Q: You're sure about that. A: (Silence) Q: Miss Weed?
A: Yes. I'm sure I never saw them. Q: Then your fingerprints couldn't possibly be on them, isn't
that so?
A: They couldn't. Q: What if they are! What if we find fingerprints on the letters
and they match yours? How would you explain that, Miss
Weed? A: (Silence) Q: Miss Weed? A: (Silence)
Q: Miss Weed? Would you please answer my question? A: (Silence) Q: Lieutenant, I'd like this prisoner's fingerprints taken,
please. A: (from Mr Kahn) Hey now, wait just a minute. There's
nothing in Miranda that says you can . . . Q: Can someone please get him a copy of the guidelines?
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A: (from Mr Kahn) Now wait just a minute!
A: (from Lt Byrnes) Somebody go down to the desk, see if there's a copy of the Miranda book behind it. Miss, you want to come along now? Steve, take her prints for me, will you?
A: (from Mr Carella) Let's go, Miss.
Q: (from Ms Brand) Miss Weed?
A: (Silence)
Q: Miss Weed?
A: I loved him so much.
I didn't know he'd found someone else. I thought he'd just lost interest. That happens, you know. People fall out of love. And I was willing to accept that. If a person doesn't love you anymore, then he just doesn't. It had been a year - well a little less than a year, actually. He came into the shop that first time on the twenty-third, that was our anniversary, the twenty-third of January. So we'd had a good run. Nowadays, a year is a long time, believe me. I have girlfriends, if a man stays with them for six months they consider themselves lucky. This was almost a year. The day he told me he wanted to end it was the fifteenth of January. I'm good on dates. That was almost a year. So ...
You know.
I ...
I said okay.
I mean, what can you do? If a man doesn't love you anymore, you just have to let him go, don't you?
I kept remembering the things we did together.
The letters were fun, but that only lasted a little while, it was a hot summer.
Every now and then I'd get this other girl for him. Well, for us. I used to go to college with her. Marian. A blonde, like me . . . well, he liked blondes. But that was when I was still sure of him. I mean, it was the three of us, sure, but it was still really just the two of us, do you know what I mean? It was him and me calling the tune. Marian was just there to please us.
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We had good times together.
But when something's over, it's over, am I right? I mean, I'm not a child, I know when to call it a day. And even though I was lonely . . .
I was very lonely.
I loved him so much.
Still I ... I figured I could live with it. I had the shop, I love animals, you know. I kept myself busy. And I guess I would have been able to manage if I hadn't . . .
It was one of those things where I thought I was looking at myself in a mirror, a younger version of myself, walking up the street toward me, hanging on Arthur's arm, head thrown back in a laugh, long blonde hair and blue eyes, it was me and Arthur all over again. Only it wasn't me. It was another woman, a girl really, she couldn't have been older than twenty, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek, I turned away before he could see me. Turned my back. Started to cross the street against traffic. Horns blowing, it was terrible. When I turned back again, they were gone. Lost in the crowd. Lost.
I thought Well well.
I thought The son of a bitch already has somebody new.
It's only a month . . .
This was February the twelfth, I'm very good on dates . . .
It was only a month and already he had himself a new woman, a new girl, really, she looked so young. And then I wondered if ...
I mean, was it possible he could have found someone else so fast? I mean, only a month after we'd said goodbye? Wasn't that awfully fast? And then it occurred to me that he'd maybe had her all along, maybe he'd had her before he called it quits with me. And that bothered me. It really did. I guess I should have said the hell with it, but it really bothered me. You know how some things can just eat at you? Well, that's what this did to me. It just ate at my insides.
I mean, all the things we did together.
Jesus.
So I ...
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I guess I began following him. Because I wanted to find out how long this had been going on, you see. I mean, had he been making a fool of me all along? Did he have this girl on the side while I was writing all those letters to him, and getting other women for him . . . well, just Marian, but we did it a lot with her, we must have done it a dozen times with her at least. Had he been making a goddamn fool of me all along?
She lived in this fancy apartment building on Silvermine Oval. . . well, you know where she lived. He would go to see her maybe two, three times a week. I followed him up there. One day I asked one of the doormen, not the Saudi, whatever he is, the little one who can't speak English, this was another doorman. I told him I was sure I knew the girl who'd just gone in, a girl named Helen King, I was sure I used to work with her, and he said no, that wasn't her name, and I said I'm sure that was her, can you tell me her name, please, and he gave me that look doormen always give you, as if you're going to go in and kill somebody in their precious fucking building, and he said, No, I can't give out names, so you see it wasn't so easy getting her name.
I began following her around, too. Not just when he was with her, Arthur, but when she was alone. Trying to find out her name, you know. It's not easy to find out somebody's name in this city, everybody's so suspicious. I finally got it at the supermarket. From following her around I knew she got all her groceries from the Food Emporium up on The Stem, filled out this little slip to have the stuff delivered. So I just made sure I got in line at the checkout behind her, and I watched while she wrote down her name and the address on the order pad, Susan Brauer, 301 Silvermine Oval, PH, bingo.
Not that I was planning to do anything.
I just wanted to know about her.
Because it kept eating at me that maybe he'd been seeing her at the same time he was telling me how much he loved me.
And then one day, I saw the other man.
Saw her and this other man together.
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This was right after Easter, the eighteenth of April, it was raining. It was the daytime. Raining hard. They came out of the building together, he'd obviously been up there with her. He had white hair, I thought he was an old man at first. I couldn't understand what she saw in him. After Arthur? This skinny little bullfighter?
They went to lunch together in an Italian restaurant on Culver. Then they went back to the apartment. They were up there all afternoon. Arthur went there later that night. She was seeing both of them, I couldn't believe it! Mott, his name was. Thomas Mott. I followed him to an antiques shop he owns on Drittel. I went in the shop one day, just to see him up close. He was younger than I'd thought, in his fifties, I guessed. Dark brown eyes in a very pale face. I told him I was interested in a Tiffany lamp. He seemed pleasant.
But you see, she'd made her one big mistake.
This was how I could get Arthur back. By telling him she was cheating on him. I mean, in all the time I knew Arthur -it was almost a year, don't forget - I never once cheated on him. Never. But here was someone he'd known since . . . well, I really didn't know how long because it could have been going on forever, for all I knew . . . but it had to have been since January at least, and here it was only April, and she was already cheating on him. So I thought I'd go talk to her. Tell her I was going to blow the whistle unless she quit seeing Arthur. Reason with her. She had one man, why did she need two? Talk to her. Reason with her. The day I went there . . .
The weather on Tuesday, the seventeenth of July, is swel-teringly hot, the three horsemen of haze, heat, and humidity riding roughshod over a city already trampled into submission. She is going there only to talk to her. She has called first to say she is holding some lingerie here for delivery, would it be all right if one of the girls stopped by with it later this afternoon? He had to have gifted her with sexy lingerie in the past, no? The whole garter-belt-and-panties routine? The bra with the cutout nipple holes? Oh sure.