Ruined
I sat at the kitchen table with the dictionary and a crossword puzzle from the newspaper. Charlie and Walt were making Italian delicacies. When they went to the store, Walt asked what Charlie wanted to eat. He remembered the Italian feast Walt made when we were in Montana and wanted something like that. Walt readily agreed.
The pair made meat lasagna, roasted broccoli with garlic and olive oil, fresh bread for garlic loaves, and Zuppa Toscana, which was a creamy soup with shredded Italian sausage, diced potato, and leafy greens. Charlie took to the lessons better than I expected he would. Walt went very slowly and guided him every step of the way. The first thing he said was something I’d heard him say many times before.
“Cooking is art and baking is science. With baking, you should be careful and follow the recipe. You have to be very experienced before you start to experiment. Cooking is supposed to be fun. Learn how things taste, sample seasonings, and once you start to understand, feel free to experiment. Often, there are no wrong answers.” He offered a mild correction. “Don’t go putting peanut butter on a baked potato, but don’t be afraid to try new things.”
They made the entire meal from scratch. Walt even mixed eggs and flour to make fresh lasagna noodles. The only can he opened was of whole tomatoes because he couldn’t get fresh.
Charlie was an excellent prep man. His hands were huge, but his fingers were long and nimble. He could peel and chop and knead and dice with ease. The more success he had, the more of an eager student he became. Soon, he and Walt were tasting things as the dishes came together and Walt was explaining how the flavors would combine and evolve into a greater whole.
Charlie seemed glad just to be doing something that didn’t have anything to do with Judy. He was able to lay it all aside for a while and just be a normal guy having some normal fun with his friends. I loved to hear him laugh and carry on with Walt.
I participated in the banter as much as I could even though I wasn’t an active participant in the cooking. Walt brought me regular tastes of his progress. I loved that he tried to include me even though my hands hurt too badly for me to be of any real help. He was a good man, and I was as much in love with him then as I ever had been in the past and ever would be in the future.
The telephone rang about an hour before the meal. I went to the bedroom to answer it on the extension. Detective Stone was on the line. “I’ve got the autopsy results. Cause of death was just as we figured, fancy long doctor’s word that means loss of blood. There was very little water in her lungs and no illicit substances in her system. Absolutely no sign of foul play. She was also pregnant, about six weeks.”
“Would she have known?”
Stone didn’t understand my question. “Would she have known what?”
“Would she have known she was pregnant?”
“At six weeks she should have known something. She would have missed at least one period. Being late might not be a big deal for some women, but most would know something was up by the time six weeks went by. We went through all the stuff at her hotel room. She didn’t have any medical records or anything like that. We didn’t find any letters or even a diary. It was like she didn’t have a friend in the world, not even herself.
“That aside, there’s plenty of walk-in clinics in the city and they don’t keep much in the way of records. About half the people who use them are doing it because they don’t want to leave a trail behind. She could’ve had a pregnancy test at any of them for a few dollars. They would have given her the results over the telephone, or she could have stopped back if she didn’t want to leave a number.
“If she was six weeks, that lets out your friend. You said he only knew her for a week. There was no evidence of recent intercourse, but that doesn’t mean anything. Even if she was having sex, the use of a contraceptive would have prevented any evidence from being left behind. A lot of guys pull out. That’s not a sure thing, but it works often enough. What about you? You kick anything up?”
I told Stone everything we’d done and seen in the two days. I swore I could hear him shake his head in disbelief. “Her grandparents were letting them live in a fucking garage while they had a big colonial all to themselves? I’m shocked and I thought I’d been a detective too long to be shocked.”
“Poor Charlie wanted to hurt the grandfather in the worst way.”
“I understand the impulse. I’m a hundred miles away and there’s a piece of me that wants to drive up there and pistol whip the old bastard.” He blew an airy sigh into the phone. “As much satisfaction as that would bring me, it wouldn’t change a thing. I’d just lose my job and my pension. What about you? What’s next?”
