looking Spanish broad.”
“You know this for sure?” Tully asked. “That staying out of the sack was his idea?”
Shell extended his arms, palms up, as if to say, what other explanation makes sense. “Fits his profile.”
“So,” Tully concluded, “the simple answer to my question is no.”
“Not exactly.”
“What?”
“It wasn’t a physical affair. I’m convinced they never had intercourse … not even close. But they had-a what? — a spiritual affair.”
“Huh?”
Shell unwrapped a second candy bar and bit into it. “I can’t explain it. I’ve never seen anything like it. The guy could have had her, easy. She was bananas for him. He could have, but he didn’t.
“The way I see it, he just wouldn’t compromise his future. Must have taken a lot not to accept what he was freely offered. I’ll give the bastard that. But then, see, she changed. It was something like that character in
“Not that Maria was a whore, you know. But what I mean, she changed. Oh, she was willing to throw herself at him. But he’s Don Quixote. He’s going to teach her how to love ‘pure and chaste from afar.’ Okay, so she becomes Dulcinea … and I lost my Maria.”
“You mean-”
“I told you our relationship was on thin ice. Sex for me was like making love to a board. Well, Maria took the board away and left me nothing. Nothing”
No one spoke.
“As far as I know,” Shell said finally, “I’m the only guy in history to have been cuckolded by a couple of practicing virgins.”
Mangiapane barely suppressed a burst of laughter. Tully, with some effort, kept a straight face.
Shell, who was quite serious, continued. “Now, what the hell could I do about it? How could I say Diego was guilty of alienation of affection? He didn’t do anything except mesmerize her. She didn’t do anything but fall under his spell. The upshot of the whole thing was I lost my wife. I lost her to a goddam bishop. And there wasn’t a goddam thing I could do about it.
“It was awful. We’d be together, say at dinner, and she wouldn’t say anything-nothin’-just answer questions. With one word-the fewest possible syllables. She began sleeping in the guest room.
“I was going nuts.
“What happened next reminds me of a story.…” Shell smiled briefly. “Seems this doctor-a surgeon-was on trial for using abusive and obscene language. Trying to explain his side of it, he says to the Judge, ‘You see, Your Honor, on the day in question, I woke up about eight o’clock. The alarm didn’t go off. I was scheduled for extremely delicate surgery at 9:00. So I tried to hurry. Naturally, I cut myself shaving. I started breakfast before I took my shower. There wasn’t any hot water. After the cold shower, I found I’d set the microwave for too long and burned everything. In my haste to get dressed, I ripped the trousers of my suit. The car wouldn’t start. I lost two taxi rides when people pushed me aside so they could take the cabs. I was nearly an hour late by the time I got to the hospital. The elevator that took me to the OR stopped just a few inches short of the floor. I tripped on my way out. I fell flat on my face and broke the glasses I needed to perform the operation.
“‘At that point, a nurse came up to me and said, “Doctor, we just received a shipment of a thousand rectal thermometers. What do you want me to do with them?”’”
The two detectives couldn’t help but laugh.
“Funny,” Tully said after a minute, “but what’s that got to do with you?”
“Just remember,” Shell said, “how completely frustrated I was. For all practical purposes, I had lost my wife. It was like being with the living dead. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. And I owed it all to this son-of- a-bitch bishop.
“That’s exactly the state of mind I was in when I walked into Carson’s house and saw the bastard standing there in the middle of a bunch of fawning sycophants. There he stood like Cock Robin in his black and red robes. I never even met him before. Just saw his picture in the papers, caught him a few times on TV. This was the first goddam time I was ever in the same room with the bastard.
“So it was like when the nurse asked what to do with all those damn thermometers. I blew it. I blew my stack.”
“Were you going to hit him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Carson stepped in before anything could happen.”
“Then Carson got you and the bishop to go to another room together. So then what?”
“I kept at it. I called him everything I could think of. I told him to stay the hell away from my wife-even though I knew it was too late to do any good. Then I made some idle threats-like anybody in my position would’ve done.”
“How did the bishop react?”
“Completely on the defensive. He didn’t say a word. First his complexion matched his red robes. Then he got real pale. That was when I knew I’d reached him. About that time he muttered a few excuses and beat it.”
“And then …?”
“I was too worked up to remember what Carson said to me. Something about telling me to leave in no uncertain terms … that I had wrecked his party.”
“And then
“I left.”
“And then …?”
“And then I didn’t kill him.”
After a short silence, Tully spoke again. “So what did you do then? Where did you go?”
“The boy got my car.” Shell snorted. “Hell, the motor hadn’t had time to cool. I must’ve set some kind of world’s record for the briefest time spent at a party. Oh, I didn’t mind being asked to leave.” He grinned lopsidedly. “I’ve been thrown out of better places than that.
“But I was still steaming. So I forced myself to park for a while to cool off. I didn’t want to add an auto accident to all the rest of my misery.
“When I felt a little less like tearing Diego limb from limb, I started out Jefferson. I wasn’t heading anywhere in particular. I ended up in a bar in St. Clair Shores … what the hell is the name of the place … uh … I’ve never been there before. It’s around Nine Mile and Mack … uh … The Lazy Dolphin. Yeah, that was it.”
“What time would that have been?”
“Geez, I don’t know. That’s where I went from Carson’s house, driving slow … I guess maybe 3:00, 3:30.”
“How long were you there?”
“A couple of hours … about 5:30 maybe.”
“Would anybody remember your being there between those hours?”
“Uh … I don’t know.… I don’t think so.”
“You were there two hours and no one can attest to that?”
“The bar was crowded. I don’t know … maybe the bartender.”
“We’ll check that out”
“Am I still a suspect?”
“Who said you were a suspect?”
Shell smiled. “I’ve been in court a few times. I’d say someone who gets into a violent argument with somebody and that somebody gets killed later on the same day, I’d say the police might get a little suspicious. Might even come over to the guy’s law office asking questions.”
“Just checking things out, Mr. Shell.
“Thanks for your time.”
Mangiapane, who had been taking notes throughout the session, slid into the driver’s seat. Tully spent a few moments taking in the atmosphere before entering the passenger seat.
