Send the money. Keep the notebook.
An expensive notebook that got shoved under the pillow when the little sister appeared unexpectedly in the room. The more Holly thinks about it, the more she thinks there might be something there.
She restarts the movie but can’t follow its well-worn and well-loved path with this notebook stuff rolling around in her head, so Holly does something almost unheard of, at least before bedtime: she turns her computer off. Then she resumes pacing, hands locked together at the small of her back.
Send the money. Keep the notebook.
‘And the lag!’ she exclaims to the empty room. ‘Don’t forget that!’
Yes. The seven months of quiet time between when the money ran out and when the Saubers boy started to get his underpants all in a twist. Because it took him seven months to think up a way to get more money? Holly thinks yes. Holly thinks he got an idea, but it wasn’t a good idea. It was an idea that got him in trouble.
‘What gets people in trouble when it’s about money?’ Holly asks the empty room, pacing faster than ever. ‘Stealing does. So does blackmail.’
Was that it? Did Pete Saubers try to blackmail somebody about something in the Moleskine notebook? Something about the stolen money, maybe? Only how could Pete blackmail someone about that money when he must have stolen it himself?
Holly goes to the telephone, reaches for it, then pulls her hand back. For almost a minute she just stands there, gnawing her lips. She’s not used to taking the initiative in things. Maybe she should call Bill first, and ask him if it’s okay?
‘Bill doesn’t think the notebook’s important, though,’ she tells her living room. ‘I think different. And I can think different if I want to.’
She snatches her cell from the coffee table and calls Tina Saubers before she can lose her nerve.
‘Hello?’ Tina asks cautiously. Almost whispering. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Holly Gibney. You didn’t see my number come up because it’s unlisted. I’m very careful about my number, although I’ll be happy to give it to you, if you want. We can talk anytime, because we’re friends and that’s what friends do. Is your brother back home from his weekend?’
‘Yes. He came in around six, while we were finishing up dinner. Mom said there was still plenty of pot roast and potatoes, she’d heat them up if he wanted, but he said they stopped at Denny’s on the way back. Then he went up to his room. He didn’t even want any strawberry shortcake, and he loves that. I’m really worried about him, Ms Holly.’
‘You can just call me Holly, Tina.’ She hates Ms, thinks it sounds like a mosquito buzzing around your head.
‘Okay.’
‘Did he say anything to you?’
‘Just hi,’ Tina says in a small voice.
‘And you didn’t tell him about coming to the office with Barbara on Friday?’
‘God, no!’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Still in his room. Listening to the Black Keys. I hate the Black Keys.’
‘Yes, me too.’ Holly has no idea who the Black Keys are, although she could name the entire cast of Fargo. (Best line in that one, delivered by Steve Buscemi: ‘Smoke a fuckin peace pipe.’)
‘Tina, does Pete have a special friend he might have talked to about what’s bothering him?’
Tina thinks it over. Holly takes the opportunity to snatch a Nicorette from the open pack beside her computer and pop it into her mouth.
‘I don’t think so,’ Tina says at last. ‘I guess he has friends at school, he’s pretty popular, but his only close friend was Bob Pearson, from down the block? And they moved to Denver last year.’
‘What about a girlfriend?’
‘He used to spend a lot of time with Gloria Moore, but they broke up after Christmas. Pete said she didn’t like to read, and he could never get tight with a girl who didn’t like books.’ Wistfully, Tina adds: ‘I liked Gloria. She showed me how to do my eyes.’
‘Girls don’t need eye makeup until they’re in their thirties,’ Holly says authoritatively, although she has never actually worn any herself. Her mother says only sluts wear eye makeup.
‘Really?’ Tina sounds astonished.
‘What about teachers? Did he have a favorite teacher he might have talked to?’ Holly doubts if an older brother would have talked to his kid sister about favorite teachers, or if the kid sister would have paid any attention even if he did. She asks because it’s the only other thing she can think of.
But Holly doesn’t even hesitate. ‘Ricky the Hippie,’ she says, and giggles.
Holly stops in mid-pace. ‘Who?’
‘Mr Ricker, that’s his real name. Pete said some of the kids call him Ricky the Hippie because he wears these old-time flower-power shirts and ties. Pete had him when he was a freshman. Or maybe a sophomore. I can’t remember. He said Mr Ricker knew what good books were all about. Ms … I mean Holly, is Mr Hodges still going to talk to Pete tomorrow?’