something new. Posner called. He wants to speak to both of them. Has something important to say, but wants them all to meet at the house. His house in Amagansett.
“I thought he was sedated and in the hospital.”
“He was, but won’t take any more pills. He sounded pretty lucid considering everything that’s gone down. Insists he needs to talk to us. He specifically mentioned that he wants you there. Seems like a man who desperately needs to get something off his chest, even if part of him is falling apart. I spoke to the doctor who confirms he’s okay to travel, at least physically.”
“When?”
“As soon as we can all get there. He’s still in Southampton Hospital. I’ll pick him up and meet you at his house.”
“Okay. I’m on the way. Right now I can’t do anything more here.”
Southampton Hospital has no formal psychiatric ward, or other comparable isolation area, so Posner is placed in a private intensive-care room as soon as he arrives, which is about six that evening. Sedation does little to halt his spasms of grief. At first he cannotbelieve what’s happened. He lies in bed and asks over and over for Sara. A doctor checks the laceration on his scalp and pronounces it minor. Nurses enter and leave. One shakes her head and disappears without comment, yet he knows. Bit by bit he remembers and knows she’s gone. The crying then begins with hysterical ferocity, yet after a few hours the worst passes. He is left with nothing except an overwhelming emptiness, a numbness he feels will never pass.
He declines an offer to speak with a local clergyman, but allows a staff psychologist a few minutes. It helps a bit and he begins to calm. He’s told that the police wish to speak with him and agrees to meet with them early the next day.
At seven the next morning Detective Bennett and Detective Cooper from the County police together with a stenographer come to sit with him. He has declined any more tranquilizers, yet fights to put aside what happened. He begins to speak, but his recall is interrupted more than once by convulsive sobs. He can’t help himself. He manages to tell them about the confrontation and Stern’s threat to kill him. He describes the fight, but only speaks minimally of the part when Stern runs out and Sara dies. He omits the period where he tells Stern about finding a dead Heidi and burying her. It is as if that part never happened.
After they leave, he realizes it’s still not enough. He can’t roll back time. He needs to tell a different story. Sara is gone. His mind gains a renewed clarity. He has to punish Stern. Otherwise nothing would have happened. It’s the only way to preserve Sara’s memory and what they would have had together. That’s all he has left. He could never admit now that he disposed of Heidi’s body. That might detract from Stern’s guilt and he needs to make sure they know Stern killed Heidi.
He sees how it must have happened. Stern watched Heidi board the bus in the city and followed it to the East End of Long Island. He parked in East Hampton and trailed her as she walked around the village until she entered my car. He saw them go into the house. He waited outside while his mind imagined the worst, and then when he saw me leave, he entered the house. He killed Heidi and left with thebodybefore I returned. Yes. That’s how it happened. There was no accident.
He needs to talk to the police again. He’ll tell them he knows where Stern buried her. They’ll believe him. Why not? And it’s all for Sara, isn’t it? He calls for a nurse and asks her to send Bennett a message.
Bennett picks up Posner from the hospital shortly before noon the next day. Sara Posner has been dead for less than twenty-four hours. Posner wears the same clothes he had on from the day before. The hospital identification band still circles his left wrist. He’s neither shaved nor tried to comb his hair. He sits in the backseat and says nothing, nor does Bennett speak to him after the car pulls out. Detective Cooper from County sits in the front alongside Bennett. They drive for twenty minutes in silence except for Posner’s periodic whimpering spurts.
Wisdom meets them at the front step. He has been there for some time. A uniform has already cut the yellow crime-scene tape and removed the door seal. Wisdom goes in first, together with Cooper, and they both move up the stairs. At the top, Wisdom turns and sees Posner and Bennett as they stand just inside the front door. Posner starts to talk, but his speech is fragmented and disjointed to the point where Wisdom thinks the man is about to unravel in front of his eyes. He is almost afraid to watch as Posner stands in the spot where his wife died and begins mumbling bits of incoherence.
“Everything’s here. Right here. At this place. In this spot. Everything. Right here. Here.”
Posner stops abruptly. Shoulders begin to heave just before his body explodes into sobs.
More than a minute passes before Bennett helps him up the steps. They sit on facing couches with Bennett alongside Posner. More time passes and Wisdom watches as Posner’s grief shifts to a gentle weeping. He is a step closer to calm. Bennett offers a glass of water, but Posner points to an open bottle of Merlot on the credenza. Bennett pours him a generous glassful. Posner drinks avidly, and then turns slightly so that he can see all three men. He sniffles twice and begins to speak. His voice is surprisingly clear, but the pain is there, carved into his features. Wisdom and Bennett make quick eye contact. Cooper barely blinks. Such pain never dissipates quickly, if ever. They’ve all seen it before.
“At first I didn’t want to get him, I mean Stern, in trouble. I didn’t tell you the whole truth about that day I saw the blue car following me when I drove to Montauk village.”
“What happened?” Cooper does the talking. Bennett listens and Wisdom has his notepad ready.
“After the blue car went past me, I followed it beyond the village until it turned off.”
“Where was that?”
“At the Montauk Overlook. When I got there, he had just left the car and was walking into the woods. I slowed down enough to see him stop by a bent sand pine. Then I drove off quickly without stopping again, but I’m pretty sure it was him. Stern.”
“Can you show us the spot? I mean, right now.” Bennett’s tone shows his own concern.
Posner nods. Wisdom guesses that if the man tries to speak anymore, his voice might dissolve into inaudibility. Wisdom calls ahead to have backup meet them at the traffic circle in Montauk village. Cooper uses his cell and confirms that County will send two more of their own cars.
Wisdom has a strong hunch. Despite the man’s instability, he’s convinced Stern hasn’t run away. He feels that Stern is somehow compelled to bring Brigid to the spot where he buried Heidi, perhaps as an act of confession, but who knows what someone in his mental state might do. Wisdom’s intuition is well respected and he convinces Bennett and Cooper that Stern and Brigid might be there. All he can do now is hope that he’s right, and that she’s still okay by the time they arrive.
CHAPTER 28
They sit in the parked car and she decides to lie, or at least say what she thinks Heidi would say, or more to the point, what Stern would like to hear her say. Stern seems to be warming to the prospect of hearing good words about himself from Heidi. Brigid looks over at him as he leans against the driver-side window. He appears like a beaten man. He’s actually quite handsome if he were to shave off his stubble and comb his hair. She could see why Heidi would have been attracted to him. Still, he does look trampled in some way. Flattened by sad events and unfilled needs; a duo she knows intimately. He looks as if he needs sleep and confirms this as he yawns without stop and rubs at his eyes. She’s also tired. It’s time for her to deliver and hope it’s enough to calm his baser instincts.
“Everything I know about you came from her letters. You understand that?”
“Yes. Do you have any with you?”
“Sorry. I don’t. Actually I’m not sure I’ve even kept them back home.”
“Where is home? In Vienna?”
“Oh, no. I live in Geneva and have for several years now. First in school and for the last six years at the United Nations.”
“I didn’t even know Heidi had a sister.”
Brigid shrugs her shoulders.
“Maybe she didn’t want you to know. Maybe she was afraid you might become interested in me.”
Brigid smiles and allows the words to hover above them. She’s using Heidi in some posthumous way to get
