Fiddlers

‘Ham and cheese on a hard roll, butter and mustard,’ Jerry said by rote.

‘Wanna share it with me?’ Ollie asked. ‘I’ll buy us a few more of them later.’

‘Sure,’ Jerry said, and grinned, and reached into the bag. He unwrapped the sandwich. The roll had already been sliced in two, which made things easy. Together, they sat on the park bench, chewing. Jerry popped the can of Coke, offered it to Ollie. Ollie took a long swallow, handed it back.

‘So what is it you didn’t do?’ he asked.

‘Nothing with the father,’ Jerry said, and shook his head.

‘Father Nealy, you mean?’

‘No. Father Michael.’

Ollie nodded, bit into his half of the sandwich.

‘You knew Father Michael, huh?’ he asked.

‘Yes. When I was small.’

Forty, fifty years ago, Ollie figured. Time frame would’ve been right for when Father Michael was a pastor at Our Lady of Grace.

‘You’re investigating, right?’ Jerry said.

‘Investigating what, Jerry?’

‘What he done to us.’

‘What’d he do to you, Jerry?’

‘You know.’

‘No, I don’t know. Tell me.’

‘To both of us.’

‘Uh-huh. What’d he do, Jerry? It’s all right, you can tell me. He’s dead now.’

Jerry’s blue eyes opened wide.

‘He can’t hurt you anymore.’

‘He made me and this other kid…”

The blue eyes welled with tears. He buried his face in his hands. Shook his head in his hands. Sobbing into his hands.

‘You and another boy?’

‘Not together.’

‘Separately?’

Jerry nodded into his hands. Mumbled yes into his hands.

Ollie sat still and silent for several moments.

Then he said, ‘What was this other boy’s name?’

‘Was it Carlie?’ Jerry asked.

* * * *

In her mid-fifties, Geraldine Davies was still an attractive woman, and the detectives could easily imagine her as one of Alicia’s inner circle of friends back then in those halcyon days at Mercer Junior High and Harding High. Wearing lavender slacks and a matching cotton T-shirt, strappy low-heeled sandals, she greeted them at the door to her apartment in Majesta, offered them iced tea, and then led them out to a terrace seventeen stories above the street. There, within viewing distance of the Majesta Bridge, they sat sipping tea and enjoying the cool early afternoon breezes.

‘I was always sorry I lost touch with Alicia,’ she told them. ‘She was a very important part of my life back then. Well, all of us. Any of us who were fortunate enough to get close to her. She was a very special person. It’s a pity what happened to her. Well, getting killed the way she did, of course. But now I understand there was some sort of drug connection as well, is that right? Didn’t I see on television that she was selling drugs or something, some sort of Korean connection, was it? Is that true? If so, it’s a shame. She was so special.’

Then why did someone want her dead? Parker wondered.

Genero said it out loud.

‘Can you think of anyone back then who might have had reason to kill her now? Anyone bearing a grudge, for example?’

Long time to be bearing a grudge,’ Geraldine said, and raised her eyebrows.

‘Lots of nuts out there,’ Parker said.

‘Even so.’

On the bridge, even from this distance, they could hear the rumble of heavy trucks making the river crossing to Isola.

‘Well, you never know, I suppose,’ Geraldine said, thinking.

‘Yes?’ Parker said.

‘But there was this one boy

‘Yes?’

‘… had a terrible crush on her. What was his name again?’

The detectives waited.

‘I remember one night… at Our Lady of Grace… they used to have these Friday night dances at the church, they were very popular, used to draw a big crowd. This boy used to follow Alicia around like a lost puppy, panting at her heels… well, she was really quite beautiful, you know, I can’t say I blamed him, what was his name?

‘Anyway, this one Friday night… they had the dances in this huge recreation hall at the church, you know… well, it seemed huge to me, I was only thirteen. We would sit on these wooden chairs lined up against the wall, waiting for boys to ask us to dance. I have to tell you, nobody in Alicia’s crowd had to wait very long. I don’t want to sound conceited, but we were the most popular girls at Mercer, and later at Harding. The boys flocked around us like bees to honey. That sounds terrible, I know, but it’s true.

‘This one Friday night… this boy who everybody said had tendencies, you know what I mean? Like he, uh, walked light, you know what I mean?’

She was suddenly a teenager again.

And not a very nice one, they realized.

Smiling now, remembering, she told of how this boy with tendencies came walking across the entire long length of this huge recreation hall, and stopped in front of where Alicia and she were laughing at something one of them had just said…

‘She was wearing a yellow dress, I remember, ruffled, short to show off her legs, she had terrific legs, well, listen, she was just a terrific girl…

‘… and he asked her to dance… what was his name, I can’t imagine what’s wrong with my memory these days! Held out his hand to her. “Would you care to dance?” he said, such a wuss. Alicia looked up at him. Ray Charles was on the record player, I remember now. Looked him dead in the eye. Said, “Get lost, faggot.” Which he deserved. I mean, everybody said he was.

‘He just turned and walked away. But you should have seen the look on his face. If looks could kill

Geraldine shook her head.

‘Walked that whole long distance back across the rec hall again, went out the door, and out of the church for all I know. Never followed Alicia around again, you can bet on that. Never. I wonder whatever happened to him. Such a wuss. I can’t even remember his name.’

‘Mrs. Jennings,’ Parker said, ‘try to remember his name.’

‘Chuck Something?’ she said.

9.

THE DEPARTMENT of Veterans Affairs provided a list of local Vietnam vets who’d served in either D Company (or perhaps B Company, depending on which relative you believed) of the 2nd Brigade of the 25th