Page 42 of Go Home
“Seems they keep a car in there,” Marcus said.“But it’s gone.”
Kate checked the mailbox.
“Look at this.”She pulled out a handful of letters.“No one’s emptied this for a while.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.Maybe Brandon took revenge on Whitman.He could have confessed to his mom, and they’ve gone on the run together.But where would Father Tom fit into that?”
“Maybe one of them confessed to him,” Marcus suggested, with a shrug.“So, it was like a rerun of what happened between Tom and Ray.They expected forgiveness, understanding, absolution.Instead, they get the hardline.Tom tells them to hand themselves in…”
At that moment, a large lady emerged from the house next door, a tiny baby over her shoulder.
“Judith is not here.She went out.Who are you?”
She had a deep voice and a melodic way of speaking that Kate associated with West Africa.They showed their IDs.
“We’re actually looking for Mrs.Montgomery’s son, Brandon.”
The lady made a sound, halfway between a tut and a click.“You won’t find him.”
Kate and Marcus exchanged a glance.“Why not?”Kate asked.
“Because Brandon is dead.He took his own life a month ago.”
The news hit Kate like a brick.It wasn’t, in that moment, anything to do with the case.You followed leads, and some didn’t take you anywhere.Another way of looking at it, in fact, was that everything took you somewhere; it was only by discounting theories, ruling people and possibilities out, that you groped your way towards the truth.
No, it wasn’t about the case.It was the sadness of it.Of a young life snuffed out.Of a kid who goes to college, full of hope, excited about the future, maybe hoping that this time, things will work out differently for him.And instead of that, it’s an action replay of high school.He’s shunned and mocked, made to feel ashamed of his background and his beliefs, picked apart with such precision that he comes to feel he doesn’t have a right to walk the earth.
She felt sick.She wanted to sit in the car and cry.But she couldn’t.Her phone was ringing.She didn’t recognize the number.
“Detective Charles Esterhaus, County PD.I’m told you’re investigating the murder of Professor Alan Whitman?”
“That’s right,” Kate said, snapping back into professional mode.“How can I help you, Detective?”
“We’ve got someone in custody downtown.They were apprehended inside Professor Whitman’s home with weapons.”
“Who are they?”
“A Mrs.Judith Montgomery.”
+++++
“What were you intending to do with the stun gun, Mrs.Montgomery?”
“I told you; I’ve carried it for my own safety ever since I was attacked three years ago.”
The woman went back to muttering soundlessly to herself.
Is she praying?
Kate took a deep breath.She was getting nowhere.
“And the knife?”
Judith gazed at Kate, blinking, as if she’d suddenly appeared in front of her.
“I put that knife in my bag some weeks ago because it’s the sharpest one in the house, and I was afraid my son might harm himself.”
