The Man Who Wasn't All There by David Handler (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

wife threw him out on November the thirteenth. So Michael considered November the thirteenth to be a kind of holiday. Connie told me he ordinarily ate very plain fare. The meat loaf like he had last night. Roast chicken. Tuna casserole. Absolutely nothing elaborate. But on November the thirteenth she always made him a porterhouse steak from Walt’s Market, cooked medium rare, a baked potato with sour cream and chives, and creamed spinach. He would even pop the cork on a bottle of Dom Perignon like it was New Year’s Eve.’

‘Did Connie find this a tiny bit odd?’

‘She found everything about Mr Michael, as she called him, a tiny bit odd. If you ask me – not that you did – I find it kind of pathetic.’

‘Did you know him well?’

‘Can’t say that I did.’

‘Even though your mother was his father’s youngest sister?’

‘She was one of eight brothers and sisters,’ he responded, tensing slightly. ‘It was a large family.’

‘Still, it seems strange to me that this didn’t come up before.’

Now he tensed more than slightly. ‘What didn’t come up before?’

‘That you, Michael and Austin were first cousins.’

‘You’re an outsider here, so I can understand how it might seem that way to you. But pretty much everyone in Lyme is related to everyone else. This was a remote area founded more than three hundred years ago by a very small group of families.’

‘Yet none of the other founding families had quite the same reputation for standoffish behavior that the Talmadges did.’

‘I’m the product of my forebears, same as you are. That doesn’t mean I belong to a weird religious cult, worship Satan, countenance incest, rape or any of the other crazy things that the people around here think.’

‘Still, I understand that you were a pretty wild kid,’ I said as I searched his face and hands for any traces of fingernail scratches. I saw none.

He narrowed his gaze at me. ‘Who have you been talking to?’

‘Nobody in particular. I just pick up gossip here and there.’

‘There’s too damned much of it in this place,’ he fumed. ‘And whenever something happens it all comes bubbling back up. Since you’ll no doubt end up hearing the sordid details third-hand from one of the village hens, I’ll tell them to you myself. Better you hear it directly from me. Back when I was twelve years old, I was a powder keg. Partly because of what Austin had done to my sister, Deirdre. Partly it was just plain old raging hormones. But I was angry at everyone. Got in fights. Got suspended from school more times than I care to remember. My father took a strap to me, but it didn’t settle me down one bit. And when I discovered motorcycles and girls I got into even more trouble.’

‘I hear you got a girl pregnant.’

‘Yes, I did,’ he said, his nostrils flaring. ‘I also wrecked two bikes. When I needed the money to buy a third one, I lifted it from the handbags of a couple of sweet old ladies who I did chores for. They called my father and he hauled me in. It was made real plain to me – either enlist or get locked up. So I ended up in ’Nam. Let me tell you something. Having your best friend bleed to death in your arms with his intestines hanging out all over you has a way of knocking some sense into you. It sure knocked some into me. When I came home I settled down and decided to serve the public, same as my father did. Married Millie. We have two beautiful girls.’ He broke off, breathing in and out. ‘Now, do you want to tell me why this is any of your damned business?’

‘I’m just trying to get a sense of things.’

‘No, that’s not what you’re doing,’ he argued.

‘OK, what am I doing?’

‘You’re suggesting that I followed you up that mountain and paid Austin back for Deirdre after all of these years. That’s total bull. Never happened. I was down in the parking lot coordinating the response team.’

‘There’s no chance you could have slipped away for an hour or two? Austin was also making your life miserable by trying to do your job for you. That had to be incredibly humiliating.’

‘So what if it was? It doesn’t mean that I slit his throat.’ He shook his head at me in total disgust. ‘Can I give you some advice?’

‘Please, do.’

‘You should get that head of yours checked.’

‘I just did.’

‘Then you should get it checked again. You’re nuts.’

‘There are those who would agree with you.’

‘I have a good life here. I would never do anything to jeopardize it. I wouldn’t kill Austin. And I for damned sure wouldn’t kill Michael. I mean, why would I do that?’

‘I don’t know. Why would you?’

He stood up, squaring his big Smokey hat on his head and glowered at me menacingly. ‘Are we done here?’

‘We are as far as I’m concerned. Thanks for stopping by with the news.’

Resident Trooper Jim Conley said nothing in response to that. He was already out the door and gone.

I made a fire in the parlor, opened a bottle of Chianti Classico and put the caldo verde in a pot on the stove on low heat to thaw. Decided some Italian parsley would liven it up, so I moseyed out to the herb garden with a pair of kitchen pruners to see if there was still some growing. There was. It’s very hardy. I snipped off a handful and was starting back to the kitchen when a silver Crown Vic came up the driveway, setting off the motion detector floodlights.

It was Lieutenant Carmine Tedone. He climbed out of his cruiser slowly and wearily. It had been a long day that had started at dawn and was seemingly not over yet. Lulu ambled over to greet him. He knelt down and patted her.

‘Good evening, Lieutenant. I thought you were up in Meriden.’

‘I was. Thought I’d stop by on my way home.’

‘You live