“You didn’t hear shoes in the hall?” he asked. “Hell, his TV’s still on down the other end. He must’ve gone to the kitchen some time.”
“Nothing.” Stuckey looked up from the chair. “And I was awake the whole time, James said no sleeping. I was drinking ginseng tea all night.”
“Ginseng.” Buddy shook his head. “I don’t know, Dennis. They’re droppin’ like flies on your watch.”
“I can’t help it if somebody wants to off himself.” Stuckey was seated in one of the rocking easy chairs that faced the set in Mrs. Fenton’s TV room. Still fixed on the screen was the scene in The Empire Strikes Back where robot fighting machines advance across a frozen plain. Mrs. Fenton’s bedroom was connected, the door closed. She was asleep with Pinky.
Voices sounded down the hall. Buddy stuck his head out and saw James Rivera had arrived. He was in the foyer, talking to the morning nurse and one of the detectives.
The nurse now turned away and entered the living room. Grim-faced, Rivera came down the hall. “You’re gonna have to go to spot commercials pretty soon,” Buddy called. “This is taking a chunk out of your customer base.”
“It’s not funny, officer.” Rivera stopped in front of Buddy. “Give us a break, okay? We certainly don’t need our name in the paper again. I was out fishing. Ray called my cell.”
Buddy stood aside and followed. Rivera stepped in front of Stuckey.
“Where were you, Dennis?”
“Bossman, come on.” Stuckey looked up from the chair. “You saw me, we came together. I was right here like you told me. Every minute.”
Rivera sat down in the other chair as Sergeant Buddy folded up the hide-a-bed Stuckey had opened for Mrs. Fenton to sleep on. Buddy sat, and Rivera turned to him. “I knew Mr. B was depressed,” Rivera said. “We were on the boat Saturday. He did some drinking.”
“Heavy?”
“Some beer with lunch. Two or three vodka tonics later. Not a lot, but at that age the metabolism slows down.” As he spoke, Stuckey began rocking in his chair. He looked away and stared at the image freeze-framed on the screen.
“You say he was depressed,” Buddy said.
“He talked on the boat, but I didn’t understand. It was something financial.” Buddy said “shit” under his breath, and Rivera shrugged. “All I know is, his wife tied up her estate with legal details. Mr. B wanted control but couldn’t get it. Something in her will meant he had to stay here with Mrs. Fenton. You can check that with the lawyer.”
“Control,” Buddy said. “Sort of like Stuckey here.” They both looked at the attendant. He had the VCR remote in his lap and had silently resumed watching the movie. “So,” Buddy said turning back, “you’re on the boat.”
“All day Saturday. Until about eight.”
“Why’d you come back here last night?”
“To drop Dennis and make sure he understood what to do.” Now Stuckey looked over. “I’m sorry,” Rivera said. “It’s not your fault, but this is no good. I’m giving you two weeks’ notice. You can do filing in the office or shop for people for the two weeks, but no more contact with clients.”
Hands on the chair arms, Stuckey stopped rocking as laser beams raked across the TV screen. “You’re shit-canning me for this?” he said.
“I don’t have a choice.” Rivera turned to the officer. “If you keep filing police reports with our name, we’ll go out of business.”
Buddy considered it a moment. “Somebody drowns on Friday, somebody else hangs Sunday,” he said. “Bad for business. Now, let’s see. Last night, you brought Stuckey to spell the nurse. You dropped him off, then you took off.”
“Not right away. We came in, the nurse left, then Dennis took over.”
“Everything I was supposed to do I was doing,” Stuckey said. Sullen now, he was back to watching with the sound off. “What am I supposed to do? Carry her around and check rooms to see if anyone hung himself?”
“I always say hello,” Rivera said. “I went down, he was in the home theater.”
“What was on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hell, the screen’s eight feet tall. You were there.”
“I didn’t pay attention, sir. He was talking about his wife’s will. He was very upset.”
“How long were you there?”
“Five or six minutes. It would be on the surveillance tape in the garage.” Rivera snapped his fingers and shook his head. “No, that’s wrong. The cameras aren’t yet hooked up.”
“So, this is about eight, then you left.”
“More or less.”
Sergeant Buddy considered it. “Then you drove home?”
“No, sir,” Rivera said. “I went to the Bellissima. To take down the Haileys’ Christmas tree. I was there about an hour and a half, Mrs. Hailey filled out a time sheet. Then I drove to Donegal to collect equipment at the Ivy house. This was about eleven or eleven-thirty. Then I drove to Immokalee. I stopped off at El Lucero for a Coke.”
“That’s a bar in Immokalee?”
“On Boston, just off Main.”
“So you were seen there, too.”
“I was there about thirty minutes,” Rivera said. “Then I went home.”
“Anything on the tube?”
“On the tube? I don’t understand.”
“On TV,” Buddy said. “You mean there’s no set in the bar, or you didn’t watch?”
“On the picture tube, I get it,” Rivera said. “They have TVs inside, but I was outside in back. At a picnic table.”
“I bet Stuckey would’ve been inside watching,” Buddy said. The attendant didn’t look over. He was rocking again, still sullen.
◆◆◆◆◆
They repeated it all for the detectives. An hour later, Stuckey, looking more resigned now than sullen, waited as Rivera stepped into the elevator. The doors closed, and the car started down.
“Anyway, I got a retirement watch,” he said.
“So, you caught it.” Stuckey didn’t answer. That meant the colander had worked. He had brought one with him, along with the movies. At some point during the night, Dennis had defecated into
