A Farewell to Yarns

“Seventeen years—?' he said brokenly, as if expecting a day by day accounting of the entire duration.

Pruning it to the minimum, she got the story out.

“Now, let me get this straight,' Mel said after he'd thought for a few minutes. 'Mrs. Wagner and her husband have no children together, but he has two sons from a previous marriage, and she had one she'd given up for adoption: this Bobby Bryant. Where's her husband?'

“I'm not sure. Possibly on the island where they live, but he wasn't there when she left. She told me that. He could be anywhere in the world. He has international business interests. You don't think he had something to do with this?'

“I'm not thinking anything. Just asking questions.'

“Come on, that sounds like a line from 'Dragnet.' “

He smiled. 'Just where I learned it. You like it?' He went to the kitchen and returned with a saucer for Jane to use as an ashtray. 'Tell me about Mrs. Wagner. What was she like?”

“I don't know, really.'

“But you said she was coming to stay with you for Christmas.'

“No, she was going to try to. But I was determined it wasn't going to happen when I'd met Bobby. As it was, she didn't stay with me at all. We went over to help Fiona Howard—the big house on the triple lot next door—with something, and Fiona mentioned that this house was for sale, and Phyllis bought it. It was Fiona who saw you over here and called me.'

“Yesterday? She got here yesterday, saw a house, bought it, and moved in—all in the same day? That sounds like something from Willy Wonka.'

“I know it does. I thought so while it was happening. I don't know that she'd actually bought it yet, but she called some man to take care of it, and she met him and her husband's son John over here to sign some papers around six o'clock last night. Maybe she just signed a letter of intent and a rental agreement. I don't know. I wasn't with her. I just gave her my car to use while I was fixing dinner.'

“So she moved in then?'

“No, she came back and had dinner with us, and I brought her back over about nine—after some people delivered furniture and bedding and stuff.'

“People with furniture. She sees the house, buys it, and gets it mainly furnished in one day? Are you serious about this?'

“I know it's weird. See, Phyllis had been used to having tons of money and just telling people to get things done. And they got done.”

“She was overbearing, then?'

“No! Not in the least. It was like she thought that's how everybody lived. She was poor when she married Chet, but she was also very young, and he made lots of money fast. I think she'd just gotten used to living that way and forgot about things like weighing decisions and counting your money and shopping for bargains and waiting for things you want.”

Mel was unconvinced. 'The way you talk, either she was incredibly stupid or—'

“Or I'm making it up? She wasn't stupid. At least not as stupid as she must seem to you, hearing about her. She was just out of touch with reality. It seemed that Chet Wagner adored her beyond belief. He took her off to his own little fantasy world. They didn't have television, and she was never much for reading, so it was easy for her to get out of touch with real life. I don't think she ever consciously realized she was rich.'

“Come on!'

“I mean it. I don't think she ever assessed much of anything. She hadn't many introspective brain cells. Yesterday when I asked her things about Bobby and Chet's relationship, she looked like it was a totally new concept to her. I honestly don't think she'd ever wondered about it until I asked her.'

“Who was this boy's biological father?'

“I have no idea. Some kid she went to high school with. She told me she never saw him again.'

“She could have lied.'

“No, I don't think she knows how. Oh, dear. That sounds condescending. What I mean is, she could keep a secret, like Bobby's existence, because that meant just not saying anything. It didn't take cunning. But lying would take imagination, and hers was confined to Christmas ornaments and knitting patterns.' At this questioning expression, she explained about Phyllis's interest in hand crafts. 'That's sort of why she was here. At this house, I mean. I'm on the placement committee for the church Christmas craft bazaar—'

“Of course you are,' he said.

“What does that mean?'

“Nothing at all,' he said, stifling a smile. 'Go on. You're on the placement committee—'

“The bazaar's being held at Fiona's house, and Phyllis came along to help, since she likes craft stuff and is wonderfully creative about it. Fiona told her about this house, and she came over and looked at it, then called somebody—I got the impression he worked for her husband—and asked him to take care of buying it and furnishing it right away. Now I have this awful feeling she was in a rush because she'd caught on that I didn't like her precious Bobby.'

“Didn't she even consult with her husband?'

“No. She was leaving him. Or he'd sent her away. No! Don't get that look on your face! Chet would never have done anything bad to Phyllis. He adored her.'

“You just said he'd thrown her out.'

“It was just going to be temporary. I'm sure of it,' Jane said, feeling she had to defend Chet,even though she realized how bad this looked for him. 'You see, Phyllis was mad about this newfound son of hers, and I don't think Chet could stand him. She didn't say so, but I'm sure that's all that was wrong. My own guess is that Chet figured that Phyllis would see through Bobby sooner if they were off by themselves. And I believe she would have. He was so dreadful—she'd have run out of excuses for him before long. It's just supposition, but I think he probably felt their own marriage would suffer less in the long run if he let her make the inevitable break with Bobby on her own, without his interference. They'd have worked it out. I'm sure.”

VanDyne didn't seem impressed with her reasoning. 'So you knew this Chet pretty well, too?'

“No, I hardly knew him at all. I'm just guessing what an intelligent, considerate man would do in these circumstances. I do know that he was both intelligent and considerate.' VanDyne gave her such a patronizing look that she burst out, 'Look, I freely admit I know nothing of police procedure, but I know every bit as much about human nature as you do. Probably more, and I knew these people as well. You didn't.”

VanDyne didn't apologize, but he had the good grace to look properly chastised. 'So where was her son all this time yesterday while she was moving in—or having people do it for her?”

Jane felt better for telling him off, however mildly. 'Buzzing around Chicago someplace in a rented Jaguar. We got back from the airport with the two of them around noon, and he was gone half an hour later. I didn't see him again. I imagine Phyllis got in touch with him somehow and told him where to come home. But he wasn't here when I came over with her and her luggage around nine.'

“This man she called—who was he?”

“Hmmm, she called him George and asked for a poet—”

Mel VanDyne looked confused. 'She called somewhere and asked to speak to a poet? Or she asked George to find her a poet?'

“No, it was a poet's name. Thoreau? Eliot? Chaucer? Defoe? I'll think of it in a minute. He wrote something about lilacs and Lincoln—Whitman, that's what it was. George Whitman.”

VanDyne looked up at the ceiling as if despairing of ever understanding her mental processes. 'If you don't know where her husband is, I guess we better call this Whitman. Wait, you said her husband has a son or sons in Chicago? What about them?'

“Two sons. One lives in England, I think, and one of them lives around here someplace. His name is John Wagner, but I don't know the street address. I think, on the whole, it would be better to call this Whitman person and let him tell Chet and his sons.”

The book VanDyne had brought downstairs was Phyllis's address book. He handed it to her. She opened it and flipped to 'W' where there was not only no Whitman, no Wagner, there wasn't anybody. Glancing through, she was saddened to see that fewer than half the letters had any listing. Poor Phyllis really had been isolated.

There were two women listed with Philadelphia addresses. Maybe a mother and sister or cousins or