The Girl Is Murder (20 page)

“Soon, I guess. Like I told you before, I got in trouble for the Harlem trip last night. I don’t think he’d be too happy to know I had a friend over on top of it.” She showed no sign of leaving. What was I going to have to do? Throw her purse out the door and hope she chose to follow it? “Do you want me to call a cab for you?”

“No need. I took the subway.”

I didn’t hide my shock. I’d counted on her and everyone else from Chapin being too afraid to journey this way. “Do you want me to walk you to the station?” I asked.

“Oh, I know the way. I’ve been there loads of times.”

She seemed to be baiting me and I realized for the first time that her visit wasn’t just about trying to get information about me; there was something she wanted to tell me. “Seriously?” I asked.

She nodded, a smile lingering on her lips. “Jo and I do it all the time. You can’t spend your whole life on the Upper East Side, right?”

“So what do you do when you come here?”

“A little bit of this and that. Go to the USO dances, mostly. Jo can’t get enough of the sailors.”

“And you?”

“I prefer a man in an Air Corps uniform.”

“And your parents don’t mind?”

“Hell’s bells—I’d never tell them. Could you imagine? And it’s not like I’m serious with any of them. It’s all about the chase.”

“The what?”

She tilted her head at me the way Aunt Miriam used to when I said something precious and naïve. “You know—what you can make them do for you. How much you can make them spend. I haven’t paid for a dinner out in two months.”

I’m sure I wore my disgust like a masquerade mask. But Grace was in her own little world, where it was perfectly acceptable to go out with a boy just so she could later share the tale of what a goon he was. “And then that’s it?” I said. “You never see them again?”

“What’s to see? They’re off to war and I’m off to school.” She inhaled the cigarette. She was, mercifully, reaching its end.

“It just seems like you’re using them.”

“It’s not like they’re getting nothing in return.”

I raised an eyebrow, as Pearl had done when she wanted me to understand that Rhona’s past trouble had to do with sex.

“Not that!” said Grace. “Not from me, anyway. But a kiss or two and a few dances go a long way toward making them feel like they aren’t being taken advantage of. Besides, you can’t use someone who doesn’t want to be used.” She said it like it was a pronouncement written on a holy scroll. Were these her words or her new friend Josephine’s?

“It seems strange to go to all that trouble for a boy you’re not planning on seeing again.”

“Why? Even if I really liked them, it’s not like it could ever go anywhere. I might as well date a negro.” She extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, looped her pocketbook around her arm, and fluffed her hair in the mantel mirror. “You should come out with us sometime. It’s a real gas. They can’t get enough of private school girls. Of course, we don’t have to tell them you don’t go to Chapin anymore.”

Because heaven forbid we be honest with them about
something.
“That would be swell.”

“Let’s make a plan to get together next week. I promise you Mother won’t be around. I am so embarrassed about her behavior. I could just die.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve practically forgotten all about it.”

“That’s what I love about you, Iris. You’re just so … resilient.”

Resilient. That was a new one. I opened the door and held it for her as she passed through. “Be careful out here,” I said. “It’s a rough neighborhood.”

CHAPTER

14

ONCE GRACE WAS OUT OF THE HOUSE and up the street, I emptied the ashtray, picked the remnants of her cigarette from the rug, and mulled over her strange visit. I just couldn’t believe that her trip to the Lower East Side was motivated by concern for me. After all, she could have called me on the telephone and accomplished just as much. Something else had sent her here. But what? If she didn’t know he was missing, maybe she was hoping to run into Tom. That seemed unlikely though—she’d never mentioned him. What if Rhona and Suze had it all wrong? Maybe Tom had a crush on Grace that she never returned, and he’d exaggerated the relationship to his friends as a way of breaking free of Rhona. It wasn’t hard to imagine Grace paying him a little attention one night and then tossing him aside like her military boyfriends. And if she was embarrassed to have momentarily been attracted to someone like him, she certainly wasn’t going to mention it to me.

But why come here?

As I finished cleaning, Mrs. Mrozenski came into the room and smiled at my efforts.

“Your friend is gone.”

“No.”

