Bennett returns thirty minutes later. He enters the car and sits next to Posner. Two uniforms sit in front and one starts the engine and pulls out of the parking area as other vehicles still enter. He sees Posner watch the flow of traffic.
“They’ll be at it for quite a while yet.”
Posner feels insane, yet despite Sara’s death he senses a burden lifting.
Bennett leans back, pulls a small notebook from his jacket pocket and scratches something in the book with a fat ballpoint pen that was clipped to the edge. He finishes and notices Posner’s gaze as he returns the book to his jacket. He holds up the fat stubby ballpoint.
“I get them at the place where I have my stuff dry-cleaned. First pen I ever had that has a clip wide enough to fit around the notepad and not get lost. Isn’t that something?”
Posner smiles at the folksy way Bennett has let him enter his personal life. He doesn’t ask if Bennett has a family, yet assumes he must. Posner then becomes aware that he’s smiling. He leans back into the seat and sleeps, but there are no dreams.
He wakes to the muted sound of Bennett on his cell phone. Bennett looks at him and snaps the phone shut with one hand. Posner looks out the window and sees they are nearly in East Hampton. He couldn’t have dozed for long. His right arm rests just beneath the window, the hospital plastic identification tag still around his wrist. He reads his name and date of birth on the narrow plastic strip. There is also an unknown doctor’s name. He remembers nothing of his hospital admittance. He wishes he could forget that day on the Jitney just as easily, yet knows he never will.
“Feel better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Good then. Let me fill you in on what’s happened. First, the body is that of Heidi Kashani. We won’t have official confirmation till the County ME’s office runs fingerprint and dental checks, but certain things in the field gave us good prelim results, like the pink-and-white dress. There was also the ID in her bag that was buried with her.”
Posner listens, but says nothing at first. All he can think of is sliding the straw bag across her body and into the plastic. And then out again to get the cell phone. And how lucky he was to have worn gloves and not leave prints. He shivers at the memory, and then speaks to quiet the images.
“What happened back there?”
“You did hear shots, two of them in fact. One of the troopers tripped over a log and discharged his weapon by accident into the ground. Another was so trigger-happy that the first round spooked him into doing the same thing. Lucky both shells hit nothing but dirt.”
“So no one was hurt?”
“Not exactly. The woman you probably saw is Heidi’s sister from Europe. She got scared by the gunshots, tripped over something and took a bad fall.”
“I saw her falling forward.”
“Well, she seems okay except for a probable broken bone in her foot, but nothing more than that beyond some facial scratches from the underbrush.”
“No one ever said she had a sister.”
“She looks a lot like Heidi. It was going to be a surprise, but things got out of hand before we could drop the bombshell on you and Stern.”
“On me?”
“It was a long shot, but you were one of the early suspects. Sorry.”
Posner exhales slowly before he looks straight up and into Bennett’s eyes.
“I think I understand. What happened to him? To Stern?”
He almost spits the name out.
“Our troopers were surrounding him. He was standing near the grave site holding a shovel as a weapon.”
“I saw that from the car.”
“When the gunshots went off and Brigid fell, he dropped the shovel and went to her. Must have thought she’d been hit. Damnedest thing I ever saw. A day before he kidnaps her and does God knows what else, and then he drops his only weapon and runs out to help her. We took him in without a struggle. All he cared about was whether she was all right.”
“What about the gun? The one he took from my house.”
“Funny guy, the doctor. He disarmed himself long before they got to the woods. It was under the back of the passenger seat in her Audi all the time he was out there with only a shovel, or a spade, if you want to be technical.”
Posner starts to speak, his mouth half open, and then stops. Some remote part of his conscience wants him to say that he could see Stern never intended to kill Sara. That it was all an accident. That Stern was holding the needle and was running out when he tripped on the stairs and fell into her. And that everything that happened to both Heidi and Sara was somehow all his fault. But he says nothing. It’s easier to blame Stern for everything. Nothing he could say will bring Sara back.
“Want to say something?”
When Posner doesn’t answer, Bennett arches an eyebrow, looks away, and shakes his head. He also says nothing and tilts his head toward the window to stare at the passing village landscape and avoid further eye contact.
Posner takes in all of this. Bennett is probably thinking what a poor bastard I am. And that neither I nor Stern deserved any of this, but that’s the way things sometimes work out.
He watches the light dim as evening crawls in. Another five minutes till they get to headquarters. Another five minutes till he’ll need to face Bennett and the others and the whole process again. This time with the County people. After that it’ll all be over and back to the hospital. He shuts his eyes. He no longer needs the rest, but he’d rather not speak.
CHAPTER 30
Wisdom notes the time in his appointment book and circles it. The call came from the Austrian Consulate in Manhattan. They’ll be picking Brigid Kashani up the following day and taking her to JFK for an early evening flight to Geneva. Will he have time to see her on her way to the airport? At about two in the afternoon? She would like to say goodbye and thank him in person. Their language is all very formal and he feels his positive reply was equally proper.
As the time approaches to see Brigid, he can’t avoid having his thoughts drawn back to the case. It isn’t hard. Only ten days have gone by since the events at the Montauk Overlook. Dr. Henry Stern is undergoing psychiatric evaluation at Stony Brook Hospital Medical Center. He will likely be there for some time. The county attorney suggests that Stern will face a bevy of charges ranging from unlawful entry, auto theft, assault, battery, sexual abuse, and kidnapping relating to Brigid, and either manslaughter or murder two with regard to Sara Posner. They are still collecting evidence regarding his involvement in the death of Heidi Kashani, but murder charges are also likely in that case. Amos Posner’s observation of him at the burial site is compelling evidence together with Stern’s lack of alibi on the day she disappeared. And Stern’s countercharges against Posner sound no more than the incoherent ramblings of a cornered unstable man.
Amos Posner has been cleared of any involvement in Heidi’s death. It was never an issue. Wisdom spoke to Posner on the phone the previous day. While still distraught, he seems to be regaining some sense of emotional control. He projects guilt about the loss of his wife that initially puzzles Wisdom, until he realizes he knows nothing of their relationship and its hidden crevices. Posner did seem genuinely pleased when Wisdom tells him that both he and Bennett will be at the forthcoming funeral service, which can now occur with the release of his wife’s body.
Posner says he plans on selling the house as soon as possible and will, at some future date, be moving to northern California, as he and his wife had planned. Tomorrow he plans to come back to Amagansett from the city, where he’s been living, to go through his personal items. It is not a task Wisdom envies. Posner babbles on randomly for several minutes, but Wisdom lets him speak without interruption. At one point, Posner breaks into what Wisdom would only later describe as an ironic laugh, when he says he has heard from his lawyer that the Justice Department is dropping all of its inquiries into some past activities. Referring to his lawyer’s call, Posner keeps repeating the phrase, “This means I’m innocent,” over and over. Wisdom later thinks Posner might have referred to more than his federal issues, but he will never be sure. In retrospect Posner almost reminds him of one of those tragic figures in literature he studied in college. The poor son of a bitch inadvertently created his own mess by the simple act of speaking to a woman on a public bus. Unbelievable!