T is for Trespass (Kinsey Millhone 20)

“How long has your husband used a chair?”

“Eight years. We had to have the carpet taken up so he could manage from room to room.”

“I’m hoping he’s made time for me today. As long as I’m here, I can talk to him as well.”

“No, now he said it didn’t suit him. You’ll have to come back another time if you want to talk to him.” Gladys shoved aside a pile of papers. “Make a space for yourself if you care to sit.”

I perched gingerly in the clearing she’d made. I set my shoulder bag on the floor and removed my tape recorder, which I placed on the coffee table in front of me. A tower of manila envelopes tilted against my thigh, most by way of a courier service called Fleet Feat. I waited while she maneuvered herself into position and then eased into the recliner with a grunt. During that brief delay, purely in the interest of securing the avalanche of bills, I did fan out the first five or six envelopes. Two had red rims and a hoary warning that read URGENT!! FINAL NOTICE! One was for a gasoline credit card, the other from a department-store chain.

Once Gladys was settled, I tried on my visiting-nurse voice. “I’ll be recording this with your permission. Is that agreeable to you?”

“I suppose.”

After I pressed the Record button, I recited my name, her name, the date, and the case number. “Just for the record, you’re giving this information voluntarily without threats or coercion. Is that correct?”

“I said I would.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. In answering my questions, please respond only with the facts within your knowledge. I’d ask you to avoid opinions, judgments, or conclusions.”

“Well, I’ve got my opinions like everyone else.”

“I understand that, Mrs. Fredrickson, but I have to limit my report to information as accurate as you can make it. If I ask a question and you don’t know or don’t remember, just say so. Please don’t guess or speculate. Are you ready to proceed?”

“I’ve been ready since I sat down. You’re the one dragging it out. I didn’t expect all this claptrap and folderol.”

“I appreciate your patience.”

She nodded in response, but before I could formulate the first question, she launched into an account of her own. “Oh hon, I’m a wreck. No pun intended. I can’t hardly get around without my walker. I got numbness and tingling in this foot. Feels like it’s fell asleep, like I’ve been laying on it wrong…”

She went on describing the pains in her leg while I sat and took notes, doing a proper job of it. “Anything else?” I asked.

“Well, headaches, of course, and my neck’s all froze up. Look at this-I can’t hardly turn my head. That’s why I got this collar here to help give support.”

“Any other pain?”

“Honey, pain’s all I’ve got.”

“May I ask what medications you’re taking?”

“I got a pill for everything.” She reached over to the end table, where a number of prescription bottles had been assembled along with a water glass. She picked up the vials one by one, holding them out so I could write down the names. “These two are pain pills. This one’s a muscle relaxant, and this here’s for depression…”

I was scribbling away but looked up with interest. “Depression?”

“I got chronic depression. I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt so low. Dr. Goldfarb, the orthopedic specialist, he sent me to see this psychiatrist who put me on these new pills. I guess the other ones don’t do much once you’ve taken them awhile.”

I made a note of the prescription for Elavil that she’d held out for my inspection. “And what were you on before?”

“Lithium.”

“Have you had other problems since the accident?”

“Poor sleep and I can’t hardly work a lick. He said I might not ever be able to work again. Not even permanent part-time.”

“I understand you do the bookkeeping for a number of small businesses.”

“The past forty-two years. Talk about a job that gets old. I’ve about had it with that stuff.”

“You have an office in your home?”

She nodded toward the hall. “Second bedroom back there. Thing is, I can’t sit for long on account of my hip gives me fits. You oughtta seen the big old bruise I had, all up and down this side. Purple as a eggplant. I still got a patch of yellow as big as the moon. And hurt? Oh my stars. I had tape on these here ribs and then, like I said, I have this problem with my neck. Whiplash and all and a concussion of the head. I call that ‘confusion contusions,’” she said, and barked out a laugh.