V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)

“What about her kids? Did they approve?”

“I have no idea. We never laid eyes on them.”

“Will they be here? I didn’t see their names in the book.”

“They don’t even know she died. They’re supposedly in San Francisco, but Daddy couldn’t find a contact number for either one of them. Audrey had an address book. He saw it on more than one occasion, but he doesn’t know what she did with it.”

“She probably kept the numbers in her head.”

“I guess. Audrey claimed her daughter, Betty, worked for Merrill Lynch, but that was bullshit. Delaney lives in the city herself so she called the office and drew a complete blank. Nobody’d ever heard of her.”

“She could be married and using her husband’s last name.”

“That’s one explanation,” she said. She pulled her mouth down and ran her tongue across her upper teeth, a move that conveys disbelief, though I’m not sure why.

“What about her nieces and nephews? Wouldn’t one of them know how to contact her kids?”

“There aren’t any nieces or nephews. Daddy made that up for the obit because he thought it sounded better. She really didn’t seem to have friends or family. With the exception of that bunch of drunks they hung out with, we’re it.”

“That seems odd.”

“It is odd. I mean, if she had kids you’d think they’d have come down to visit at some point or at least called now and then.”

“You think she lied about them?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. I had the sneaking suspicion she was pulling the wool over Daddy’s eyes, acting all nicey-nice. The way she talked, she was head of a happy little family with kids who were gainfully employed. Ha!”

“Maybe she was estranged from them.”

“I guess that’s possible, though we may never know the truth.” She lowered her voice. “You heard how she died?”

“I did and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did she strike you as the type who’d take a dive off a bridge?”

“Ordinarily, no, but Daddy says she was arrested late Friday afternoon and spent half the night in jail.”

My attempt to look astonished probably fell short, but she didn’t know me well enough to catch on. I said, “Arrested? Are you serious? For what?”

“Who knows? I couldn’t get it out of him. I know he posted bail and from what he said, she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He was furious. He said it was clearly bullshit and he intended to sue for false arrest. He’s convinced her being picked up was what pushed her over the edge, literally.”

“Sounds like it,” I said.

She glanced at her watch. “I better get back. Are you staying for the service?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have a chat with William and see what he says.”

“We can talk later if you’re still around. Thanks for letting me vent.”

“No problem.”

When I returned to Meditation, a small group of people had arrived. By the look of them, these were Marvin and Audrey’s bar pals. There were six of them, two women and four guys, all roughly the same age. I’m sure the habitual drinkers at Rosie’s would have evidenced a similar air, as though bewildered to be outside and sober at that hour of the day. One of the two women was holding Marvin’s hand, tears coursing down her face. While she wept, he used his free hand to pull out a handkerchief, which he handed her. She shook her head and I saw him dash tears from his own eyes. Grief is as contagious as a yawn.

William had moved to the back of the room where he was deep in conversation with Mr. Sharonson. I caught his eye and lifted a tentative hand. He excused himself and crossed the room. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. I was just wondering about the time frame. Are you staying for the service?”

“Of course. I hope you’re not thinking of leaving. Marvin would be crushed.”

“Crushed?”

“He’s always wanted to meet Audrey’s friends and he was thrilled we were here. Well, ‘thrilled’ isn’t the word he used, but you get what I mean.”

“What about the woman he’s talking to now? Wasn’t she a friend?”

“More like a mutual acquaintance. Several of them socialized at a neighborhood bar. He’s distressed no one else has stopped by. He hoped for a respectable turnout.”

“What about his older daughter?”

“She’s flying in from San Francisco and should be here close to one.” He lowered his voice. “Has she made an appearance?”