“We’re coming back to Philly maybe tomorrow or the next day to see about this Johnny Spencer kid. I’ve got a friend at the VA checking on him. I hear he was on his second tour, but I don’t know when he left or how much time he was home and if he even saw Judy while he was. All I’ve got is a name.”
“Let me know what you find. I haven’t got the form back from Agnes yet to release the body, but it just went out yesterday. I’ll reach out when we do. You’re still gonna see that she gets buried, right?”
“I’ll see to it. I’ve got a nice plot picked out here in Reading. It’s in an Episcopal churchyard under a huge oak tree. It’s even got a view.”
“Sounds nice. I hope she’ll be happy there.”
I agreed. “She deserves to be happy somewhere.”
“Funny that she didn’t leave a note, isn’t it? Most women write for pages. Why do you figure she didn’t?”
“Who the fuck would she have written to? Who was in her life to give a damn? The more I learn about this girl, the less I wonder why she killed herself and the more I wonder why she waited as long as she did. All the people who should’ve cared, either didn’t care at all or were openly hostile to her.”
He blew another sigh into my ear. “It’s a hard fucking world sometimes. Like I said, we’ll stay in touch. Good luck.”
“You, too.” I said and hung up.
I went back to the kitchen. Walt had cleared away my crossword puzzle and was setting the table. Charlie was stirring the soup and getting ready to serve the first course. He asked about the phone call.
“Do you mind if we talk about it after dinner? You two worked hard on what I expect to be a very nice meal. Let’s enjoy it and get back to the case afterward.”
He agreed and ladled the soup into bowls.
We ate. The meal was fantastic. Charlie ate with his usual enormous appetite, but he went more slowly than he normally would. When he finished, he proclaimed his appreciation for the cooking lesson.
“I never knew how much fun food could be.”
Walt agreed. “It’s one of the easiest ways to bring joy to other people. Everyone loves to eat and a good meal feeds the body and nurtures the spirit.”
“I want to learn more.”
“I’m happy to teach you. I can’t turn you into a gourmet chef in two weeks, but I can give you a foundation to build on.”
“That’d be great. Thanks!”
“Happy to do it.”
Walt poured out the fresh coffee he made and returned to the table. Charlie renewed his request for me to tell about the telephone call. I related the news from Detective Stone. Charlie was disappointed to hear there was no foul play. “She really killed herself, then.”
“It seems that she did.”
I went on with the details until I didn’t have any more to relate. Charlie’s mood soured when he found out about the pregnancy. He turned his coffee cup in its saucer and scowled at it like it had wronged him. “I guess it all makes sense now.”
I agreed that was so.
Walt asked me to explain so I did. “Her mother was a teen mother. She told Judy how her pregnancy ruined her life. Judy took that lesson into herself and believed it. When she found out that she was pregnant, she assumed her life was ruined. She had no one to turn to with her trouble, so she did what she did. It was the only way out she thought she had.”
Charlie pounded the table with his fist. He didn’t do it very hard, but the weight of his hand still made the cups rattle against the saucers. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“It wasn’t your burden to bear.”
“But I was her friend!”
“You were her temporary friend. She knew you had to leave at the end of the month, and she couldn’t expect you to take responsibility for a child that wasn’t yours. Maybe you would have tried to help, but she probably didn’t think she had a right to ask.”
A tear slid down his cheek. “She must’ve known that night at Larry and Stephan’s. That’s why she was different.”
I agreed that was likely.
“She must’ve been so lonely.”
I agreed with him again.
“She was always so careful. I didn’t think I was the only one she had fun with, but I never thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
I understood why he was upset. Judy spent all her time with him. Charlie probably thought she only had eyes for him. Her pregnancy meant she was involved with other men. It also meant she did things with them that she never did with him.
I wondered whose child it was. The name Johnny Spencer flashed in my mind like it was in lights on a theater marquee. I wished I knew when the last time was that he was home from Vietnam and if he’d seen Judy. She was in love with him, and if he was on his way back to fight a war, she probably would have gone farther with him than with anyone else.
