Someone Must Die (26 page)

She was crazy, crazier than Diana had ever seen her in college. Talking her down only seemed to agitate her, which wasn’t helping Ethan. Would begging help?

“You’ve won, Gertrude. You took Larry from me. You’ve killed Jonathan. You’ve broken me.”

“You think so?” Gertrude said, staring at her ring. “And here I think I’m just getting started.”

C
HAPTER
49

Gertrude wasn’t answering her phone. It was clear to Aubrey that everyone was becoming increasingly worried, especially McDonough, who paced back and forth in the small space in the van.

Aubrey watched McDonough hit Gertrude’s number again—his third attempt.

It had been fifteen minutes since they’d last spoken.

Aubrey understood the agent’s feeling of uselessness. She sat in the back of the van, picking up bits and pieces of information, mostly from Smolleck’s phone conversations. He had contacted someone to check into Gertrude Morgenstern’s brother but hadn’t heard back. Then Detective Gonzalez came by to report that Janis Hendrix had calmed down enough to talk about what had happened.

Aubrey wasn’t able to keep silent. “Where’s Ethan?” she asked the detective. “Is he okay?”

Gonzalez looked exhausted. “Janis doesn’t know where he is.”

“What does that mean?” Aubrey said. “She was with him, wasn’t she?”

“She said she left Ethan sleeping in a bedroom on the third floor and went downstairs to get instructions from her mother. When she got back to the bedroom, Ethan was gone.”

“Gone?”

“She searched the apartments on the third floor but couldn’t find him. She panicked and wrapped a pillow in a blanket, pretending it was Ethan.”

“Why would she do that?” Aubrey said.

Gonzalez’s thick eyebrows came together in a scowl. “She knew that without Ethan, the swap would never take place. And she had to get out of there. Apparently her mother told her that if she walked out on her own, the police would shoot her dead.”

“And she believed that?” Smolleck asked.

“Janis is terrified of the woman. She told us Gertrude wouldn’t give a second thought to blowing up the building, even with her own daughter in it.”

An invisible hand squeezed Aubrey’s gut. What if this madwoman decided she’d gotten what she wanted and blew up the building with Mama and Ethan in it?

Smolleck met Aubrey’s eyes. He gave her a little nod, letting her know he understood what was at stake. He was doing what he could.
Hold it together,
he told her without words.

He turned to the detective. “I need to speak with Hendrix myself.”

“I’m not sure you’ll get much more from her right now,” Gonzalez said. “She talked up a storm, then went silent, almost catatonic.”

“Did she tell you how she got Ethan to leave the carnival with her?” Smolleck asked.

Gonzalez nodded. “She told us she put on the gray wig she’d worn when she babysat for him in LA and waited for him to be alone. When she saw Ethan come out of the fun house, she told him both his grandparents were in the parking lot. He trusted her because she’d babysat for him. Once behind the carnival and out of sight, she injected him with Versed.”

“My God,” Aubrey said. “He’s being drugged?”

Smolleck frowned. “Then how could Ethan have hidden from her at the time-share?”

“Janis told us since bringing him to the apartment, she used only small doses of Valium,” Gonzalez said. “Then she didn’t give him anything after the first day because Ethan was very cooperative. He’s been eating well and seemed happy enough watching movies in the bedroom.”

Eating well
.
Watching movies.
But that didn’t free Aubrey of guilt. Ethan had been two floors above her yesterday. How could she have not known? She went over in her mind if there had been any indication, any hint, of his presence. But she was certain not even her father had realized how near Ethan had been to them.

“Why did Janis do it?” Aubrey asked. “What kind of person agrees to kidnap a little boy and keep him captive?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” Gonzalez said.

The detective had no other useful information about Janis or Ethan. Smolleck asked her to call him when Janis was communicative again. He wanted to interview Star’s daughter himself.

After Gonzalez left, Smolleck took another call. Aubrey absorbed what the detective had told them and tried to focus on the positives. Ethan was alive. He had been alert enough to sneak out of the bedroom and hide. But where was he?

Then the negatives crept into her head. Janis was terrified of her own mother and believed Star would have been willing to sacrifice her. That meant if they didn’t find some way to persuade Star to walk away from this, Aubrey’s mother and nephew were doomed.

She glanced over at Smolleck, who was scribbling down notes, his cell phone held to his ear by his shoulder. He got off the phone, and she tried to read the tense expression on his face.

“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what we have on Gertrude’s brother.”

Wings fluttered in Aubrey’s abdomen. They had found something.

“Willis Morgenstern was reported killed in action in June 1968 at the age of nineteen.”