“She’s upstairs?”

“No, I mean she’s gone, but she’s not my friend. Not any-more.”

She touched my hair, smoothing it with her palm. “This is good, Iris. You don’t need to be around people like her.” How could she tell so much about Grace in so little time? I wanted to ask her. It seemed to me that despite all the hours I’d spent learning to read people, I was still a very poor judge of character.

“She’s changed a lot,” I said.

“You have, too. That is life.” She approached the mantel and straightened the picture Grace had plopped haphazardly back into place. “Dinner will be ready soon. I make sausages tonight.”

“That sounds great.”

She glanced toward the office. “Your father is not here.”

“Not yet.”

“You two make peace?”

So she knew about how things had been between us. Was she exercising the same sixth sense that told her Grace Dunwitty was bad news, or had Pop come to her asking for advice during the hours when I was sleeping?

“Not yet.”

“He worries about you, Iris. Maybe more than most fathers. He has been through a lot.”

“I know.”

“We don’t have to agree, but we can show respect. Sometimes that’s all anyone wants.”

While she returned to the kitchen, I went into the office, worried that Grace might have left some evidence of her visit during her brief time in there. Pop’s paperwork lay strewn around the desk and his notes about Tom’s case were on top. He had been to the prison where Tom’s brother, Michael, was held. So he knew about that. According to his notes, Tom hadn’t been to see him in two months, a fact Michael seemed less than happy about. “He said his brother came to see him at least once a month,” Pop had written in his messy, military scrawl. “He figured either his parents had put a kibosh on the trips or Tom had a Hershey Bar that was taking up his attentions.” Pop had also found out about Tom’s previous disappearance. He’d talked privately with Mrs. Barney, who “seemed reticent to discuss her son’s previous comings and goings, but eventually admitted he had left before and returned with a face full of fading bruises. She never learned the source of his injuries but insisted he keep them hidden from his father.”

There was also an inventory of what had been found in Tom’s locker: gym shoes, cigarettes, textbooks, gum wrappers, and the note Pop had told the Barneys about. It read, “If you’re serious, meet me at 240 Houston Street #7D at 4:00.” Pop was no slouch. He’d checked out the address and made a note of his findings: “240 Houston #7D is a private physician’s office. The occupant didn’t recognize the photo of T.B., but did say the area was a popular hangout for youth because of the private back alley. No one in T.B.’s alleged group of friends copped to writing the note.”

I felt a mix of pride and disappointment. Pop had done all right without me. The only thing he hadn’t yet learned of, or at least made note of, was Tom’s relationship with Grace.

Should I tell Pop about her? I was on thin ice with him as it was; if I told him about Grace, I would have to tell him I’d been working on the case, and who knows what would happen then. Besides, I wasn’t sure Grace was involved. In fact, so far I had no proof that Tom and she even had a relationship.

So that would be my first step: verify what was going on between Tom and Grace. And maybe then I could let Pop know there was a lead he’d missed that was worth following up on.

A car door shut outside the window. I spied a yellow cab out front. Pop was home. I returned the notes to their original position, left the office, closed the door, and landed on the sofa just as Pop arrived.

“Hi,” he said as he came into the house.

“Hi,” I replied, my voice soft and hesitant. I wanted to congratulate him on getting so far on the case and apologize for thinking he couldn’t do it alone. I could tell from the stiffness in his shoulders that our argument that afternoon was still playing in his head.

“Have a nice nap?” he asked.

“It was fine.”

I didn’t want to become like Grace, crabby to my parents because I thought I’d earned that right. Mrs. Mrozenski was right: I didn’t have to agree with Pop, any more than he had to agree with me, but he deserved my respect.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I said. “You’re right: common sense should’ve told me that I shouldn’t go to Harlem and I definitely shouldn’t have drunk anything. I’m not going to apologize for coming home late because, honestly, I didn’t know I was breaking a rule. The others had curfews and if I thought I had one I would’ve followed it, but you never told me.”

