Too Close to Home

“Listen, Jim, where are you going with this?” Ellen asked. “I mean, if there were anything to any of this, that this missing computer has something to do with what happened to the Langleys, what are you suggesting? Because some book that bears a strong resemblance to Conrad’s is on it, the Langleys were all killed? Can’t you see where that sort of thinking is going to lead someone?”

I’d already connected those dots.

“Jim?” Ellen said. “You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“No, I’m here. I was just driving, that’s all.”

“You heard what I said? What that would mean?”

“I’m not sure what it would mean,” I lied, waiting to see whether Ellen was thinking along the same lines I was.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jim. You know what it would mean. That somehow Conrad’s connected to what happened to the Langleys.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” I said.

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Ellen said. “No matter what you might think of him, he’s not capable of being involved with that.”

I said, “There has to be some reason why someone killed the Langleys.”

“It’s not the one you’re hinting at. This is over the top, Jim.”

“I’m not hinting at anything,” I said, my skin prickling under my collar. “But it was kind of interesting, talking to Agnes, about her son. And then I talked to his high school English teacher.”

“You called his high school teacher?”

“I went by and saw him. Walter Burgess.”

“Christ, you get around,” Ellen said. “You’re a regular Sam Spade.”

I didn’t detect any admiration beneath the sarcasm. “The kid was some kind of boy wonder. A genius. And that wasn’t just his mother talking. It was his teacher, too. He was a brilliant writer. Mature beyond his years, as they say.”

“I see.”

“So I think, even if it may not mean anything, I have to let Barry know that computer may be missing, and that one of the things on it was that book, which appears to have been written long before Conrad’s book came out.”

There was silence at the other end of the line.

“Ellen?” I said.

“I’m here. Here’s what I think, whether you like it or not. Conrad’s entitled to know about this, to offer some theory as to how this might have happened, before we talk to Barry. Telling Barry about this could do tremendous damage to Conrad’s reputation. Spark all sorts of rumors and innuendo.”

“I’m not trying to spark rumor or innuendo.”

“Bullshit,” Ellen snapped. “You’ve never let it go. You think there’s a chance now, after all these years, to get back at Conrad.”

“That’s not true,” I said, and almost even believed it.

“You’re suggesting he ripped off this boy’s novel.”

“I just think Barry should know everything there is to know, that’s all.”

“You have no idea what else the police may have already uncovered. They may already have a suspect, for all you know. Look at the kind of work Albert did. Representing all sorts of lowlifes. Lots of people could have had a grudge against him. He pissed off a lot of people when he got criminals off. Maybe somebody Albert didn’t get off was holding a grudge. Or somebody mad about someone Albert did get off.”

I thought about everything Ellen had said. There was a lot of truth in it. I had no idea what else the police investigation was turning up. Barry wasn’t exactly updating me.

“Okay,” I conceded. “Everything you say is true. And it may well be that Barry won’t give two shits about this information. But I think he should have it just the same.”

“It’s just that,” Ellen said, her voice softening, “whatever Conrad might have been years ago, all he is now is my boss. I have a good job. A job that means a lot to me.”

“I know.”

“On top of that, Conrad’s Thackeray’s literary darling. The whole festival’s built around him.”

“I know that, too.”

“It’d be bad enough for my job if his reputation were unfairly smeared. Imagine how bad it’d be if we’re the ones doing the smearing.”

“I hear you.”

“We need my job,” Ellen said. “It pays the bills.”

So there it was.

“And mine doesn’t,” I said.

“I never said that,” Ellen said quickly. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Sure,” I said.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ellen said, “I take it back. I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

I said nothing.

“Listen, all I’m saying is, let’s know what we’re dealing with before we talk to Barry. Let’s talk to Conrad first.”

“What would you have me do?” I asked, ending my silence. “Stroll into his big office and say, ‘Hey, did you plagiarize from one of your students years ago?’”

“The thing is, this is why I called you in the first place. He’s here. With Illeana. They stopped by. You know that thing he does, walking into houses without knocking? He just about gave me a heart attack.”

“You hadn’t locked the door? After what happened?”

“I thought you’d locked the door when you left. Anyway, I’m in the kitchen, he walks in, and I guess I screamed.”

Conrad had always thought he was too important to knock.

“They’re out back now, on the deck.”

“I’m pulling into the drive now,” I said.