Authors: Faye Kellerman
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense
Goldin handed Greta her tea. “It didn’t sound as if Davida was suffering.”
“She don’t suffer, but she don’t like Berlin. She told me dat all the time.”
“So why did she live there?” Goldin asked.
“Because West Berlin is home for Hermann. It was no good marriage. Davida likes parties, Hermann don’t like any of it. He stands by himself and don’t say a word to no one.”
Her description of Hermann Brecht was consistent with the account John Reed had given them of Lilah’s birth party. Decker thought about Reed’s story: Hermann as a depressive drunk. No wonder there’d been strong lager at the parties.
“He hated parties.” Greta set her teacup down on the coffee table. “He and Davida were no good together.”
“Did you ever see them fight?” Decker said.
“Dey fight all de time.”
“Could you hear what they fought about?”
The old woman let out a sigh. “Dey speak in English mostly, but I know what dey fight about. Hermann running wit de young girls. Why not he run wit young girls? He was a young man — twenty-one, twenty-two when dey marry. Davida was too
old
for him. She should have let him go.” She began to knead her hands. “She should have let him go.”
“He wanted a divorce?” Decker said.
Greta shook her head. “Davida has all de money, so Hermann don’t get divorce. Davida give Hermann lots of money to make his movies. Ach…” Greta waved her hands in the air. “Only movies important to Hermann. Silly ass!” The old woman’s eyes grew wet. “He cause himself heartbreak. He cause me more heartbreak!”
Decker waited.
“He has affair with my daughter, stupid ass!” she blurted. “My daughter… she was stupid, too. I tell my girls over and over, stay away from the family… we are only one ting above de servants. We say or do de wrong ting, Davida find some otter seamstress. My otter daughters, dey listen. Heidi don’t listen. We fight all the time. That’s why I don’t say notting when Elaine marries son-of-gun.”
“Elaine had an affair with Hermann Brecht?” Goldin asked.
“No, no, no!” Greta said. “I mean I keep my mout shut. I tried to talk to Heidi. She was so stubborn, so…” Greta tightened her face. “A mule!” Her eyes clouded. “A sweet mule… everyone take advantage of her. She believe everyone but me cause I’m her modder.”
Decker said, “Is she dead, Greta?”
The old woman nodded.
“How?” Decker asked.
“Dey say suicide.”
“But you don’t believe them.”
She bit her lip and shrugged. “I don’t ask questions. Maybe yes, maybe no. First Heidi, den Hermann. Now you tell me Lilah. Maybe it runs in the family.”
Runs in the family
…
Decker said, “Your daughter was Lilah’s mother, wasn’t she, Greta?”
“What?”
Goldin said.
Greta lowered her head.
Goldin said, “Are you saying Davida isn’t Lilah’s mother, Greta?”
“Lilah is mine,” Greta whispered. “My granddotter. And Frederick is my grandson. Davida offered to take de baby and Heidi says yes because she is so young — only fifteen when Lilah was born. Davida promise to give de baby a good, rich home. I have so little ’cause I am a widow. I work and work, but de money…
five
children. Dey eat, dey need clothes.”
She made a fist, then slowly released it.
“But den Heidi get pregnant again with Frederick. Hermann should have
married
my Heidi. He was good to us, gave us money. But he was a
weak
man. He loved my Heidi but he don’t marry her, silly ass! Heidi try to take care of her little son, but it’s too much. So Davida was nice and offered to take him, too. She told everyone he was adopted.”
Again, the room became still. From the outside came the noise of bird songs, the sound of distant chatter.
“I don’t believe…” Goldin shook his head. “Davida used to make this
big deal
out of Freddy being
adopted
.”
Decker felt his stomach tighten.
Goldin went on. “She was so
mean
to him. And she never said a word about Lilah. I’ll lay money that Lilah doesn’t even know.”
“No, she don’t know,” Greta said. “I know she don’t. When we met… it wasn’t only luck we met. One day I see her as the teacher of arts for seniors. Oh my goodness, I knew! She looks essackly like my Heidi.” Her voice grew small. “I sign up for her class. Slowly, we start to talk after class. We talk and talk and it’s like talking to Heidi all over again. My sweet little baby — only
eighteen
when she die.”
Goldin took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“Lilah stops visiting me,” she said, “I feel like I lose Heidi again. But not as bad. I know Lilah and Frederick are still alive.” She kissed Goldin’s hand. “You are a good boy.”
