Spiral (19 page)

”David’s had shock treatments?”

”When he was younger, but it’s still a permitted form of treatment, just not one Nicolas wants anymore. Nor does the patient, for that matter.”

”David’s a part of the decision process.”

”Of course, Mr. Cuddy. He’s of legal age and not incompetent, just severely depressed. So, I do what I can for him with the combination of drugs every day and therapy twice a week.”

”At your office?”

”Ah, no. I travel to the house, actually.”

”Why?”

Forbes blinked again. ”Why?”

‘Yes. David has a license, and the pills don’t keep him from driving, do they?”

”No.”

”And the Isle of Athens is—what, a mile from you?”

”Less, but David can’t really manage driving himself much before four, anyway.”

”You don’t take late afternoon appointments?”

”I do. But”—Forbes shook his fishing rod this time—”the Helides house is conveniently on the way to my marina.”

I gave it a moment before saying, ”I’ve been told David has a computer?”

”It’s a way for him to interact socially without the ordeal of a face-to-face, so to speak.”

The ordeal. ”So he does electronic mail?”

”And visits Web pages, perhaps even commenting on some sites and seeing others comment back.”

I thought I’d heard nearly enough. ”Anything I should stay away from in talking with David?”

Forbes actually set his fishing rod down now. ”Yes.”

”What?”

He looked at me directly. ”Any mention of his niece.”

I wonder what must have been on my face. ”Doctor, you understand that—”

”—that Nicolas wants to find out who killed his granddaughter, yes. And that he wants you to speak with everyone at the party inside that house on the day in question.”

”But I’m not supposed to mention Veronica’s name?” Forbes patted the hair on his head. ”I told you before, Mr. Cuddy. David is upset by any change, and the bigger the change, the more he’s upset.”

”Meaning the murder of his niece really hit him.”

”Especially because she was interested in computers, and her tutor, Tranh —however smart he may be—is not nearly as sophisticated with using them as someone who lives much of his life through one.”

”But Spi Held told me most of his composing was done by computer.”

Forbes blinked again. ”And therefore?”

”Why didn’t Veronica use her father as a computer teacher?”

”I’m not sure they got along all that well.”

”Spi and his daughter?”

”Correct.”

”But David and Veronica did?”

”With respect to the computer, Mr. Cuddy, and that’s part of my point.”

”Then I’m not seeing it.”

A labored sigh as he reeled in his fishing line. ”One of the few... connections between David and the ‘real’ world outside his house and the hammock was his contact with his niece when she came to visit her grandfather. One of the few remaining connections is his ‘virtual’ linkage via computer, something he and the girl sometimes did together. I would hate to have you... discourage David from resorting to the online world by resurrecting now-painful memories of his niece doing that with him.”

”I can live without him demonstrating his computer to me, but David was at his father’s birthday party, and is therefore a viable suspect in Veronica’s murder.”

”No.” Forbes pulled the rod in half and moved to stow it back under the gunwale. ”No, I don’t see that.”

”Why not?”

”To begin with, my patient attended that party only to please Nicolas, and just being there was a terrible strain on David. I could tell.”

I thought about my private screening at Sergeant Pintana’s office. While Forbes’s name was on the guest list Justo had compiled for me, I couldn’t remember seeing him on the videotape Kalil Biggs had shot. ”You were at the party that day?”

”Yes, but I stayed with David most of the time, and after the ‘singing incident,’ I checked to be sure he was all right.”

”Checked where?”

”With David himself, before he went back to his suite to recover.”

”Recover.”

”From the emotional trauma of his niece’s... ‘performance'.”

”But you didn’t stay with David?”

”No, I spent time with Nicolas instead. And again after the girl’s body was discovered. And that’s my second point, actually.”

”What is?”

”It’s my understanding from Nicolas that the police believe this killing was carefully planned. As a severe depressive, David is incapable of such.”

”Since he got a driver’s license, tends his plants at that hammock, and lives through his computer, I think you might be wrong there.”