Aubrey thought about the timing. Gertrude would have been seventeen when her brother died, an impressionable age. Which explained the dog tag Gertrude never took off.

“Shortly after his death, a soldier who had served with Willis contacted the Morgensterns and told them Willis had been killed by friendly fire. The Morgensterns filed a complaint and demanded an investigation.” Smolleck paused. “The government refused to investigate and denied the soldier’s story.”

Aubrey was beginning to understand the woman’s psyche. “Gertrude would have been incensed about the government sending her brother off to fight, getting him killed in friendly fire, then denying its role.”

Smolleck tensed. She remembered he had been a marine.

She continued. “It might explain why she became a revolutionary and believed violence was the answer.”

“Possibly,” Smolleck said. “But how can we use this information now?”

“By telling her the government made a mistake. By apologizing and reassuring her the case will be reopened so she can finally get justice for her brother.”

“We can’t make those promises,” Smolleck said.

“Jesus,” Aubrey said. “So lie. Stretch the truth. My mother’s and nephew’s lives are at stake.”

Smolleck looked at McDonough. “What do you think?”

“I’ll try anything,” McDonough said. “The problem is, Star’s not picking up when I call, and she hasn’t been checking her messages.” He glanced at his watch. “I can call her again.”

“Well, let’s see if she answers this time,” Smolleck said.

McDonough hit the “Call” button. Aubrey could hear it ring, just like the last few times, then go to voice mail. “This is Star Matin. Please leave a message.”

“Please call back, Ms. Matin,” McDonough said. “We want to talk to you about your brother, Willis.” He hung up and looked at Smolleck, his expression defeated. “She has Diana. I think she’s finished with us.”

Aubrey’s gut cramped. She couldn’t accept this was the end. That Gertrude would have her confrontation with Mama, then go out with a final blast, taking Ethan with them.

“There’s something else we can try,” Aubrey said.

Smolleck and McDonough both turned to her.

“Let me call her from my cell phone.”

“Why would she take a call from you?” Smolleck asked.

“Because I’m Di Hartfeld’s daughter. Because Gertrude is obsessed with everyone in my mother’s life, and she’ll be curious to hear why I’m calling.”

“And if she takes your call?” Smolleck asked.

“I’ll talk to her about her brother.”

Smolleck shook his head. “You’re not a qualified hostage negotiator.”

“But I won’t be negotiating,” Aubrey said. “And I’ve taken dozens of behavioral-psychology and related courses. I can do this.”

McDonough rubbed his bald scalp.

“Let me try,” she said. “We have nothing else.”

Smolleck nodded.

“Give me your phone,” McDonough said. He took it from her, connected it to a machine, then put a pair of headphones over Aubrey’s ears.

She could hear ringing. Three rings. Four. Five.

“Hullo?” said a coarse voice. Gertrude, not Star.

“This is Aubrey.”

“Yeah. Your mother said she recognized your number.”

“Is my mother okay?”

“Sure. She’s fine.”

“Good,” Aubrey said. “I want to talk to you about something I believe is important to you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Your brother, Willis.”

It seemed to Aubrey that Gertrude’s breathing had gotten heavier.

Don’t hang up. Please, don’t hang up.

“The government did your family a huge disservice,” Aubrey said.

“They killed my brother.”

“Yes, I know,” Aubrey said. “I understand your anger.”

“Do you?”

Wrong approach. “You’re right,” Aubrey said. “I can’t understand how you feel, but I understand why you would be angry.”

She heard what sounded like a sigh. “We were so normal,” Gertrude said. “So wonderfully ordinary. My brother played football. I was a cheerleader. My parents went to all our games.”

Not so different from how Aubrey’s family had once been. A family in a snow globe. And then without warning, everything had changed.

“And then they took him,” Gertrude said. “He had just turned eighteen. We were a trusting family. My parents didn’t play games like a lot of people who got their kids doctor’s excuse letters or had them join the National Guard. When Willis was called up, he went proudly. And we let him go.”

Aubrey waited for her to continue.

“When they came to our door to tell us he’d been killed in action, my parents were heartbroken.” Gertrude swallowed. “I thought I’d never recover. I had loved my brother more than anything.” Her voice became a whisper. “I worshipped him.”

Aubrey thought about the young, pretty girl in the photo, fingering her dead brother’s dog tag.

“The letter came a few weeks later from a buddy of his saying Willis’s death had been an awful accident. Their squad leader had mistakenly led them into a free-fire zone, and Willis was shot by one of our own soldiers. We contacted our congressman and asked him to look into it, but the government stuck to its story. They refused to apologize.”

