The Murder Book

'Red-tails,' she said. 'They're good for the vermin, but the horses never get used to them.'

I said, 'Mrs. Schwinn, what did Pierce tell you about the unsolved case?'

'That it was an unsolved case.'

'What else?'

'Nothing else. He didn't even tell me the girl's name. Just that she was a girl who got torn up and it was his case and he'd failed to solve it. I tried to get him to open up, but he wouldn't. Like I said, Pierce always wanted to shelter me from his old life.'

'But he talked to Dr. Harrison about the case.'

'You'd have to ask Dr. Harrison about that.'

'Dr. Harrison never spoke to you about it?'

'He just said…' She trailed off and twisted so that all I could see was the outline of her jaw.

'Mrs. Schwinn?'

'The only reason it came up in the first place was because of Pierce's sleep. He'd started having dreams. Nightmares.' She turned suddenly and faced me. 'How'd you know about that? What was it, a real good guess?'

'Pierce was a good man, and good men don't take well to corruption.'

'I don't know about any corruption.' Her voice lacked conviction.

'When did the nightmares start?' I said.

'A few months before he died. Two, three months.'

'Anything happen to bring them on?'

'Not that I saw. I thought we were happy. Dr. Harrison told me he'd thought so, too, but turns out Pierce had never stopped being plagued- that's the word he used. Plagued.'

'By the case.'

'By failure. Dr. Harrison said Pierce had been forced to walk away from the case when they railroaded him off the department. He said Pierce had fixed it in his mind that giving up had been some kind of mortal sin. He'd been punishing himself for years- the drugs, abusing his body, living like a bum. Dr. H. thought he'd helped Pierce get past it, but he'd been wrong, the nightmares came back. Pierce just couldn't let go.'

She gave me a long, hard stare. 'Pierce broke rules for years, always wondered if he'd have to pay one day. He loved being a detective but hated the police department. Didn't trust anyone. Including your friend, Sturgis. When he got railroaded, he was sure Sturgis had something to do with it.'

'When I was here with Detective Sturgis, you said Pierce had spoken kindly of him. Was that true?'

'Not strictly,' she said. 'Pierce never breathed a word to me about Sturgis or anyone else from his old life. These are all things he told Dr. Harrison, and I was trying to keep Dr. Harrison out of all this. But yes, Pierce had changed his opinion about Sturgis. Followed Sturgis's career and saw he was a good detective. Found out Sturgis was homosexual and figured he had to have a lot of courage to stay in the department.'

'What else did Dr. Harrison tell you about the case?'

'Just that walking away had stuck in Pierce's brain like a cancer. That's what the nightmares were all about.'

'Chronic nightmares?' I said.

'Chronic enough. Sometimes they'd hit Pierce three, four times a week, other times he'd be okay for a stretch. Then, boom, all over again. You couldn't predict, and that made it worse, because I never knew what to expect when my head hit the pillow. Things got to a point where I was scared to go to bed, started waking up at night, myself.' Her smile was crooked. 'Kind of funny, I'd be lying there all wound up, unable to sleep and Pierce'd be snoring away and I'd tell myself it was finally over. Then the next night…'

'Did Pierce say anything during the nightmares?'

'Not a word, he just moved- thrashed. That's how I'd know a fit was coming on: The bed would start moving- thumping, like an earthquake, Pierce's feet kicking the mattress. Lying on his back, kicking with his heels- like he was marching somewhere. Then his hands would shoot up.' She stretched her arms toward the ceiling. 'Like he was being arrested. Then his hands would slam down fast, start slapping the bed and waving around wild, and soon he'd be grunting and punching the mattress and kicking- his feet never stopped. Then he'd arch his back and freeze- like he was paralyzed, like he was building up steam to explode and you could see his teeth gnashing and his eyes would pop real wide. But they weren't looking at anything, he was somewhere else- some hell only he could see. He'd hold that frozen pose for maybe ten seconds, then let go and start punching himself- in the chest, on the stomach, on the face. Sometimes, the next morning, he'd be bruised. I tried to stop him from hurting himself, but it was impossible, his arms were like iron rods, it was all I could do to jump out of the bed to avoid getting hit myself. So I'd just stand there and wait for him to finish. Just before he was finished, he'd let out a howl- this loud howl that would wake up the horses. They'd start mewling, and sometimes the coyotes would chime in. That was something to hear- coyotes screaming from miles away. Ever hear that? When a pack of them goes at it? It's not like a dog barking, it's a thousand creatures gone crazy. Ululation's the name for it. They're supposed to do it only when they're killing or mating, but Pierce's howling would get them going.'

She'd squeezed the bandana into a blue ball. Now she studied her fingers as they uncurled. 'Those coyotes were scared witless by the sound of Pierce's fear.'

She offered me a drink that I declined, got up and filled herself a glass of water from the kitchen tap. When she sat back down, I said, 'Did Pierce have any memory of the nightmares?'

'Nope. When the fit was over he'd just go back to sleep, and there'd be no mention of it. The first time that happened, I let it pass. The second time, I was shook up but still said nothing. The third time, I went to see Dr. Harrison. He listened and didn't say much and that evening he came by, paid a visit to Pierce- alone, in Pierce's darkroom. After that, Pierce started seeing him for regular sessions, again. About a week in, Dr. H. had me over to his house, and that's when he told me about Pierce struggling to live with failure.'

'So you and Pierce never talked about the case directly?'

'That's right.'

I said nothing.

She said, 'I know it's hard for you to understand, but that's what we were like. Close as two people can be, but there were sides to each of us that we didn't get into. I realize it's not fashionable to hold on to privacy, anymore. Everyone talks about everything to everyone else. But that's phony, isn't it? Everyone's got secret parts of their mind, Pierce and I were just honest about admitting it. And Dr. Harrison said if that's the way we really wanted it, that was our choice.'

So Bert had tried to edge husband and wife toward more openness, and they'd resisted.

Marge Schwinn said, 'It was the same with Pierce's drug problem. He was too proud to expose himself to me, so he used Dr. Harrison as a go-between. We were content with that. It kept things pleasant and positive between us.'

'Did you ever ask Dr. Harrison about the unsolved murder?'

Strong headshake. 'I didn't want to know. I figured for it to plague Pierce it had to be really bad.'

'Did the nightmares ever clear up?'

'After Pierce started seeing Dr. Harrison regularly again, they faded to maybe two, three times a month. Also, Pierce's photography hobby seemed to help, got him out of the house, got him some fresh air.'

'Was that Dr. Harrison's idea?'

She smiled. 'Yes, he bought Pierce the camera, insisted on paying for it. He does that. Gives people things. There was a gal used to live in town, Marian Purveyance, ran the Celestial Cafe before Aimee Baker took charge of it. Marian came down with a muscle disease that wasted her away, and Dr. Harrison was her main comfort. I used to visit Marian during her final days, and she told me Dr. Harrison decided she needed a dog for companionship. But Marian was in no physical state to take care of a dog, so Dr. Harrison found one for her- an old, half-lame retriever from the shelter that he kept at his house, fed, and bathed. He brought it over to Marian's for a few hours each day. That sweet old dog used to stretch out on Marian's bed, and Marian would lie there stroking it. Toward the end, Marian's fingers wouldn't work, and the dog must've known, because it rolled over right next to Marian and put its paw on Marian's hand so she'd have something to touch. Marian died with that old dog next to her, and a few