It was the middle of January. If the child was Johnny’s and she was six weeks pregnant, that meant he’d been home for Thanksgiving. Maybe it was his child. If it was, that didn’t explain why she killed herself when she discovered the pregnancy. If the pair was in love, a child would have added an imperative that they marry. Judy would have had a husband to take care of her. He would have been an excellent provider. I never met a Marine who was anything but. Why didn’t she write him a letter and see what he said?
Maybe she had and the response came back from Vietnam through Johnny’s mother instead of direct to Judy. That would explain the letter on the toilet tank. Maybe he rejected the child or accused her of infidelity. She told Charlie that they agreed to ‘do whatever’ while they were apart. He would’ve had grounds to say the child wasn’t his. A blood test couldn’t prove it was, only that it might be.
I explained some of my thoughts. “The situation is clear enough, but we still don’t know all the circumstances. We know Judy was on her own. We know the lessons her mother drilled into her from a young age. We assume she knew she was pregnant. It isn’t obvious to me why she felt she had no options other than the one she took. Something is still missing. We need to talk to Johnny Spencer or his family. We need to know what was in the letter Judy had when she died.”
Charlie wiped his face with a napkin. “We’ve got to go back to the city for that, right?”
I checked my watch and compared it to the clock on the wall. It was almost seven. Doc promised to telephone by nine if he had anything to tell me. I deferred all decisions until then.
* * * *
The telephone rang at a quarter-to-nine. I took the call from the bedroom in case I needed to say anything that Charlie wouldn’t want to hear. Doc greeted me as enthusiastically as he could for a man who had a very long day. We chatted a little, then got down to business.
“Johnathan Spencer Jr, Marine assigned to the 22nd Infantry Battalion. He was a little over a month into his second tour when he was wounded by an explosive. It happened about a week ago; a little more by now. I don’t know the story. It could have been a landmine or a booby trap; tough to say. The result was a blast to the lower half of his body which mostly impacted his legs. The doctors did what they could in country, which amounted to amputating his left leg below the knee and patching up the rest of his injuries to get him ready to travel. The surgeons here are doing their best, but he was badly wounded. He’ll survive, but he’s got a long recovery ahead.”
“Will he walk?”
“It’ll be a while, but I think he will. It looks like they’ll be able to save his right leg. He’ll need a prosthetic to replace the bottom of the left one, but I think he’ll be alright. He’s a Marine, which means he’s a tough son-of-a-bitch. He’s also got lots of support. I met his folks today. They seem like good people. They’re staying nearby while he’s being treated. John Senior got a leave of absence from his job so he could be with his son, and Silvia, the mother, is as sweet as she could be. They’re both worried sick, but they’re keeping it together for Johnny.”
I thanked him for checking into the case for me.
“I did you one better. I told John Senior that I knew someone who was grievously wounded in another war and who went on to live a full and productive life. I offered to introduce my friend to Johnny. John and Silvia were thrilled at the idea. They’ll welcome you as soon as you’re back in town.”
I grinned at the phone and wished there was a way for me to clap Doc on the back from long-distance. “You’re a genius, you know that? When can I see him?”
“It’ll be a couple days at least. He had a procedure today and he’ll need at least a day to recover before he’s ready to talk to anyone.”
“How’s the day after tomorrow?”
“That should be alright. I’ll check to see how he’s doing tomorrow afternoon and let you know one way or the other. Should I phone you in Reading or at home?”
I made a snap decision to stay in Reading another day and return to Philly the following. “Telephone here tomorrow. We’ll come to the city the following morning.”
“Sounds fine. I hope to see you when you’re back.”
“Same here! Thanks again!”
We said our goodbyes and hung up.
I brought the news to the living room. Charlie was happy that we’d made contact, but disappointed that he wouldn’t get to meet Johnny. I made a suggestion. “You’re the right age to join the service. I’ll bring you along and tell Johnny you wanted to meet a real Marine to see if you would fit in with them.”
He liked the idea. “Thanks, Law! What will we do tomorrow?”
