody from your children's school. Maybe even something from a long time ago that you didn't remember in the first days of shock and grief? That you originally didn't see as having any possible connection."
Cary looked down at his dog, stopped petting him and sat back on the couch. He took off his glasses, rubbed them on his pants leg, put them back on. "No," he said, and shook his head.
"What?"
"Nothing, I'm sure." But he went on. "This really isn't possible, I don't think, but Elizabeth does have… I mean she did… I mean he's still alive."
"Who's that?"
"One of her brothers. She's got three of them, but one of them, Ted, is crazy. He lives down south at Lake Elsinore. He didn't make the funeral."
"And he's, what? Institutionalized?"
"No. He's not clinically crazy, I don't think. Just not completely right, you know what I mean?"
"Why don't you tell me." Glitsky had a small notepad out. "Ted. Last name?"
"Reed. R-E-E-D."
"Okay. And how is he crazy?"
"I shouldn't say crazy. That's just how we always refer to him. He was born premature and always had lots of learning problems. His IQ's probably about eighty-five. He's sad more than anything, really. I haven't seen him in, I don't know, five years or more. But Elizabeth tried to stay in touch on his birthday and Christmas, like that. That's the way she was, she wasn't going to abandon her brother." He sighed. "Anyway, I know she talked to him at Christmas because she made the kids say hi to their Uncle Ted."
"He yelled at us, too."
Glitsky looked up in surprise. Ranger ran over to the tall, gangly boy of about fourteen, hands in his pockets, who had appeared in the hallway. Cary stood up. "Scott…" He turned. "Inspector, this is my oldest, Scott. He's sorry that he was eavesdropping. Scott, Inspector… I'm sorry."
"Glitsky." On his feet, shaking the boy's hand.
A good solid grip. The boy even made eye contact. "Nice to meet you, sir."
Cary raised his voice. "You other kids back there, too?"
In a second, the two younger sisters were in the room. Both of them had been crying. Cary introduced them, too, Patricia and Carlene, then apologized to Glitsky again.
He waved it off and looked at the son. "So you were saying, Scott, that your Uncle Ted yelled at you on this phone call?"
"Yes, sir. I finally had to hang up on him."
"What was he yelling about?"
Scott glanced at his father, got a nod and went ahead. "All the presents I got."
"What about them?"
"Well, he asked what I'd got for Christmas and I started to tell him and go down the list, like, you know, and suddenly he's all 'Your mother's got that kind of money?' Really yelling at me. Like if Mom's got all that money, she could send some to him instead of spoiling us…" He turned to his father. "You think it might have been him, Dad?"
"No, I don't know. I can't imagine…" Cary to Glitsky now: "That's just the way he is. He thinks because we have a little money, we… He just doesn't understand. But he's really harmless, I think. Just a little crazy."
"He's a jerk," the son said. "A total jerk."
Cary's face relaxed into something like a smile for the first time. "I can't really argue with that. Even Elizabeth thought he was a pain in the ass. And she liked everybody."
"And he didn't come to the funeral?" Glitsky asked.
"Thank God," Scott said.
"No," Cary answered. "Nobody could reach him."
"So he might not have been down at Lake Elsinore?"
"I don't know. I don't know if the other brothers have reached him yet."
"I bet he did it, the son of a bitch."
"Scott! That's enough. All right." The rebuke's tone wasn't harsh, but it was firm, and effective. The boy still fumed, but in silence. Cary turned to Glitsky. "I've got an address and a phone number down there I can give you, but I'd be very surprised."
Glitsky shrugged. "You never know. It's worth following up."
"I'll go get it."
As Cary went out to the hallway, Glitsky faced the children. "Do any of you guys have any ideas of who might have wanted to hurt your mother?"
The two young girls started crying again, quietly. Ranger started whimpering around them and Scott, repeating over again that he bet it was Uncle Ted, went over to join in the comforting. Glitsky's own emotions began to roil, and incredibly moved, he had to look away for a moment.