sitting on the table beside the coffee tray. That was my opening
“Have you read today’s paper?” I asked, indicating the Bugle.
Eric looked startled. “You don’t get that paper, do you?”
“I was told there was an article in it about Donna.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I do want to talk about Donna, yes. How do you feel about the article?”
“How do I feel about Elise’s roommate working as a stripper at Club Cavalier? How do I feel about her best friend corrupting my baby? I’ve dedicated my life to stopping the sin and the shame of this sort of thing. How do you think I feel?”
The words were there, but the passion wasn’t. It sounded as if Eric were reading the scripture lesson in church. Maybe it was because Donna was the sinner, rather than Elise. Eric opened the paper to the article and handed it to me. I pretended to read it, going “tsk-tsk” at appropriate moments.
“I guess this changes things,” I said, handing the paper back to him.
“It throws a monkey wrench into my feelings about Donna. When she came here she seemed like such a nice girl, well brought up…”
Eric seemed to run out of things to say. When he paused, I said, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You said that Donna came here several times when you were alone.”
“Twice. Maybe three times. No more.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“I believe I told you. She wanted to team up with Elise. She would be the songwriter, Elise would be the singer.”
“Who would write the music? I believe Donna writes words but not music.”
“Elise wrote some music. And I think she knew somebody who wrote music.”
“Of course, singers usually sing songs written by many songwriters. For instance, Frank Sinatra was partial to Cole Porter, but he sang songs written by many other songwriters, as well. I guess my real question is, why did Donna discuss this with you? Why didn’t she talk to Elise about it?”
“Oh, she did. All the time. But she felt that Elise was distancing herself, putting on airs, as she called it. I got the impression Donna thought Elise thought she was better than Donna. Of course she was…”
I had better get to the point. “So what did Donna want you to do? I mean, she didn’t just come here to cry in her coffee, did she?”
“You’d make a good detective,” Eric said, with a smile. “Donna asked me to convince Elise that they belonged together. She wanted me to go to bat for her.”
“Which you did?” I waited for Eric to tell me something new.
“I talked to Elise. I put in a word for Donna. Donna was nice to me. Don’t take this the wrong way, but she would sit on my lap, being careful not to hurt my leg, of course. She had beautiful…manners. She recognized my needs. June just treats me like an invalid. Say, you won’t tell June I told you this, will you?”
This was new, but I had better not dwell on it. “Of course not. But tell me more about how you think Donna felt about Elise-about their relationship. I know they were friends and all that, but if Donna came to you it must have been because there was a problem between them, or at least in her mind there was a problem between them. Elise was pulling away; isn’t that what you said? Okay, that sort of thing happens. If Elise didn’t want to team up with Donna she just had to make other plans.”
“Donna envied Elise…maybe she felt she was nothing without Elise. She almost seemed to be desperate to hold onto her.”
“That sounds like a love affair gone wrong.”
“Donna isn’t one of those lesbian dykes, if that’s what you mean. And my baby was normal too. But…I can’t ever be friends with Donna again. Not after what she did at Club Cavalier. Seducing men, breaking up families…”
In another minute the human race would be doomed to an early extinction. I said, “Donna is smart and talented, in her own right. She doesn’t need Elise for validation.”
“I’m no headshrinker. I don’t know what Donna needs. But she’d better watch out.”
We ate lunch in the Crescent Heights College cafeteria. Mark said that as far as he knew he hadn’t been suspended from using the cafeteria. Several students said hello to him as we went through the line and one wished him well. After we sat down I told him about the conversation I had had with Eric. I wanted his opinion about Donna.
“Donna appears to be a manipulator,” Mark said as he swallowed a bite of hamburger. “Strippers manipulate men. And she certainly has old Eric where she wants him.”
“He told me Donna sat in his lap,” I said. “She must have been watching the lap-dancers at Club Cavalier. Or maybe she participated.”
“And don’t forget the possibility that Eric may be impotent. That leg injury may be more than just his leg. Maybe she keeps Eric on her side by letting him taste her strawberries. Maybe that’s all he can do.”
I laughed. “Which may be one game more than June will play. But the real question about Donna is whether her ‘desperation’ about Elise, as Eric called it, was enough for her to kill Elise.”
“It’s possible. And in spite of what Eric told you, there may be more to their relationship that we don’t know about, or that he doesn’t know about.”
“Implying what?”
“Nothing. Or everything. Young women, even well brought up young women, sometimes go through periods of experimentation. At least that’s what I’ve heard. But even if there was nothing physical between them, it’s possible that Donna thought Elise was snubbing her. That could be very upsetting to her.”
“Eric also said that Donna had better watch out. I wonder what he meant by that.”
“It occurs to me that the time these people should have watched out was before Elise was killed.” Mark had been glancing around the noisy and crowded room. He gestured with his eyes and said, “Look three tables to your left.”
Speak of the devil. It was Donna, all right, sitting alone at a small table, eating a sandwich. Her profile was toward us and I didn’t think she had seen us. We studied her for a few seconds and I wondered something I had wondered many times before: How can people recognize their relatives and friends out of the billions of people in the world, many of whom must look like them? In Donna’s case she was very average looking; her features did not single her out and yet I was completely certain it was she from her hair, her head and arm movements, and other cues, however minor, that when taken together, added up to a complete picture. But as easy as it was to spot Donna, I knew it would have been easier to spot Elise, sitting at the same table.
“Stay here,” I said to Mark. “You’re not supposed to talk to her, but I’m going to.”
Mark looked concerned. “Be careful what you say.”
“I’m always careful.”
I took a circular route to Donna’s table, walking behind her so that when she saw me she would be facing away from Mark. I approached her from her other side and said, “Is this seat taken?”
“Oh…hi, Professor,” Donna said, startled, as she looked up from a book she was reading.
“I don’t mean to interrupt. I spotted you across a crowded room and wanted to say hello.”
“No, please sit down.” Donna had recovered her composure. “It’s good to see you. And I wanted to thank you again for inviting me to Professor Morgan’s…” she laughed, “…the other Professor Morgan’s farm. I had a great time.”
“I’m glad you could come,” I said. “We all enjoyed having you,” including Mark at least by implication, figuring that his opinion would weigh heaviest with her. “What are you reading?”
“Oh, this. It’s poetry. Emily Dickinson. It doesn’t have anything to do with any of my classes. I should be reading my physics book. Which reminds me, the class really missed having Dr. Pappas give the lecture yesterday. He makes everything so understandable. The professor who took over the class is an old guy-excuse me, I didn’t mean that in a derogatory way-who talks in long sentences and I couldn’t follow him well enough to take good notes. I hope Dr. Pappas gets his job back soon.”
