Schoenfeld glanced quickly at April, dismissed her. 'That other detective was already here. Isn't that enough for one day?'
'We have a few more questions.'
Schoenfeld blocked the door. 'What exactly do you want to know?'
'We need information about the party vendors,' April said, not wanting to get his back up about their looking into his daughter's activities in the last few months, weeks, days, hours of her life.
'My wife and my daughter would be the ones who dealt with the . . .' He hiccuped and closed his eyes, swaying on his feet like a big tree caught in a wind. April saw that he'd been drinking.
He blinked, recovered his focus and balance, pushed away the hand the Mike held out to him. 'Come in,' he said abruptly.
The smell of food twitched at April's empty belly as she followed him into the kind of home she'd seen often on Central Park West. The living room was furnished with many traditional chairs she recognized as antiques and fat sofas upholstered in heavy brocade. A thick, patterned carpet partially covered the wide-planked wood floor. Voluminous drapes with tassel fringe, crystal lamps, inlaid tables, and gilded mirrors on the walls, now obscured by a soapy film, finished the look. From another part of the house came the muted sound of children's voices. About thirty well-dressed males sat and stood around with plates of food in their hands.
In the dining room, a spread of party food was laid out on a huge slab of a table, a crowd of women were loading their plates, and a heavy woman with a blond wig was directing traffic. April had forgotten the Styrofoam head with Tovah's wig on it, but she remembered it now. Her mother had one, too.
'Suri, these detectives want to talk to you,' Schoenfeld said to the woman. Then he returned to the living room, where the men were.
'We're sorry to intrude. I'm Sergeant Woo; this is Lieutenant Sanchez,' April said.
The woman put her hand out to a smaller woman near her, wiry with steely blue hair and a hard expression. 'My mother,' she said faintly.
'I'm Belle Levine.'
The two women led the way through the kitchen out of the house onto the back porch, where there was outdoor furniture, a large table, a love seat, chairs, and a glider. There Mrs. Schoenfeld started to cry. 'Why would anyone do this?'
'Tell me about your daughter, Mrs. Schoenfeld,'
April said gently. Mike gave April a sympathetic look and went into the house.
'She was a beautiful girl. Eighteen years old, nothing but childhood behind her, her whole life in front of her. What is there to tell?' her mother said.
'What was Tovah like? Who did she know?'
'A girl who led a quiet life, didn't know anybody, never dated a single boy but Schmuel,' her grandmother said.
'He was a terrible choice. I'll never forgive myself,' Tovah's mother sobbed.
'A terrible choice?' April murmured.
Suri Schoenfeld stopped crying abruptly. 'Are you Chinese?' she demanded.
'Yes,' April told her.
'You people have arranged marriages, don't you?'
'Some do,' April admitted.
'You see.' Suri pounded the arm of her chair. 'I wanted the best for my daughter. Who wouldn't?' A wail escaped her.
'Suri,' her mother said sharply. 'Don't blame yourself. Tovah chose
'But I chose the family. Terrible family. Look. They won't show their faces here. It's a
You should check those people. They're criminals, Russians with relatives in the mob.'
'Suri, you don't know that,' her mother said sharply.
'They took the ring off a dying girl's finger!' Surf's grief poured out. 'What kind of people would do that? Now there's a curse on all my children. I'll never marry any of them. Murderers,' she wailed.
'Tell me about the last two weeks,' April said gently. 'Tell me everything you did.'
Suri wanted to talk. She told about Tovah's visit to the
last Thursday, the ritual bath. April made a note to ask Jason Frank about it.
'And the wig maker to pick up the wig, also Thursday.'
April finally had the chance to ask about the wigs. She opened her mouth to ask, but Suri Schoenfeld anticipated the question.
'We cover our hair after marriage,' Suri said. 'Modesty.'
'Ah.' April glanced at Suri's mother, with her own steely blue hair.
'Not all of us,' Belle said pointedly, ending the inquiry.
Then Suri told her about the many calls back and forth to Wendy Lotte, the wedding planner, because the Ribikoffs had been so difficult about the final lists. People who hadn't been invited were coming. People who said they were coming couldn't come. Not only that, Schmuel's father was allergic to fish, nuts, and gluten and didn't want anything with those ingredients at the dinner. That was about as difficult as people could get.
'Nothing with flour!' Suri was still reeling over it. 'It was a nightmare. Why couldn't they have told us that before?'
April noted everything, their trips to Manhattan to meet with the florist, a person improbably called Louis the Sun King, and with the caterer to constantly revamp the menu. Their meetings with Wendy Lotte, and their visits with Tang Ling and her fitter Kim. Suri went with her mother, Belle, most often. When necessary, they took Tovah with them.
'Tovah didn't always go with you?' April asked.
'It was so tiring.' The two women exchanged glances.
'Tiring? Tovah was a young woman.'
'She had migraines.'
'What was her mood in the last few days?'
'Except for the migraines, she was fine.'
'Was she anxious about getting married? You said she had no experience with boys.'
Suri looked exasperated. 'I went to college. I dated. What's so great?'
'She was not anxious,' the grandmother insisted. 'Every girl wants to get married. Who wants to be an old maid?'
April hid her ringless ring finger under her notebook.
April had barely graduated from high school at eighteen.
Then Suri launched into an explanation of their preparations for the Sabbath, the reason she'd hired a party planner. 'I start on Wednesday. For a family this size, we need ten loaves of bread, six chickens, fish. I cook everything myself and always do five courses. I couldn't do that and a wedding too,' she explained.
Such elaborate cooking and arrangements for a twenty-four-hour period every week! It was as bad as being Chinese.
'This was my first break in nineteen years. My husband owed it to me,' Suri said tearfully.
'Can you think of anyone who disliked your daughter, Mrs. Schoenfeld?'
'Rich and pretty girls always excite envy,' Suri said smoothly. 'I know that from my own experience. But it couldn't be one of us. Jews don't have guns.' She was certain about that.
'One more thing. Did you notice anyone leaving the sanctuary before the ceremony? Someone from either family missing?'
'Oh, I have no idea. The only person I couldn't find when we came in was Wendy. I needed her to do something. I looked for her, but she wasn't around. Can I go back in the house now?'
Wendy again. April nodded. 'How long do you sit shivah?'
'Seven days,' Suri said. 'I don't know how I'll get through it.'