“Iris—”

I held up my hand to stop him. “I’m also sorry for disappearing today. I was feeling homesick and I wanted to see Grace. I knew you were angry enough that you probably wouldn’t let me go, and so I did it before you had a chance to tell me not to. That was dumb of me.”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. He must’ve been worried I was out drinking again, or doing something else he never expected from me. The desire to see an old friend was something he could relate to.

“You can trust me,” I said. “I promise. But I can’t be locked up here all day every day, Pop. I’m lonely.”

He sat where Grace had sat earlier, sighing as his back came in contact with the overstuffed cushion. He worked his hands into a ball, the skin reddening as he squeezed them together. “This girl you went to see was someone you went to Chapin with?” I nodded. “Good girl, good family?”

If only he knew. “The best.”

He wagged a finger at me. “No more Harlem. No more drinking.”

I nodded my pledge.

“Maybe I was harsh before. House arrest is over. But I want you to stay in this neighborhood. No more trips uptown. Not for the time being, anyway.”

I didn’t see any point in arguing with him, so I nodded my agreement.

I FIGURED SUNDAY was a lost day. Grace would be busy with church and brunch, so there was no point in trying to contact her. And besides, I had a feeling that it was best to let her come to me again. In her house, surrounded by all those silent expectations for how she should behave, she hadn’t been honest with me. And while I may not have liked the girl who showed up on my doorstep, at least she was free here.

I spent Sunday lolling around the house, listening to the radio and reading the papers. On Monday I arrived at school early, hoping I might see Benny. I’m not sure what I was thinking by getting there before the morning bell. Benny wasn’t the kind of boy to come to school early. In fact, it was amazing he came to school at all.

“Iris?”

As I scanned the front lawn looking for any sign of the Rainbows, Pearl approached me. Her books were wedged beneath one pudgy arm, her lunch hanging limp in her other hand.

“Hi,” I said.

“How was Friday night?”

It felt like a million years ago. When I thought about explaining everything that had happened since I last saw her, I felt weary. “It was fine.”

The warning bell rang. We had ten minutes to get to class.

“I missed you on Saturday.”

That was right; we’d made plans to get together so I could tell her about my trip to the Savoy. Of course, that was before Pearl had squealed on me when I needed her the most.

“I kind of assumed you’d know our plans would be canceled when you told my pop I wasn’t with you on Friday,” I said.

“I’m so sorry for that. When he came by, my father was there. There was no way I could lie and get away with it.”

That softened me. A little.

“And I’m sorry about Friday afternoon. About how I acted,” she said.

I tried to remember what had bothered me so much about her behavior and couldn’t. Mama. That was right. She’s been mad that I hadn’t told her about her death.

My good mood evaporated.

“Did you find out anything about Tom?”

I should’ve said no and walked away, but my desire to get back at her overruled any logic coursing through me. “Sort of. I found out he had another girlfriend right before he disappeared. A girl I knew at Chapin.”

Her face grew pink. It wasn’t what she had wanted to hear. “Really? Did Rhona know?”

“Rhona knew, all right. In fact, she got another boyfriend as payback.”

“Was it serious with the other girl?” Her lower lip quivered.

“He thought it was. He was heartbroken when she called it off.”

People pushed past us as they entered the building and headed toward their homerooms.

“I better blow,” I said.

“So I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Maybe.”

She skulked away, clearly unhappy that her apologies hadn’t made everything perfect again. But lunch with Pearl meant having to pretend I hadn’t changed in the last two days, or launching into a long explanation of everything that had happened, and I just didn’t want to do that.

Besides, there was a chance Benny might want to sit with me.

I spent the morning trying to figure out how I could avoid Pearl in the cafeteria. Fortunately, as I arrived at lunch, the perfect distraction landed in my lap.

“Iris! Come join us,” said Suze. I looked toward the table Pearl and I usually occupied and offered the waiting Pearl a shrug. Then I followed Suze to the cluster of other Rainbows. Rhona and Maria sat together. Maria had that day’s hot lunch. Rhona had an apple and an orange. An empty seat had been left next to Benny and I slid into it, trying not to stare at the mass of bruises obscuring his handsome face. No wonder he’d slept on Suze’s bedroom floor. Even two days out he looked gory.