Guilt

I said, “Just go for it.”

She inhaled. “Okay … all right … Donny Rader smokes meerschaum pipes.”

“Does he.”

“Do you know what meerschaum is?”

“Some kind of carved stone.”

“It’s a mineral, Lieutenant. It washes up on the beach and people carve it into smoking pipes. Donny Rader has lots of carved meerschaum smoking pipes, I don’t know how many. He smokes weed in them, not tobacco. He’s a compulsive collector, loves things. To my mind, it’s just greed. Like cars: He’s got a dozen, maybe more, even though he hardly ever drives them. He has more clothing than I do.” One hand kneaded the other. “He collects women. But we don’t need to go there.”

“Sounds like your husband leads a busy life, Ms. Moon.”

She flinched.

I said, “There’s another collection.”

“Yes,” she said. “There is. He has a closet full of guns. When we were living together I made him lock them up in a big safe. That I paid for. For the children’s safety.”

“Where are the guns now, Ms. Moon?”

“At his place.”

“You don’t live together?”

“He lives in the adjoining property. I bought all of it years ago but I only use part of it.”

“You know about his gun closet because-”

“I saw it. Not recently, we don’t have much … I stay at my place, he’s at his.”

“When did you see the gun closet?”

Her chest heaved. “Maybe half a year, I really can’t be sure.”

“You went to visit-”

“Not a visit, an obligation. He needed to sign a tax form from our accountant. Our life is complicated, you can delegate a lot of things but at some point you still need to sign your name to papers. All the financial forms come to me because he’d neglect them.”

“So around six months ago-”

“Could be seven months, eight, five, I don’t know. What I do recall is he was still in bed, the place was a mess, as usual. There was a woman. I asked her to leave for a moment. So he could sign the tax form. The safe’s in a closet in his bedroom. The closet door was open, there were also loose guns. On shelves. And big ones-rifles- propped up on the floor of the closet. I got out of there.”

“Has he ever threatened you with a firearm?”

“Not yet.”

“You think he might.”

“At this point, Lieutenant, I don’t know what to think.”

I said, “About the meerschaums …”

Milo’s eyebrows rose.

Prema said, “Yes, of course. The meerschaums. The lovely meerschaums … when you collect them, the big deal is to get them to color gradually as you smoke them. From white to amber. For that to happen, the pipes are coated after they’re carved. Then the owner recoats them from time to time.”

Her hands clenched. “What’s used for the coating, Lieutenant, is beeswax.”

Milo’s lips pursed. “Really.”

“Specifically, confectioner’s beeswax, Lieutenant. With all those pipes, Donny Rader must go through the stuff like crazy because he buys pots of confectioner’s beeswax. Back when we were living together, I saw it in his workshop. He builds things. Birdhouses, ashtrays. Not very well.”

“You’ve seen him work with beeswax.”

Nod. “One time he called me in to watch him work on a pipe. Showing off. He heated up the beeswax, brushed it on, waited for it to cool, then buffed it shiny. About a month ago, he ordered six fresh pots of beeswax. I know that because instead of going through his purchasing assistant-a gopher at Apex, our management firm, we each have one-he ordered it online himself. Using my personal credit card, the package ended up on my desk. It came from a baking supplies outfit, my first thought was the cook had bought it, someone had screwed up and used my personal card instead of one of the household cards. Then I opened it and realized what was inside and called him to take it. We met at the gate to his place. I asked him why he’d bought it using my name. He didn’t really have an answer, was pretty much loaded on weed or whatever. As usual.”

“He say anything at all?”

“He mumbled something about not being able to find his own card. Which made sense, he’s always losing things. It didn’t explain why he hadn’t gone through Apex, but I didn’t push it, this was wax, no big deal, and frankly the less contact we have with each other the better. I forgot about the whole incident until I learned today that he’d bought something else saying it was for me. Only this time he had contacted my purchasing assistant at Apex, probably using one of my email addresses, and bought … those terrible things.”

“You know the order came from him because-”

“Because I didn’t buy them, Lieutenant. He’s obviously trying to cover his tracks. By casting suspicion on me.”

Milo studied her.

She said, “I know it sounds crazy, but, Lieutenant, I will take any lie-detector test you want me to take. I have never once in my life bought beetles or surgical tools. Or beeswax. Nor have I ever asked anyone to buy those things for me. Check out every single computer in my house including my personal computer. I’m sure you’ve got specialists who can do that.”

“Do you know for a fact that he bought the wax online?”

“How else?”

“Maybe he got on the phone and ordered.”

She thought. “Okay, good point, maybe-so examine our phone records, we’ve got I don’t know how many lines between us, go ahead and trace them all. Then do the same thing for his phones and see what you learn.”

Milo rolled his tie up to his collar, let it drop. “Any idea why your husband would need beetles and surgical tools?”

Her hands clenched. “Do I have to say it?”

She turned to me.

I gave her my best therapist smile.

She said, “Fine, I’m afraid-I’m terrified that it had something to do with that poor baby in the park. And that’s another thing. The park. Like I told Dr. Delaware just before you got here, Donny Rader has a connection to that place. He used to work as a caddie at the golf course right next door. Back when he was a nothing.”

Milo’s bulk inched forward. “This is all very interesting, Ms. Moon. Thanks for coming forward.”

“What’s my choice, Lieutenant? He’s obviously trying to ruin me.”

“So you believe your husband is-”

“Could I ask a favor, Lieutenant? Please don’t call him that, he’s my husband in name only.”

“You believe Mr. Rader had something to do with the baby in the park.”

“I don’t know what else to think, Lieutenant. Those bones were treated just like he treats his stupid pipes. After he sicced those horrible bugs on them.”

“Any idea why he’d do such a thing?”

“No,” she said. “I mean he’s not a caring person, quite the opposite. But I never imagined … not until Dr. Delaware told me about the beeswax.”

“No idea at all what Mr. Rader’s motive might be?”

The question I hadn’t gotten to when the bell rang.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I have an idea. But not one that makes sense.”

“What’s that, ma’am?”

“It’s not rational. Not in terms of normal people, anyway,” she said. “I mean how can you ever explain things