Death on the Calender Chapter Three

Chapter Three



  Sergeant Wilson took the wheel and we pulled into moderate traffic. Like all major cities, Indianapolis streets are plagued with one-ways. We turned on Meridian and caught green lights all the way out to I-465, that surrounds Circle City. Soon, we were headed for Noblesville, a bedroom town; its residents living in suburban refuge, and working in the city.

  " We'll need to limit our time interviewing  Greenwald ." Sergeant Wilson said as we cruised into town.

  " It shouldn't take too long." I said. " She was maybe ten years old at the time. I doubt if she has anything new to add."

  " After I report to Wainwright we'll head back to Masterson, and pick his brain again. Maybe he'll remember something since we last spoke."  I glanced over at him as we turned onto Greenwalds' street.

  Out of nowhere, a pick-up truck bolted out in front of us from a private drive. Sergeant Wilson slammed on the brakes, and the tires screamed in protest. We stopped inches away from the drivers' door. The driver, a young man who looked no more than twenty, stared  at us in total surprize. Sergeant Wilson glared at the young man as the pick-up pulled away.

  " Stupid ", He muttered shaking his head. " This world is filling up with dumbasses."

  We pulled into the Greenwalds' drive and got out. Sergeant Wilson rang the doorbell. The door opened and a petite gray headed woman stood there. She was wearing a teal dress and gracing her neck was a string of pearls. Sergeant Wilson and I produced our shields.

  " Mrs. Greenwald, I'm Detective Sergeant Wilson, and this is my partner, Detective Talbert. We're investigating your fathers' death."

  " I've been expecting you", She said, stepping back and motioning for us to enter.

  " Did sombody contact you from the station? " I asked.

  " Oh, no. I've been waiting to hear when the police were going to re-open my fathers' murder." She led us into the livingroom.

  The house was immaculate. Not a speck of dust was on any of the Hummell figurines lined along the fireplace mantle. The beige wall to wall carpet looked as if it was put down yesterday. The colonial styled furniture looked like it had never been used , and a big hooked rug took up most of the space around the grouping. A grandfather clock with a slow moving pendalum ticked softly in a corner. The front windows were garnished with light blue velvet drapes tastefully arranged. It had the feel of a set on a sound stage, and you expected a director to come out and yell 'Action'.

  " Can you tell us anything about that night, Mrs. Greenwald ?" Sergeant Wilson said as he eased into a chair.

  " Ida.....call me Ida...everyone does." She sat on the settee and I took a seat across from her.

  With her hands together, resting in her lap, and bowing her head as she reflected, she looked like she was praying. " I was eleven when it happened. There isn't much I can tell you. I spent the night at a friends' house, and came home to all those police cars. It's just a blur now. "

  " Who was the friend you stayed with that night? " Sergeant Wilson asked.

  " Molly Wentworth," She said. " Our back yards adjoined. We'd trade sleep overs back and forth all the time on week ends. "

  " Do you still keep in touch with her ?" I asked.

  " Not for some time. Molly got married and moved to Portland, Oregan back in nine-teen- seventy. " She said with a thin smile." I was her Maid of Honor. We wrote one another for awhile, and then the letters stopped coming. I didn't hear from her again until our ten year class reunion in nineteen-seventy eight. Isn't it funny how best friends in school just fade out of your life? We were like sisters back then, sharing secrets, laughing at the same jokes. "

  " Is there a last address she gave you? We'd really like to touch base with her. " Sergeant Wilson asked.

  " I can give you Sheila Gillespies' address. Sheila was valadictorian of our class, and heads up all our reunions. Maybe she might know where Molly is now." She rose from the settee and went to another room.

  She was back minutes later, carrying a tray of coffee cups and a steaming carafe.

  " I just made this coffee when you arrived." She said as she set it on the coffee table before us, and began pouring. The rich,delicious aroma wafted in my nostrals.

  I took the offered cup and sipped it.... pure ambrosia... Sergeant Wilson took a sip, and set his on the table.  " Did anyone else sleep over at Mollys' that night besides you? " he asked.

  " Now that you mention it, yes. Mollys' cousin from Michigan. I don't remember where exactly....Ann Arbor ?....." She shook her head dismssing it.

  " Do you remember the cousins' name? " I asked.

  " Donna..." , she said with finality." Yes, Donna Fullbright." Her eyes widened as another memory emerged. " And she lived in Birmingham, Michigan. I remember now."

  " Do you have Shiela Gillespies' address ? " I asked.

  Ida pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to me." Glad you said something. I'm getting forgetful about little things. "

  " Do you remember who was in the house when you came home ?" Sergeant Wilson asked as he picked up his coffee.

  " Thomas was there. "  She bent her head and thought a moment." Mom was in the kitchen when I came in. She was sitting at the bar, crying. I guess seeing her made me start to cry, too."

  " Anyone else?"

  Ida shook her head slightly." Not that I remember. I'm sorry if I'm not much help."

  " What ever happened to Thomas after your fathers death ? " My research on the Withers butler was sketchy at best. Masterson's notes were pretty vague.

  " Oh, he found another family to tend." She smiled." He really took care of us during that time. He died back in 1982...cancer, I think. "

  " Did he have any family, friends, anyone ? "

  " There was a nephew somewhere in Ireland. "

  " You wouldn't happen to remember the name of the family ? " I asked.

  " Yes, it was Butler. I remembered that because he was the Butlers butler. They lived over in Carmel. "

  " Is there anything you can remember about that morning you might not have told at the time? " Sergeant Wilson asked.

  " No. I'm sorry. I'm not much help am I ? "

  We both assured her she was very helpful, gave her our cards, and concluded the interview.



  On the way back we rehashed what was said. The Michigan cousin wasn't in any reports, which was something; but, thin at best. If she was with Ida and Molly the whole time, it was a dead end.

  " If we get done with the Captain in time, Wilson said. " We'll  pump Masterson about this Thomas guy. What was his last name ? "

  " Fletcher. " I answered, peeking at my notes.

  " If that Butler family is still around maybe they can help locate his nephew."

  And miles to go before I sleep, I thought.