“They were wrong,” Aubrey said.

“My parents never got over it,” Gertrude said. “Dad died from a heart attack, and Mom ended up in a mental hospital.” She didn’t speak for a few seconds. “The government destroyed my family.”

“And you want to get even,” Aubrey said. “But hurting more people won’t bring your brother back, or your family.” She took a breath. “The government owes you justice for Willis. They have agreed to reopen his case.”

Star didn’t react.

“Get justice for you brother,” Aubrey said. “For your mother, and for your father. Get justice for yourself. But please, don’t hurt anyone else.”

Star was silent.

“Please, Star. Let Ethan go. Let my mother go.”

“Okay,” Star said, so softly Aubrey wasn’t sure she heard her correctly.

Smolleck nodded.

“Thank you,” Aubrey said. “Thank you, Star.”

The line went dead.

Aubrey’s hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Would Star do it? Would she let them go?

She didn’t want to think about the alternative.

C
HAPTER
50

It was strange, yet also familiar, for Diana to be sitting so close to her college roommate.

Gertrude’s cell phone had been ringing every five minutes or so, but this last time, Gertrude had frowned at the number on the display and shown it to Diana. Aubrey’s number.

Gertrude had sat down on the sofa beside her, so close that Diana could smell her scent—a not-unpleasant smell like spicy sausages. She was reminded of the early days of their freshman year when they’d go to the dorm lounge to watch a movie and share popcorn out of a chipped mixing bowl.

The memory was a distant whisper, as Diana strained to hear what Aubrey was saying on the other end of the phone.

Something about Gertrude’s brother.

Then, Gertrude had become agitated as she told Aubrey things about her brother and parents Diana had never known. Diana was starting to understand what had made Gertrude the irreverent, passionate woman she had once admired, but also feared.

The government destroyed my family,
she’d said to Aubrey on the phone.

No wonder Gertrude wanted to set off bombs.

Diana caught a word on Aubrey’s end.
“Justice.”
And it seemed Gertrude’s face changed, but to what? Sadness? Defeat?

“Okay,”
Gertrude said softly, then put her phone down and sat without moving, as the air conditioner hummed.

“Justice for your brother,” Diana said. “That’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it?”

Gertrude shifted, as though awakening. “It was in the beginning.”

“That’s why it was so important to you to make a statement,” Diana said. “The library would have been that statement.”

Gertrude got up from the sofa and went over to the kitchen counter. It was cluttered with pipe bombs, dynamite, and Molotov cocktails, just like the workbench in the brownstone basement had been.

Suddenly, Diana understood. “I took it away from you. Your only way to be heard, your voice. I left you with no choice.”

Gertrude met her eyes. Blue and wide. She’d always had the prettiest eyes.

“That’s why you blew up the brownstone,” Diana said. “But how did you survive?”

Gertrude gave her a small smile.

The memory of that day pushed against Diana like a rough wave, but as it receded, she was left with clarity. “After I told you about the deal with the FBI, you went back inside,” Diana said. “You thought it was all over.”

“I knew it was over.”

“So you ran back down to the basement where Gary and Michael were working on the bombs for the library.”

Gertrude stood motionless at the counter, as though she were remembering it, too.

“From the top of the basement stairs, you could have thrown a Molotov cocktail against the brick wall. The explosion would have set off the other bombs on the workbench.”

Gertrude remained still.

“You would have had a couple of seconds to get out before the explosions reached the stairs,” Diana said. “You could have run out through the mudroom, then out the back door.”

Gertrude seemed to awaken. She looked back at Diana. “But they found my remains.”

“Because you planted them, didn’t you?” Diana said. “The fires burned for six days, so no one was able to search the wreckage. What did you do? Cut off your finger and braid? Scorch them along with your clothes and go back to leave them in the ruins?”

“I see you’ve become an ace detective, too.” Gertrude’s voice sounded tired.

“Then you disappeared, hating Larry, hating Jonathan, and hating me. Waiting for the right moment to destroy each of us, because we took away your voice.”

Gertrude picked up one of the Molotov cocktails and took a lighter from her pocket.

Diana knew nothing she could do or say would stop Gertrude from fulfilling what she saw as her destiny.

Gertrude lit the rag in the bottle. “You got it right, Di, except for one little thing.” She drew her arm back, the bottle clasped in her hand. “I wasn’t the one who blew up the brownstone.”

What was she saying?

Gertrude let out a laugh that could have been a cry. She flung the flaming bottle toward the wall above the counter, as she sang out, “April Fool!”