He laughed. “You mean, are we shacking up? No. That’s why we stayed friends.”
“Did she have a boyfriend?”
“There have been guys here and there, but nobody for some time. She told me she’s worn out on men. Said we weren’t nothing but children, always needing something from somebody. I told her she was wrong, but I gotta say, she seems happier now that she stopped chasing after men.”
“Anybody been through here lately with a special interest in her?”
“Naw. Nobody even asks where she’s gone. Makes me mad. Except for you and a cop that was in here earlier, nobody’s even showed an interest.”
I pulled out a business card and wrote my home number on the back. “Here. If you hear from her or from anyone who might know more about her, let me know, okay?”
He studied it at arm’s length. I suspected he wore bifocals, but was too vain to put them on.
“You want something to eat?” he asked, tucking the card in a shirt pocket.
We ordered a couple of sandwiches. As soon as Johnny walked off to make them, Steven whispered, “It
“Slow down. We have a lot of ground to cover. But I agree, it seems to be one of the few things they had in common. But it could be a coincidence; thousands of women worked for Mercury during those years. We don’t even know for a certainty that Rosie is Thalia, but if she is, Thanatos may be choosing these women because of their ages, and because they’re single.”
“Do you think she’s dead? Rosie, I mean?”
“I don’t know.” That, of course, was stretching the truth. If Rosie was Thalia, I figured the chances that Thanatos had delayed his plans were slim to none; I just didn’t know if they had reached their conclusion.
“What did Mr. Smith mean about someone hurting you?”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to hear it right now, and I don’t need to tell it.” At his look of chagrin, I added, “Don’t worry that you’ve offended me. I’ll tell you someday.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It isn’t prying, really. Now, you had some research to show me?”
He pulled out the list of E.J.’s research papers and articles and interests. Most were about the U.S. in the postwar era, particularly about two topics: women war workers and the Truman presidency.
“She was really interested in the role of women in the workforce in the postwar era,” Steven said. “But she couldn’t get published back when she first wrote about it, in the late fifties and early sixties. So she started to delve into the Truman administration.”
Johnny brought the sandwiches, which were surprisingly good, given his lack of enthusiasm over being of service. He didn’t linger at the table, just set the plates down and ambled back to the kitchen. As we ate, I thought about E.J. Blaylock and Rosie Thayer. I looked across the table. The professor certainly hadn’t given up on men.
“Do you have family in this area, Steven?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“Friends?”
He shrugged. “Not really. The two or three people I could call friends have gone home for the holidays.” It didn’t seem to bother him much.
“What about you?” I asked. “Will you be going home for the holidays?”
He shook his head. “My folks are in Florida. I can’t afford to go back there. And I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“Why not?”
After a long sigh he said, “They didn’t approve of my relationship with E.J. I haven’t had much to say to them for the last year.”
“Sorry. You see?
“It’s okay. I appreciate the concern.”
“I just wonder if this sleeplessness and isolation is healthy for you.”
“What should I do? Start bedding women like Lindsey? Hardly any solace in that. I’d rather be alone. Or with you.” He blushed. “I mean, working on this with you.”
“That’s fine as far as it goes, but you probably need more than a research project to settle your nerves. And no, I’m not talking about indiscriminate sex as a remedy for insomnia. But why not make an effort to get to know some people? People you could respect.”
Whatever reply Steven might have made was forestalled when Johnny walked up and gave us the check. I paid it and left him a handsome tip, hoping it would help to keep me in his good graces. We said good-bye to him and started the walk back to the newspaper.
Although I had expected a lot of questions about E.J. and Rosie once we were outside, Steven was quiet as we walked. When we reached the Wrigley Building, he stopped and said, “I guess I’d better be going. I promised Dr. Ferguson — he’s the department chair — that I would have all of E.J.’s things out of her office today.”
“What?”
“Well, the police have taken what they need. The dean asked the campus police to keep it sealed, but I guess they finally convinced him that it… it wouldn’t serve any purpose. The department wants to use her office.”
