“Did Valerie tell you why we moved from Chicago?” Wayne asked.
“Yes. She said you were offered a better job with a bigger salary and you took it. That resulted in her being apart from her Chicago friends.”
“That’s not what happened,” Wayne said, the frustration clear in his voice. “I am a branch manager for Merrill Lynch. The branch office I ran was shut in a consolidation. I was offered a better position in Manhattan and I had to give them an answer right away.” Looking at his wife, he said, “We agreed I should accept it.”
Aline said, “One of the things that puzzles me is that when Valerie came to Saddle River last January, at least marks wise she got off to a good start. But something changed in the spring. Do you have any idea what that might have been?”
Marina said, “Last May her paternal grandmother had a stroke and passed away. Valerie had stayed very close to her after her father died.”
“For a young person, she has experienced a great deal of loss,” Aline said. “Have you considered having her see a psychiatrist?”
“Of course, we have,” Marina said. “Twice I tried to introduce the idea. Both times she got furious and upset. We decided it would do more harm than good to keep bringing that up.”
“As you probably know,” Aline said, “my sister Kerry died two weeks ago.”
Wayne interrupted. “We know, and we’re terribly sorry. We read about it in the papers.”
“Valerie told me that she considered Kerry to be her closest friend at this school. Did she ever tell you that?”
“No,” Marina said. “I know how shocked she was when Kerry died, but I thought she knew Kerry more as a teammate than a friend.”
“Apparently they were close. That makes yet another loss in your daughter’s life.”
“Then where do we go from here?” Wayne asked.
“I’m going to keep in close touch with Valerie and her teachers. I’ll monitor her progress and will keep both of you informed. Of course, if you notice any changes, let me know.”
As the Longs left the office, Aline was more concerned than ever about Valerie.
52
Father Frank knew that he must try to persuade Marge to share with the police what Jamie had told her. He understood Marge’s horror that the police might focus on Jamie as the killer. But it was not fair to have Alan on the verge of suicide when there was a witness who could exonerate him.
Father Frank had replayed the two conversations with Marge a dozen times in his mind. She had confided in him, which is very different from being in the state of sacrament. If she had asked him to hear her confession, his obligation to remain silent would have been absolute. But since she had merely confided in him, the sacrament of penance did not apply. If Marge would not do so, it was his obligation to share what he knew with the police.
• • •
After her conversation with Father Frank, Marge’s conscience continued to weigh heavily on her. She had asked Jamie twice over the past two days to repeat what he saw happen in Kerry’s yard before he went swimming with her. Both times he told the same story. “Alan kissed Kerry goodbye. Then he went home. Then the Big Guy hit Kerry and pushed her into the pool.” He added, “Daddy called me ‘the Big Guy.’ He’s in Heaven with Kerry.”
The idea that Alan was going through a living hell for something he didn’t do gnawed at Marge. That was why when she called Father Frank and he said he could come over, it was a relief. She had decided to discuss with him how to go about contacting the police.
The doorbell rang at three-thirty. Jamie had gone straight from work to watch the school teams practice. Marge was relieved that he would not be home when she spoke to Father Frank.
When she answered the bell, Father Frank followed her into the modest living room, which was scrupulously neat. She invited him to sit down and pointed at a large overstuffed chair that reminded him of the furniture in his grandmother’s house.
“That was Jack’s favorite chair,” Marge said. “After his grandmother died, Jack brought it home.”
“It’s very comfortable, Marge.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I’m talking about furniture because I’m too nervous to talk about the reason I asked you to come over.”
“Marge, I was planning to call you. I think I know what you want to talk about.”
“It’s not right for me to keep quiet while Alan Crowley is in so much trouble.”
Father Frank remained silent to allow her to continue.
Marge bit her lip. “Since I spoke to you, I have asked Jamie twice to tell me what he saw the night of Kerry’s party. Both times he repeated that Alan kissed Kerry and then went home.” She looked away as though gathering strength. “I know in my heart of hearts Jamie never would have hurt Kerry. I have to tell the police what I know.”
“Marge, you are making the right decision.” Father Frank tried to conceal the relief he felt that Marge had reached that conclusion on her own.
“Father, I don’t have any money. Obviously, neither does Jamie. I understand there are lawyers that will help people like us for free.”
“Do you mean public defenders?”
“Yes, if that’s what they call them. I’d like to speak to one now, before I talk to the police about Jamie.”
“Marge, from what I understand, it doesn’t work that way. They will make a public defender available to someone who has been accused of something. I don’t think they can help you before then.”
“I have ten thousand dollars in my savings account. Will that be enough for a lawyer?”
“Marge, I don’t know a lot about how much lawyers charge. I do know that one of our parishioners, Greg Barber, is a very good attorney.
