Rita did not feel like working today. She felt more like crying, but she had a job to do. Still, she didn't want to face Joe or Frank. Frank was an idiot, but Joe would see through her in an instant. He was sharp. No, she would go see Mrs. Wilkes. Rita started to feel some passion toward someone who lied to her. Yes, she was beginning to feel better already.
Mrs. Wilkes answered the door on the second knock. "Detective Rawlins please come in. I have wanted to talk to you."
As much as Rita wanted to take the offensive, she said, "Alright, what can I do for you."
Rose inhaled deeply and slowly let the air out before continuing. "I am afraid I lied to you, and I am terribly sorry about that. I didn't mean to lie, but I didn't know how or what to tell you."
"Try the truth," Rita said.
"Yes, I suppose that would be good, but I'm afraid it is a long story."
"I have time; go on."
Rose looked up. "Alright. I need to start when I am about three years old. My daddy left my mom and me. He was here and then he wasn't. I guess lots of kids lose their fathers.
"My mom didn't work. I mean, she worked odd jobs, cleaning someone's house, or sewing a dress, walking dogs, little stuff you know. We didn't have much money, but we always had food on the table and the bills paid. It was when I was about eleven or twelve that I discovered a bank envelope with over six hundred dollars in it. I wondered where that much money came from and why in cash? I asked my mother, and she told me this story.
"It was right after my dad left when the money started coming twice a month. In the beginning, there might only be a hundred or so. As I got older, the amounts grew to where there might be a thousand dollars a time. Other times less."
"How did the envelopes come?" Rita asked.
"I asked my mom that, and she said, 'Sometimes in the mail.' Sometimes in the mailbox unstamped, still other times from a delivery man."
"When I was seventeen, Mom got sick. They were treating her at the hospital, but we had no insurance and one day I got a call from this doctor who said he would have to discharge my mother because she couldn't pay and the bill was so large. I didn't know what to do. We all knew Mom was dying and we have no other family, but how could I care for her here and still attend school and with what money?"
"What happened?" Rita asked.
"That night I got a call from the same doctor who said he made a mistake and nothing was due. I asked how and he said the hospital told him the account had a zero balance and that was all he knew. It bothered me all night, and in the morning I went to the hospital and asked them how these bills got paid? The billing people said that the doctor had explained to them that all the bills were paid. They didn't know how, but I could ask the doctor. So I did. All the doctor would say is the hospital would have records and to ask them. I did and got the same story. My mom died four weeks later, and I never got a bill from the hospital, not even for an aspirin."
"How does this apply to me?" Rita wanted to know.
"It's coming, I promise. I told you it was a long story. After my mother died, I was a wreck. I managed to graduate from high school. The envelopes with the money still came twice a month."
"Did you ever find out where the envelopes came from?"
Rose was quiet for a moment. "Oh, you mean from whom. No, I asked my mother once, and she said, 'Don't question it because maybe the envelopes would stop if I did.' I asked her if it was my father, and she burst out laughing and said that would be the day your father ever did anything respectable. After that, I never asked again. I wanted to believe my father loved me, so I would fantasize he was the one sending the money."
Rita was getting antsy.
"Please be patient. I am almost there. I have never told a soul about any of this. You are the only one who knows."
"Not your husband?"
"Especially not my husband," Rose said emphatically.
"Where was I? Oh yes, I wanted to believe it was my father when I was younger. After graduation, I wanted to go to college. The money was almost enough, so I got a job and started community college.
"It was about a year in when the money stopped. Only for a short time, three weeks maybe, but it was long enough for me to understand that I had become dependent on it like alcohol to an alcoholic or cocaine to a drug addict. I vowed then I would never touch the money again.
"The next week, I got a safe deposit box and started putting the money there. I made sure I had only hundreds, and I got wraps from a different bank and counted and wrapped the bills. I met Dave about a year later, and I don't know I suppose I didn't trust him. The money was my safety net, and I didn't want anyone else to know about it. I never told him, and he never saw an envelope.
"When he started beating me, I would dream of taking the money and disappearing. I think having that money stashed away kept me sane. I am sorry for lying to you when you asked, but I needed to get myself together and think about what I wanted to do.
"I did try to find out who was sending it once. Two times the envelopes came from the same post office. No return address but the same post office. I hired a private investigator, Mr. Carry, to search for me. He went and asked around and found out that the envelope came in a larger envelope addressed to the Post Master of that office with instructions to mail the letter upon receipt. The correct postage was on the letter, so he did send it along like asked.
"He didn't have the outer packaging any longer. He said he would call Mr. Carry if any more came in, but none ever did. I have received the envelopes from the post office, UPS, Fed EX, private courier, and straight out of the mailbox, unstamped. I suppose, in theory, one of the delivery people could be the one who has been sending them. I stopped guessing long ago. That's the truth detective."