“We should make arrangements for Judy. We’ll go to the funeral home and pick out a casket. We’ll visit the church office and reserve the plot. We’ll also talk to the priest and see if he’ll say a mass. I need your help with those things. Matt McGill said he’d make sure Agnes signs the form to release Judy’s body. We’ll have to claim it and make arrangements to have it shipped up here from the city. If we move fast, we can have the funeral before you leave.”
He got up to poke at the fire. “I’ll stay another week if I have to, if you’ll have me, that is. I don’t want to go home until she’s buried.”
Walt offered his support. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
He put the poker back. “Thanks, Walt; and you too, Law. This is the second time you’ve done something for me that I could never have done on my own. If not for you, my dad might still think I burned down the old Krengel place. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’m happy to help, my friend.” I tried to wring my hands together, but they hurt so I stopped and let them rest. “It’s good for me because I’ve been worried about…a lot of things. It’s been hard since my hands got so bad. Working with you reminded me that I’m not a useless old man even if I feel that way sometimes.”
Walt added his thoughts. “I haven’t been able to help much, but I enjoy spending time with you and doing what I can to help Law. I’ve also got a budding chef to train!”
Charlie smiled bashfully. “It’s been great to get to know you guys. I was worried when dad said you were coming to stay with us back home. I didn’t know what to expect. I never thought two people like you could fit in on the farm.”
“People like us?” Walt asked.
Charlie lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug like he didn’t know how to explain. I understood what he meant. “He was worried we’d be a pair of old queens with falsetto voices and theatrical gestures.”
Charlie tried to say I was wrong, then he blushed and shrugged again. “That’s kinda what I expected.”
“There are queer men like that and there’s nothing wrong with them. It’s just not who we are. I’m surprised because you’re fine with Stephan, and he’s a little like that.”
“He is, but he’s Larry’s husband, so it’s different. Plus, I came to see him, he didn’t come to the farm to see us.”
Walt didn’t see the difference. Charlie explained. “I never met any gay men before you and Law. I didn’t know what they were like. You and Law taught me that you’re just people.” He grinned at a memory that he shared. “Law also warned me about Steph. He’s so over the top! The first time we met, he hugged me and kissed me right on the lips! I thought it was super weird, but as soon as I got to know him a little, I realized it’s just who he is. Besides, Larry loves him, and that’s good enough for me.”
Charlie was honest with us, so I decided to be honest with him. “Walt and me were worried when we came to see you at the farm. We were concerned that we wouldn’t fit in, or that you and the other young people would be awkward around us, or think we were ‘super weird,’ to use your term. We also worried we wouldn’t have anything to do.
“None of our worries came true. You and your family welcomed us and made us feel right at home. Your mother opened her kitchen to Walt and you and Mitch worked with me to figure out the arson. You and your family opened your hearts for us, and we couldn’t appreciate it more.”
Walt agreed. “We even talked about moving to Montana. We decided not to when your mother told us about the winters.”
I laughed. “There were other reasons, but eight feet of snow in one year was enough to keep me away!”
Charlie chuckled. “The winters are hard, but the other seasons are nice. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.”
“Not even after seeing the bright lights of Philly?”
“The city can be fun, but I could never live in one. It’s…it’s too much. Everywhere I look, stuff’s happening. I don’t know how you deal with it. Even here where you say it’s quiet and slow, it still feels like a lot. There’s so many people.”
“We come from different worlds. It’s nice that we can visit, but I doubt either of us would want to swap.”
Charlie nodded. “Larry did it, but I guess he had to.”
“He did. It would’ve been very difficult for him to find love in Montana. He can be who he is here. That’s the nice thing about busy places; there’s so many people, no one gives a damn how you live your life.”
“I’m glad he found Stephan and he’s doing so well. Thanks for pushing me to come out here to get to know him. Thanks again for everything.”
“You’re welcome, Charlie.”
He poked at the fire again and went back to his book. I got back to my crossword, and Walt turned the pages of a cookbook that had once belonged to his father. He hadn’t used a cookbook in decades, but he was picking out dishes for him and Charlie to work on together. The fire crackled comfortably. It was a very nice evening.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