”I’m not, Mr. Cuddy, but even if I were, it’s also my understanding that his niece was sexually assaulted.”

I nodded.

”Then,” said Forbes, ”David isn’t a viable’ suspect, as you characterize it.”

”Because?”

”Mr. Cuddy, earlier I alluded to the side effects of antidepressant drugs?”

”You did.”

Forbes moved over to the dashboard. ”Well, one of Zoloft’s principal drawbacks is decreased sexual desire and capacity.”

I focused on the adjective. ”Just ‘decreased.’”

”In most who take it. However, David has been on such a high dosage for so long, he’s incapable of achieving an erection.”

”There are devices he could have—”

”No. No, Mr. Cuddy, even if David could have found a ‘device’ to accomplish the penetration, he would have no sexual interest in his niece.” Dr. Henry Forbes sighed. ”Or in anybody else, for that matter.”

It was nearly seven
p.m
. when I turned onto the Isle of Athens. Approaching the Helides gate, I saw only one television truck and a small klatch of reporters standing in the street, two sharing a cigarette. Too late for the early news, they probably were hanging around in hopes of getting something for the eleven o’clock broadcast.

I drove through them slowly as they called out soundbite questions to me through the windows of the Cavalier. Umberto Reyes came from his little gazebo and opened the gate. When I got to the garage, I saw the pickup truck I’d noticed on my first visit snugged up against one of the bay doors.

After ringing the front bell, I waited long enough for someone to answer it that I figured whoever it would be had to have walked a long ways.

The whoever was Duy Tranh. Wearing a pinstriped shirt, khaki slacks, and a determined frown.

”Mr. Cuddy, I thought it was clear from last night that you were to use the back entrance.”

”I must have forgotten.”

”When Mr. Umberto Reyes called to say you were coming, that’s where I went to let you in.”

”I’m really sorry for your inconvenience.”

My reply wasn’t meant sarcastically, but I could see Tranh took it as such anyway.

Then he said, ”The Colonel is anxious to speak with you.”

* * *

”Lieutenant,” said the garbled voice, ”I believe you’ve met my wife, Cassandra.”

”Several times, sir.”

As Duy Tranh moved to the couch in the den, I watched Nicolas Helides slouching in a monogrammed, terry-cloth robe on one of the red leather chairs. His legs under the hem of the cloth looked thin, pale, and veined. Behind the chair stood Cassandra Helides in the same kind of placket shirt I’d seen on Cornel Radescu earlier at courtside. Her hands were under the Skipper’s robe at the collar, kneading his neck and shoulder muscles.

She said, ”Mr. Cuddy was at the tennis club today,” and then leaned down to kiss the top of her husband’s left ear before looking back up at me. ”Did you learn anything there that surprised you?”

I wasn’t liking the challenging leer on her face. ”Not really.”

Cassandra nodded. ”I didn’t think you would.” She kissed her husband once more, then said, ”Well, I’ll leave you to business. Mr. Cuddy, feel free to come see me if you need anything else.”

”Thank you.”

When Cassandra Helides walked out from behind the Skipper’s chair, I couldn’t see she was wearing anything but the shirt, which reached a third of the way down her thighs. I didn’t turn as she went by me and out the door to the corridor.

Nicolas Helides rolled his shoulders a little, as if drawing the last satisfying sensation from his wife’s massage. ‘Cassie needs to do that, you know.”

”Do what, sir?”

A tired expression began to cross his features until it got to the paralyzed side and stopped. ”Lieutenant, I had a stroke, but I’ve no reason to think your perceptions are impaired.”

I looked at Duy Tranh, who now was smiling in a bemused sort of way.

The Skipper said, ”It’s all right for you to find Cassie attractive. I certainly do.”

”Colonel-”

”The vamping and flirting is her way of reasserting her beauty, her desirability, since I can’t offer her any… tangible confirmation on that score anymore.”

”Yes, sir.”

A nod, as though we’d gotten an awkward item off his agenda. ”Well, what have you found out?”

I summarized my talks with the people at the Held house.