"I believe you. Do you have an idea of how much is in the box?"
"Yes. Right around two hundred and eighty thousand dollars," Rose said.
"Wow. All in cash?" Rita said.
"Yes. I hope that is alright?"
"If all you told me is true, you have broken no law that I know. It's your money. How you keep it is your business," Rita answered. "Why are you selling the house? I saw the sign out front. The yard looks great by the way."
"Thanks." Rose looked down at her folded hands and said, "This house belonged to my grandparents, and I had wonderful memories here, but Dave spoiled that for me. I think a fresh start somewhere would be good for me. I never finished college and who knows maybe I will go back. I don't owe anything on the house so I should be OK for a while. Do you think that is a good idea, detective?"
Rita was silent, looking at Rose she said, "Yes. I think that would be good for you. A fresh start can be good for the soul." As Rita moved towards the door, she wondered if she were talking to Rose or herself?
Rita hesitated at the door wondering if she should ask the questions on her mind. Finally giving in she asked, "Mrs. Wilkes, the day we came and told you about Dave being killed you knew he was shot. How did you know?"
"I just assumed anyone who robs a bank would have a gun, and I knew Dave carried one. He used to threaten me with it all the time."
"I see. And did you know Mr. Wilkes gambled and owed a lot of money?"
"Sort of. I didn't know how much he owed but I knew he gambled. Especially on the horses. We never had any extra money and I know gambling and being broke go hand in hand. Why do you ask?"
"Just tying up loose ends, that's all."
"Do you know who killed him?" Rose asked.
"No. We don't but we are still looking."
"Is it bad that I don't care?" Rose asked, quietly.
Rita smiled. "No. I don't think so. Goodbye Mrs. Wilkes."
"Goodbye Detective."
Turning back, Rita said, "Mrs. Wilkes, my hearing is terrible, and I am afraid I never heard a word you said about the box or its contents. Perhaps someday you will inform me as to what happened to whatever was in that safe deposit box?"
Rose smiled and hugged Rita. "Thank you."
"The best of luck to you," Rita said as she was leaving. A fresh start sounded like a good idea.
Rita had that strange feeling again. She felt watched. The hairs on her neck bristled. Looking down the street, she caught the tail end of a dirty red car turning right.
<><><><><><><><><><>
Rita got back to her office a little before twelve to find Joe's note. Mike Craig called, and Joe was heading out to see him. There was a meeting address, and Rita considered going but knew Joe would handle everything without her. Rita closed her eyes and sat back in her chair to think.
They had two people who had access to the type of Mercury used on the victim. The robbery appeared to be a diversion. But for what? And why?
Rose has been getting money for most of her life but did that mean anything? And was anyone connected with this case capable of doing something like that? Certainly not Mike. He didn't have a pot to piss in. Professor Wright would have the means but didn't fit the profile.
Same with Thomas Kinkade or Cade Thomas or whatever his name was.
A strange thought was coming into the back of her mind, but she couldn't bring it into focus yet. Rita's phone chirped, bringing her back to reality. "Yeah."
"Hi, Rita." It was Joe. "I just got done with Mike, and he is clean. A jerk but he didn't know Dave was involved with his cousin. To repeat his words if he had known, he would have killed him long ago and not staged something in a bank. I believe him. We know he didn't do the bank job, and he isn't smart enough to plan it. To have a hand in getting the Mercury maybe, but that will be next to impossible to prove."
"Figures. I agree with you that he couldn't plan anything. Mrs. Wilkes came clean about the safe deposit box. She's clean as well."
"What's in the box?" Joe asked.
"I can fill you in later but nothing we have to worry about," Rita said. "Has Frank been able to tie anything to Ollie?"
Joe heard the informality with the name but chose not to say anything, "No. So far, nothing ties Mr. Oliver to anyone or the heist. Frank can't tie any of the others together either. If either Mike or the professor took part in getting the mercury, we can't prove it."
"That's what I found as well. So where are we?" Rita asked.
"We got a stiff who by all reports deserved to get shot and more. A bank out a little money. Four families with dead or missing daughters tied to the dead guy and one mystery man in the center but invisible all the same. So basically nowhere." Joe said.
"Yeah. Listen, take the rest of the day off and see me in the morning. I think I am getting close to closing this case or at least moving on to something else. Thanks, Joe."
"You're the boss, Miss. Rita," Joe said, laughing. "See you tomorrow."
"Smart ass." Rita could still hear Joe laughing as she disconnected.
"Screw it," Rita said to herself. "Tomorrow is anew day, but today I am going out for ice cream."