“The nosy-parker?”
“That’s her.”
“Shouldn’t you leave it for the cops?”
“If she’s seen anything, I’ll tell them to talk to her.”
“Doesn’t seem likely, she was at the funeral with us.”
“I still want to talk to her. Maybe she saw something before.”
“Guys casing the joint?”
“Maybe.”
I didn’t need to knock on her door; she was at her usual post at the end of the driveway. “Hello, Charlie. Is everything all right? Your father was certainly in a hurry. And where is the dog?”
“At my house. Mrs. Richland, someone broke into Mr. Bowditch’s while we were at the funeral and kind of trashed the place.”
“Oh my God, really?” She put her hand to her chest.
“Did you see anyone before? Like in the last couple of days? Someone who didn’t belong on the street?”
She considered. “Gee, I don’t think so. Just the usual deliverymen—you know, Federal Express, UPS, the man who comes around to do things to the Houtons’ lawn… that must cost a pretty penny… the postman in his little truck… how bad is the damage? Was anything stolen?”
“I really don’t know much yet. The police might want to—”
“Talk to me? Of course! Happy to! But if it happened while we were at the funeral…”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, anyway.” I turned to go.
“There was that funny little man selling magazine subscriptions,” she said. “But that was before Mr. Bowditch died.”
I turned back. “Really?”
“Yes. You would have been in school. He had a satchel like the kind postmen used to carry in the old days. It had a sticker on it that said SUBSCRIPTION SERVICE OF AMERICA, I think that was it, and samples inside—Time, Newsweek, Vogue, some others. I told him I didn’t want any magazines, that I read everything I want online. It’s so much more convenient that way, isn’t it? Also more ecological, without all that paper to dispose of in landfills.”
I wasn’t interested in the environmental advantages of online reading. “Did he go to other houses on the street?” Feeling that if anyone could answer that question it would be her.
“Quite a few. I believe he went to Mr. Bowditch’s house, but the old fellow didn’t come to the door. Probably feeling too poorly. Or… I don’t think he liked visitors much, did he? I’m so glad you made friends with him. So sad he’s gone on. When it’s animals, people say they’ve crossed the rainbow bridge. I like that, don’t you?”
“Yes, that’s pretty nice.” I hated it.
“I suppose his dog will be crossing the rainbow bridge soon, poor thing has gotten so thin and white around the muzzle. Will you keep him?”
“Radar? Sure.” I didn’t bother telling her Radar was a female. “What did the magazine salesman look like?”
“Oh, just a funny little man with a funny way of walking and talking. He walked with a kind of a skip, almost like a child, and when I told him I didn’t want any magazines, he said right-o, like he was from England. But really he sounded as American as you or me. Do you think he was the one who broke in? He certainly didn’t look dangerous. Just a funny little man with a funny way of talking. He said ha-ha a lot.”
“Ha-ha?”
“Yes. Not a real laugh, just ha-ha. ‘Seventy per cent off the newsstand price, ma’am, ha-ha.’ And he was little for a man. My height. Do you think he was the one?”
“Probably not,” I said.
“He was wearing a White Sox cap, I remember that, and corduroy pants. The cap had a red circle on the front.”
3
I was all for starting a global cleanup, but Dad said we should wait for the police. “They’ll probably want to document the scene.”
They showed up ten minutes or so later, in a squad car and an unmarked sedan. The guy driving the sedan had white hair and was carrying a considerable paunch. He introduced himself as Detective Gleason and the two uniformed cops as Officers Witmark and Cooper. Witmark had a camcorder; Cooper had a little case like a lunchbox, which I presumed contained evidence-collecting shit.
Detective Gleason surveyed the damage with a marked lack of interest, flapping back his checked sportcoat like wings every now and then to hitch up his pants. I guessed he couldn’t be more than a year or two from getting a gold watch or a fishing rod at his retirement party. Meanwhile, he was serving out his time.