Helides heard me out before saying, ”Beyond Kalil Biggs having made more than one video of Veronica, you haven’t found much.”

”Just that your party guests’ alibis are pretty vague.”

”Which the police already established.” A change in tone, even through the stroke damage to his voice. ”What about Cornel Radescu?”

I glanced at Duy Tranh, but now he was studying the rug. ”Lieutenant?”

”Sorry, I-”

”Is there a reason you keep checking with Duy before answering some of my questions?”

”I don’t think so, Colonel.”

”Then continue your report please. To me.”

”Yes, sir. I wasn’t able to ask Radescu all the questions I had for him.”

”Why not?”

”We were interrupted.”

The tired expression again crossed half his face before, ”I understand.”

I waited, and he did, too.

Finally, I said, ”Dr. Forbes was very insightful regarding David.”

”Henry is paid well to be so. I take it you’re ready to speak with my son now?”

”I am.”

Nicolas Helides turned his head toward Tranh. ”Duy, if you would, please?”

”Certainly, Colonel.”

As Duy Tranh led me down a first-floor corridor, I said, ”How was Veronica as a student?”

He stiffened in front of me, then stopped. ”Ungifted. And difficult, as I already have mentioned.”

”Except I don’t recall your mentioning that you were tutoring her.”

”Perhaps because you never asked.”

Tranh began walking again.

I fell in behind him. ”No problems between Veronica and you?”

”None beyond her boredom with any subject not rooted in popular music. And my frustration in trying to provide her the sort of education the Colonel afforded me.”

”So you could sort of thank him, indirectly.”

”As I have expressed to him many times, in both word and deed.” Tranh stopped at a closed door. ”This is David’s suite, Mr. Cuddy.”

We’d reached a part of the house near the pool. I didn’t hear anything from the other side of the door.

”Are you sure he’s in there?”

”Yes. I checked the kitchen when I thought I was letting you in that way. He hasn’t eaten yet.”

”How can you be sure?”

”I know David rather well. He operates on a very different schedule.”

From the way Duy Tranh spoke that last word, he might just as well have said, ”dimension.”

”You are my father’s detective.”

I’d used the handle to push in the door after my knock brought a quavering, ”It is open.” The living room area was dimly lit, except for a bright snake-neck lamp over computer equipment that looked as elaborate as what I’d seen in Tranh’s suite the night before. The rest of the furnishings seemed spartan at best, like a church serving a poor congregation.

And no sign of David Helides.

The same stilted voice said, ”If you would not mind, please come into the bedroom.”

I moved left, around a divider in the form of a tall cabinet of bookshelves. Most of the titles suggested computer manuals, and just past the divider, I saw the foot of an unmade bed. The light—from subtly recessed bulbs inside the hung ceiling—was slightly better than in the living area. Or maybe my eyes were just adjusting.

On the bed lay a figure in the fetal position, facing me. His left hand was palm-up under his right knee, his right hand palm-down atop his left knee. David Helides wore navy-blue sweatpants, the ankle bands pulled down over his toes, like a child’s jammies. A sweatshirt, also navy, covered his torso, and the hood shrouded his head, as though he’d just worked out and was afraid of getting a chill despite the shaggy hair. Helides’s eyes, recessed deep under his brow, were squinched closed in a face that was thirty-three going on seventy.

”I am sorry,” he said, ”but it is difficult for me to keep my eyes open when it is not necessary to see. Please take the computer chair. It is comfortable.”

His voice still quavered, if anything more on this longest passage from him. The tone was apersonal, like the electronic speech of a... computer.

I dragged the chair over to a conversational distance from Helides, then sat in it. ”I appreciate your seeing me at all.”

His eyes opened for just a moment, dull and listless, then closed again with a flutter that took a little longer to dissipate. ”I saw you yesterday.”

”Briefly.”

The lips changed position, but less like a smile and more like a person trying to get comfortable, though the rest of his body stayed perfectly still. ”I am sorry I ran from you, but a stranger in the house... a disruption is...”

I thought of Dr. Henry Forbes and his uncompleted sentences. ”There are some questions I’d like to ask you.”

