After two uniformed officers took Minka off to jail, Inspector Lee asked me to follow her back to police headquarters for a little talk. And when I say she “asked” me to follow her, I was fairly certain she meant I could follow her to headquarters on my own or I could take a ride in the back of a squad car.
Minka’s assault must’ve slapped some sense into me because I was more than willing to tell the truth about being at Enrico’s. Lying about it had just gotten my face bashed in.
My cell phone rang and I grabbed it, hoping it was either Derek or Ian. I’d left more than a few voice mail messages for each of them.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Mom.”
“I’m planning a barbecue next Saturday because Austin’s bringing Robin home for dinner. Isn’t that sweet? Savannah will be in town, too, and I left a message for Ian. I understand there’s a nice English fellow you’ve been seeing. You can bring him if you’d like.”
That nice English fellow who was ignoring my calls? Not a chance. And who had told my mother about him?
“I’m not sure Derek can make it, Mom,” I said.
“We’ll be barbecuing filets,” she said to tempt me further.
“Savannah’s eating a steak? I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
My youngest sister was a fruitarian. I didn’t even bother trying to understand what that meant. The girl insisted she got all the protein she needed from coconut milk and raw nuts. If you asked me, she’d consumed one too many nuts.
“Oh, she’ll eat a mango or something,” Mom muttered; then she perked up again. “Dad has a new cabernet he wants you to try. You know he trusts your taste buds more than anyone’s.”
It was blatant flattery but it worked. “I’ll be there, Mom. But I’ll have to let you know about Derek.”
“Super dandy,” Mom said. “So, what are you up to, sweetie? How are your chakras?”
I turned right on Fillmore and waited for a break in traffic in order to make the left turn onto Oak. “Well, if you must know, my chakras and I are on our way to police headquarters.”
“What?” she cried in alarm. “Sweetie, that’s not funny.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m just going down to answer some questions.”
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m okay. Well, I think so, anyway. But see, first Abraham was murdered and now they’ve discovered Enrico Baldacchio’s body. So they want to talk to people.” I jammed my brakes at Geary as the light turned red. The action jarred my tender jaw and I groaned aloud.
Mom groaned, too. “Oh God, they’re arresting you.”
“Mom, no.”
“Oh God,” she said again. “I knew this would happen.”
“What do you mean?”
She moaned, then abruptly began to chant. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo-”
“Mom, stop. They won’t arrest me. I didn’t do anything. They don’t have any evidence.”
“Not yet,” she cried, and chanted even louder. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo.”
“Mom, they just want to talk to me because I knew both men.”
She was chanting so loudly now, I didn’t think she heard me. “Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo.”
For a Unitarian, the woman sure could belt out a Buddhist chant.
Dad had always talked about the time he and his buddy Norman ran out of money. Since they were hungry, they decided to chant for food. Twenty minutes later, Mom showed up with two bags of groceries. She believed in the power of the chant.
“Nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho renge kyo nam myoho-”
“I’ll call you when I get home, Mom,” I shouted, unsure whether she could hear me anymore. “Please don’t worry.”
I disconnected the call, but I was pretty sure Mom would keep chanting until either world peace was declared or I broke out of jail.
I sat on a folding chair in a small interrogation room in the police homicide division, located inside the Hall of Justice Building. Inspectors Lee and Jaglow had started the interview but had been called away, leaving me alone for the last hour and forty minutes. I knew they were trying to unnerve me by making me wait, and it was working. I was ready to confess all my sins. Fortunately, murder was not one of them. So far. I was hedging my bets where Minka was concerned.
I tapped my fingers on the table and stared at the strangely attractive taupe walls for the three hundredth time. As usual when I had time on my hands, my brain circled around Abraham’s murder. But instead of the usual visions of dead bodies, blood and books circling my brain, I kept going back to my last meeting with Abraham the night he died. He’d been so warm and jovial, so positively reflective, so excited for the future.