"What about Pete Jerzyck?"
"Do you know Pete?"
Well... "Norris stopped. Thought about Pete. Thought about Wilma. Thought about the two of them together. Slowly nodded his head. "He was afraid Wilma would chew him up one side and down the other if he tried playing referee... so he stood aside.
Is that it?"
"Sort of. He actually may have headed things off, at least for awhile. Clut says Pete told the CID guys that Wilma wanted to go over to Nettle's as soon as she got a look at her sheets. She was ready to rock and roll. She apparently called Nettle on the phone and told her she was going to rip off her head and shit down her neck."
Norris nodded. Between the autopsy on Wilma and the autopsy on Nettle, he had called dispatch in Castle Rock and asked for a list of complaints involving each of the two women. Nettle's list was short-one item. She had snapped and killed her husband. End of story.
No flare-ups before and none since, including the last few years she'd spent back in town. Wilma was a different kettle of tripe entirely.
She had never killed anyone, but the list of complaintsthose made by her and those made about her-was a long one, and went back to what had then been Castle Rock junior High, where she had punched a substitute teacher in the eye for giving her detention. On two occasions, worried women who'd had the ill luck or judgment to get into Wilma's bad books had requested police protection. Wilma had also been the subject of three assault complaints over the years. Ultimately all charges had been dropped, but it didn't take much study to figure out that no one in his or her right mind would have chosen Wilma jerzyck to f**k with.
"They were bad medicine for each other," Norris murmured.
"The worst."
"Her husband talked Wilma out of going over there the first time she wanted to go?"
"He knew better than to even try. He told Clut he dropped two Xanax into a cup of tea and that lowered her thermostat. In fact, jerzyck says he thought it was all over."
"Do you believe him, Alan?"
"Yeah-as much as I can believe anyone without actually talking to them face-to-face, that is."
"What's the stuff he dropped into her tea? Dope?"
"A tranquilizer. jerzyck told CID he'd used it a couple of times before when she got hot, and it cooled her out pretty well. He said he thought it did this time, too."
"But it didn't."
"I think it did at first. Wilma didn't just go over and start chewing Nettle's ass, at least. But I'm pretty sure she went on harassing Nettle; it's the pattern she established when it was just the dog they were fighting over. Making phone-calls. Doing drive-bys.
That sort of thing. Nettle's skin was pretty thin. Stuff like that would have really gotten to her. John LaPointe and the CID team I stuck him with went to see Polly around seven o'clock. Polly said she was pretty sure that Nettle was worried about something. She was over to see Polly this morning, and let something slip then. Polly didn't understand it at the time." Alan sighed. "I guess now she wishes she'd listened a little more closely."
"How's Polly taking it, Alan?"
"Pretty well, I think." He had spoken to her twice, once from a house near the crime scene, and a second time from here at K.V.H just after he and Norris had arrived. On both occasions her voice had been calm and controlled, but he had sensed the tears and confusion just under the carefully maintained surface. He wasn't entirely surprised during the first call to find she already knew most of what had happened; news, particularly bad news, travels fast in small towns.
"What set off the big bang?"
Alan looked at Norris, surprised, and then realized he didn't know yet. Alan had gotten a more or less complete report from John LaPointe between the autopsies, while Norris had been on another phone, talking to Sheila Brigham and compiling lists of complaints involving the two women.
"One of them decided to escalate," he said. "My guess is Wilma, but the details of the picture are still hazy. Apparently Wilma went over to Nettle's while Nettle was visiting Polly this morning. Nettle must have left without locking her door, or even latching it securely, and the wind blew it open-you know how windy it was today."
"Yeah."