“What happened between you and Lilah, Greta?” Goldin asked. “Why’d she stop visiting you?”
“It’s very hard…”
“Do you want some more tea, Greta?” Decker asked.
“Ya, dat’s good idea.”
Goldin poured her another cup of tea and wiped his damp pants with a clean napkin.
“You want to change, Perry?” Greta asked. “I put your pants outside to dry.”
“Nah, I’m just a little clammy. I’ll live.”
Decker moved closer to the old woman. “What did happen between you and Lilah, Greta?”
“It’s my fault. I rush, rush, rush and Lilah’s not ready.”
“You told her you were her grandmother and she didn’t believe you,” Goldin said.
“No, Perry, I’m not dat stupid.”
Goldin blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply you were.”
Greta’s lips formed a smile around a gaping hole. “I know. I give you a hard time because all dis is hard.”
“I’m sure it’s very painful,” Decker said.
“Ya, painful. Painful to lose Lilah.” Greta sipped tea and held the cup in her lap. “Everyone knows dat Frederick was adopted. But no one knows his parents, no?”
“Except Davida,” Goldin said.
“Ya, except Davida. But she knows Hermann’s dead and Heidi’s dead and there’s no one to tell de trut. She tink I’m dead or in Germany. I come to America maybe twenty year ago. I’m very happy I come. Dey let me in because I have sister in St. Louis, Missouri.”
“It’s nice to have family,” Decker said.
“Ya, she tell dem she will give me job. So dey let me come. I move to California because it’s warm here and I like warm. But Davida… she never knows I’m here.”
Decker nodded and waited.
“So I talk and talk to Lilah. Den one day, I tell her maybe I know who Frederick’s parents are. And she says, who? And den I say, maybe Frederick is my grandson.” She placed the cup and saucer on the table. “Oooo, dat is bad ting to say! She gets so mad at me. She says I was only being nice to her to see Frederick. Not
true
! She is
mine too
. I just
test
her with Frederick. But it’s too late! She goes out of my house and will never talk to me again. She says I betry her.”
“Betray,” Goldin said.
“Ya, betray her. She never gives me chance to tell her whole trut.”
“Maybe you should tell her the truth now, Greta,” Goldin said. “Maybe she’d want to know.”
“Maybe I tell her and she tries anodder suicide.” Greta shook her head. “No… I don’t open my mout no more. You don’t tell her, Perry. You promise me. You have big mout.”
“Yes, I do. And I promise to respect your wishes.”
Silence.
“I still don’t get it,” Goldin said. “All these years, Davida was a you-know-what on wheels to Freddy and
doted
on Lilah. What makes people so selectively cruel?”
“Maybe it was because Lilah was a girl,” Decker said.
“I tink no,” Greta said. “She closer to Lilah because she was hers.”
Goldin frowned. “I thought you said Lilah was
your
granddaughter.”
Greta said, “Ya, she was.”
“Then I don’t get—”
“Oh, I confuse you,” Greta said. “I tink Davida was mean to Frederick because she was very mad at Hermann. She mean to Frederick to get back at her husband, you see.”
Decker sat up in his seat. Suddenly, it all made sense.
Goldin said, “No, I don’t—”
“Different fathers,” Decker interrupted. “Hermann Brecht was Frederick’s father, but not Lilah’s.”
“Ya,” Greta said. “Essackly.”
Goldin said, “So who was Lilah’s father?”
Decker’s own words ran through his brain….
linkage between Davida and Lilah
…
“Kingston Merritt.” Decker looked at Greta. “It was Kingston, wasn’t it.”
“Ya, it was Kingston,” Greta said. “He had eye out for her. I tell Heidi not to talk to family.” She shook her head. “She don’t listen. She get into trouble… twice. Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl!”
And then the old woman broke into woeful tears.
Decker adjusted his
weight in the driver’s seat of the parked Plymouth and pulled a cold meat-loaf sandwich out of his paper bag. He felt the stare as strong as a blast of heat and regarded the body in the passenger’s seat… Marge’s waifish eyes upon him. He gave her half.
“Ah, Pete, you don’t have to.”
“I’m going to have a big dinner tonight anyway.” He checked his watch — one o’clock. Dinner was still
seven
hours away. Oh, what the hey. He’d fill up on coffee. “Don’t worry about it. So what’s up, Doc?”
“Which doc?” Marge bit into the sandwich. “How about we start with Kingston Merritt.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m wondering if Lilah knew King was her daddy and that’s why she felt so guilty over his death.”