”I know.”

Time to test the waters. ”How do you know?”

The eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. ”My father... Dr. Forbes...”

”I’ve spoken with your doctor.”

A sigh, perhaps of relief. ”Then you know about... my condition.”

”Yes, but if you don’t mind talking about it, I’d—”

”It is all I want to talk about. Dr. Forbes did not tell you that?”

”No, he didn’t.”

Another sigh, this time more of resignation. ”There are many symptoms of severe, clinical depression. Lack of appetite, no enjoyment in the doing of pleasurable things, contemplation of... suicide. But that is nothing compared to what happens in the brain itself. I have read many people’s description of it. Some call it a raging storm, others a deep fog. For me, depression is like the images of a slot machine I have seen on the Internet.”

”A slot machine?”

”Yes, where the different wheels are constantly whirring past the little windows. Well, if my eyes are those windows it is only for short bursts each day that all the lemons line up. Except for those times, when I can concentrate on something else, the depression is my sole source of identity. It is... me.”

”Mr. Helides—”

”David, please. It is... easier on the mind.”

I realized I hadn’t introduced myself. ”I’m John Cuddy, David. Use whichever name you like.”

”John would be less... authoritarian for me.” Clinically depressed he might be, but, like Kalil Biggs, not stupid behind his disability. ”You understand that I have to ask you about Veronica.”

I expected a withdrawal of some kind, but instead Helides did almost smile this time. ”You use her real name.”

”Yes.”

”Most of the others didn’t. They called her by her ‘stage’ name.”

”That’s because I think of her as a real person, not a rock singer.”

”I, too.”

A single tear rolled from under his right eyelid and was channeled by his nose. I thought of Jeanette Held’s similar reaction. Then Helides brought his left hand up quickly to whip past both closed eyes before retreating back beneath his right knee.

”David, I’m told you and Veronica used to play on the computer together.”

”Yes. I am quite interested in botany, as Dr. Forbes must also have told you.”

”He did.”

Because of Helides’s position on the bed, his head nodded laterally on the pillow. ”I study the true plants of Florida.”

If he wanted to talk about them, I thought it might be a good way to get him to open up. ”The true plants, you say?”

”The indigenous ones. Species like the gumbo-limbo, with its grotesquely beautiful, gnarled trunks and red bark that peels like a sunburned tourist. The Caloosa Indians began using the gummy sap from the tree a millennium ago to catch birds who might land on the limbs. The sapodilla tree, with its seedy fruit the size of a baseball, like sandy candy. The torchwood tree, whose resin will burn. Those species introduced by man—like the punk tree, the pepper, the Australian pine—are forcing out the indigenous ones because these immigrants proliferate easily and grow with no need for human care.”

Helides had been speaking in an increasingly stronger voice, then suddenly fell silent. When he opened his mouth again, the quaver was back. ”But I bore you.”

”Not at all.”

”And I am just practicing ‘avoidance,’ as Dr. Forbes would call it.”

”Avoidance?”

”Avoiding what is unpleasant to me by talking about that which I find interesting, and... safe.”

”Let’s stay with the pleasant a little longer. Veronica and you enjoyed working with your computer?”

”Yes.” A gurgle that almost amounted to a laugh. ”She was not very interested in botany, I must say. But I showed her how to access the Internet and the Web. I also would buy her computer games, and she would play them here, with me.”

”You bought her these games?”

”My father gives me an allowance for such indulgences.”

I didn’t say anything right away.

Helides said it for me. ”John, do not be embarrassed by your question. Or for me. I am long past any... pride of independence in my life.”

I took a breath. ”When you and Veronica were together, did she ever talk with you about
her
life?”

His lips grew thinner. ”She tried to... cheer me up, I think in exchange for my showing her more computer tricks.”

”In exchange.”

”Veronica was not a generous girl, John. She... bartered for what she wanted.”

Same assessment as I’d gotten from others. ”But did Veronica talk with you about what she was doing in her life, maybe who or what she was afraid of?”