NOT WITH A BANG
Chapter 10 May I Help You?
Life goes on. Grace may still be missing, and Arcadia may have been the scene of two lurid crimes in a week, but Joan still had a bookstore to run.
The store had recently been reorganized on a High-Tech theme, and it seemed to have caught on. Luke and the Friedmann couple had talked it up with their friends. And Joan had actually been promoted to a semi-management position for thinking up the idea. But she had missed one day of work in the previous week due to the fight at school, and she needed to make up for that.
And she had managed to keep her current Mission moving as well. When Luke wouldn't cooperate and look up the name on the tombstone, she turned to her older brother. Kevin was not a computer whiz, but given a name and a year-of-death he ought to be able to find the obituary in his newspaper files. Just before she left school for work, he called her on her cell phone.
"Found her. Mary Warren, died October 1, 2004, in a house fire."
"That's terrible."
"There's worse. There were some notes attached to the obituary, things too uncertain to put in the final write-up. Some people think the fire was deliberate, to punish her for reporting somebody to the police."
"Ugh."
"Mind telling me why you're interested in a cold case?"
"Umm---" Joan hadn't thought up a good excuse.
"Right. Well, gotta get back to work. See you this weekend. Click" There were advantages to being thought crazy. People didn't expect you to make sense.
The door rang a few minutes after her arrival, and Joan went to greet the customer. Before she could even see his face--
"You!" he cried.
It was Manny from the cemetery.
"Yes, it's me. Joan Girardi. I help manage this bookstore. May I help you?" So I got another chance with this guy. Try to be professional, but at the same time try to create a bond.
"I hear there's a story about a guy who went to hell -- not a punishment, I mean, but a sort of tourist."
"Dante's Inferno?"
"Yeah."
Joan withdrew into the stacks, and looked for the classic. There were a number of translations , ranging from Longfellow to the mystery writer Dorothy Sayers. She picked up one copy and the two volumes next to it. When she got back to the front, she found him seated. Good. If she could keep him there--
"It's not just one book, you know," she said. "There are also stories about Dante visiting Purgatory and Paradise."
"I'm just interested in the first one," he said curtly.
Gotta keep him talking, by keeping up the chatter on my end. He may think I'm a ditz, but that won't be for the first time, and no harm done. "If you've lost a loved one, you might prefer reading about heaven."
He looked up sharply. "What makes you think -- oh, the cemetery visit." He relaxed. "I don't need a book. I know Mary's in heaven, if there's any justice in the world. No, not the world, the universe. The world's pretty messed up."
"I'm sure it seems that way sometimes," Joan said noncommittally. "Was Mary a relative?"
"Coworker. She and I worked together at an old fast-food place. But that folded, and I went to Iraq for a term in the Army. When I got back, I tried to look her up, and found that some bastards had murdered her." He did a double-take. "Excuse my language. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this."
"It's all right."
But the outburst seemed to have worried him, and he focussed on his copy of Inferno, reading silently.
Joan thought she saw her mission getting clearer. There was a parallel between them; both had had friends murdered. But Joan had found peace, while Manny was still bitter Maybe she was supposed to bring him consolation. But she had to keep him talking for that.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" she chirped, trying to look like the eager young clerk.
He looked up with annoyance, then seemed to think. "There's an old poem. Starts off "Once to every man and nation'. Don't know who wrote it or anything. Can you find a copy? "
"Sure." Her company had set up a Quotations Database precisely for situations like this. Joan sat at the terminal and typed in the line. "Got it. James Russell Lowell. Poem's called 'The Present Crisis'. Here's a book that includes it: CIVIL WAR POETRY." She got the book off the shelf and brought it to him. He thanked her, then seemed to tune her out altogether as he looked in the index.
She made one more try, still in the guise of the overeager shop girl.
"If you could give me your full name and address, we could add you to our list of preferred customers."
Once more that annoyed response followed by self-control. "No need. I'm leaving town as soon as I can. There's nothing for me here. I had a job at City Hall, but that's gone now."
"Government still goes on, even if the building's not there."
"Not in my case. I was on the building's maintenance staff."
"Oh."
"The police ordered us to stay around while they interviewed everybody. Once that's done, I'm outa here. How much for the books?"
Joan clicked on the books at her register, somewhat sad at having to charge a guy that showed literary curiosity but had no job. As he started out the door, she made one more try, dropping all pretense of being a mere clerk.
"Manny, if you want to talk, just come back and I'll listen."
He stared. "Thanks. But I don't want to inflict all my problems on a nice girl like you. Goodbye."
He went out. Joan went back in the storeroom, found a second copy of CIVIL WAR POETRY, and turned to the poem
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight,
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right,
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
Wow, powerful stuff, but a little overwrought from Joan's point of view, with her experience. Judith had made all the wrong choices in life, yet God had been good to her. He put up with hesitancies and complaints from Joan, and apparently did not mind Luke's current refusal to cooperate. On the other hand, back during a Civil War in which a pack of vile slave-traders were trying to tear a nation apart, stronger stuff may have been needed.
The door rang and more customers came in. This was, after all, a successful store now. But none of the visitors had the effect on her that the first one did.
Around 9:00 the phone rang, and Joan picked it up. "The Book Site."
"This is your Dad. You shift's about to end, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'm coming to pick you up."
"I can catch the bus as usual."
"I don't want you to do that -- not in a week with two serious acts of violence. Just wait safe indoors until I come."
Violence aside, it would be cold waiting for a bus on a January night, so Joan wasn't complaining. Besides, it would give her a chance to pump Dad for information.
-------
"Dad, have you guys been interviewing a guy named Manny?"
"Manny Keys. Yes. How did you know?"
"He shopped at my store and mentioned the police. What can you tell me about him?"
"Joan, when people talk to police, they're compelled to give unpleasant information to us, for the sake of solving a crime. We owe it to them to keep it in confidence."
"I just wanted to help him. He seemed unhappy."
"Well, all right. He was a soldier in Iraq, discharged about four months ago, and he came back to Arcadia. Had trouble holding jobs; apparently some disciplinary problems. Somebody in City Hall decided that returning veterans deserved more support, so they offered him a position on the maintenance staff about a month ago. I interviewed him because we know the bomb was concealed the bombs in janitor's closets, and I hoped maintenance people could tell me the last times the closets had been checked."
"To establish the probable time for planting the bombs, I see," said Joan. "So he's not a suspect?"
"No reason to single him out. But, Joan, his job problems seem to stretch back to something overseas in Iraq. It's noble for you to try and help him, but I don't know how much you can help with simple tea and sympathy. You may find yourself in over your head."
"Maybe." On the other hand I have a Friend who can hold my head above the water. It's worth a try.
TBC