“Did she imply that Kingston might be her father?”
“Well, she called him overbearing, but also said he acted that way out of
love
. Doesn’t that sound like something a kid would say about her father rather than her brother?”
“Yeah, Marge, but we’ve got to remember that Merritt was
functionally
her father. And it’s not just from what
he
told you. Goldin and Reed painted us the same picture.” Decker sipped coffee from a thermos. “At this moment, I see no point in asking Lilah what she knows. She’s heavily invested in being Hermann Brecht’s daughter. I don’t want to tell her something that may shove her into the deep end again.”
“Pete, I don’t think the lady’s ever swum in the shallow.”
Decker capped his thermos. “Good point.”
“So what exactly took place in the Rhineland?” Marge asked. “King knocked up this woman’s daughter and the daughter gave Lilah to Davida to raise as her own?”
“Yep. Greta was Davida’s personal dressmaker. The job involved a lot of housecalls — fittings. Greta brought along her daughters as assistants. She tried to keep a tight rein on her girls, but hormones won out. Heidi caught King’s eye and nature took its course. They were both fifteen at the time. According to Greta, Davida was more than happy to take the baby. And Hermann seemed willing, too. With Davida being over forty, a healthy pregnancy looked remote. Herm wanted someone to bear his name. The only one who was
not
happy about the arrangement was Kingston. Not that he wanted Heidi, but he was furious about Hermann co-opting
his
baby.”
Marge said, “Remember John Reed telling us about Lilah’s birth party. How Merritt and Hermann came to blows?” She licked her fingers. “All makes sense now.”
“Yes, it sure does. Greta remembered a lot of hatred and fierce competition between the two of them. They were only seven years apart. When Hermann knocked up Heidi, Kingston was
crazed
with anger. First, Hermann stole his baby, then his
girl
. Hermann had been a big pussy hound to begin with. He and Davida used to fight about his roving eye. Old Herm scored a big coup when he knocked up Heidi, managing to piss off his wife
and
his stepson. What I can’t understand is why Kingston — who
hated
Hermann — played along with the charade of older brother.”
“I’ll use your words, Pete,” Marge said. “After Brecht died, King was functionally Lilah’s father. Why stir up dirt when you have what you want? Or maybe King didn’t say anything out of consideration for Davida.”
Decker thought a moment. “Maybe that was the secret in the memoirs. Davida didn’t want it coming out that King was Lilah’s father.”
“Or that Hermann was Freddy’s father. Speaking of which, why were the memoirs sent to
Lilah
and not Freddy — Hermann’s true blood son?”
“Maintaining the sham, I guess,” Decker said. “Lilah was acknowledged blood offspring of Hermann and Davida. Freddy was the outcast — the adopted child.”
“Just a good old family with old bones in the closets,” Marge said.
Decker said, “A good old family that’s not big on natural deaths. Both Heidi and Hermann committed suicide. Heidi’s may have been accidental. Greta told me the official line was alcohol and drug intoxication — Seconal. I can’t imagine a reputable doctor prescribing barbiturates to a sixteen-year-old back then. Maybe they were Hermann’s.”
Marge considered his words. “Or maybe they were Davida’s. Maybe Davida
gave
them to Heidi… supposedly out of the kindness of her heart. Pete, Hermann was a big
drinker
. Suppose Davida knew Herm and Heidi used to drink together and she hoped that pills and booze wouldn’t mix.” She became animated. “Pete, maybe it wasn’t King’s paternity thing that scared Davida. Maybe Hermann somehow implicated Davida in Heidi’s
death
! That would be something worth murdering over.”
“Murdering who?” Decker asked.
“Kingston,” Marge said. “Davida thought Hermann wrote about Heidi’s death in his memoirs. And Davida also knew that Lilah was getting ready to read them — the twenty-five years were just about up. So Davida decided to steal the memoirs. Suppose she asked
King
to steal them.”
“And he agreed to do it for money.”
“Right. So he lifted the papers, then began to have second thoughts about forking them over to Mama.”
“Why the second thoughts?” Decker asked. “Why didn’t he just take the money and run?”
“Maybe something was more important to King than money. Maybe, when he read the memoirs, all his latent paternal feelings came out. He became furious not only at
Hermann
but at
Davida
for denying him his true role as Lilah’s father. And he knew the truth was in the papers. And he suddenly wanted Lilah to know, too. Heidi
was
her birth mother after all. So old King did a U-turn and told his mother he was going to give Lilah her memoirs back.”