What a Week!

As the girls strutted and pirouetted in their few ounces of fabric, I applauded loudly. Then they both curtsied, and the show was over. They ran down the hall, to return soon in shorts and T shirts. Mel acted confused and a little ditsy, as she fussed, "Where is he? My boyfriend said he'd be right here to pick me up when the show ended. Oh, I hope he's not late."

Anita was in on the act, too. She asked, "What's his name?"

"Killer. He just got home last week. He was in for five years."

"In the Army?"

"No, the penitentiary. But of course, he was really innocent. I know that for sure."

"How did you find that out?"

"Oh, I asked him and he told me."

By then they just cracked up, and ran laughing to where I was sitting and smothered me with kisses. "Oh, Pete," said Mel, "you've got two super models who love you so much. How do you handle it without getting conceited?"

"It takes a lot of humility. And when it comes to humility, I'm the best there is."

We joked around for a few minutes, and then Mel said, "I'm going to put out dishes of pretzels and chips and nuts. Who wants a drink?"

"You handle the snack foods and I'll haul the drinks. Sis?"

"What kind of beer do you have?"

"I don't know. Come on out here with me and you can pick one."

"What a gracious host. What are you having, Mel?"

"A glass of white wine. Whatever kind is open."

"All right, cancel my beer and I'll have white wine, too. Go on, Bro, wait on us. Remember super models expect to be pampered."

So it happened that in due course, the super models had white wine served to them and I had a bottle of Bud Light, to go with our snacks. We got settled comfortably and Mel said, "Anita, I'm curious about how you chose to be a PI. I don't mean that there's anything wrong with being one, but it's pretty unusual for a woman to go into that line of work. Or is it? I know so little about it."

"Well, we have to go way back. I fell in love with Harry when we were eighteen. We got married in our early twenties, and we didn't wait long to start our family. While I was expecting Andy I had some minor difficulties and the doctor recommended that I quit my job - I worked in an accounting firm - and stay home. That was in my fourth month. So for five and a half months of my pregnancy I was home all day, every day, and bored out of my mind. I used to play cards on Harry's computer, and look up things on Wikipedia, and I found sites where there were stories that I could read, and everything else you can do on the Internet. Then, because I was pretty handy with a computer from all the things I'd done at work, I started to look into various professions, thinking that maybe I could pick out something that I could do later on, when the kids were in school. It was like asking a kid, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" But talk about planning ahead! I was in the late months of my first pregnancy, and I was already planning what I might do after we had this kid plus two or three more, and the youngest was old enough to start school. The way our kids came along, that was ten years away! But when you're bored you do strange things.

"I loved the weekends, when Harry would be home with me. Monday mornings were awful, because he'd be up around five and out of the house at six. So one Monday I came up with a challenge. I'd do a computer search of the yellow pages on the Internet, and find all the kinds of jobs that they had listed. This seems comical now, because today I could do the whole thing in a couple of minutes, with CPU time of seconds. What I did was I took a scan of categories and then did a manual screen of the list, because the yellow pages list businesses, and some of the businesses aren't occupations. Like Party Shops, for example. All that takes is any damn fool buying party goods at wholesale and stocking them in a shop, then selling them over the counter at retail. Big deal. But Engineers and Accountants and Land Surveyors and stuff like that, they were occupations that I kept in my list. There are a lot of listings for all sorts of restaurants, and I skipped all of them. Same for all sorts of lawyers and doctors, because they have to go to school for a long time and then go through long apprenticeships. Anyway, I wound up with a list of things that regular people can do. I did this in the yellow pages for Indianapolis, and then did the same thing on all the yellow pages for the greater Chicago area.

"It seemed to me that some cities are overloaded with some occupations, while in other cities they may be in short supply, and I'd be smart to get into a line of work that wasn't crowded in Lafayette, where we lived. But how do you find out which ones they are? Well, for any city you can find out the population from the last census, and you can get those numbers on the internet. It was easy to take my scan results and find out how many of each kind of occupation there were per ten thousand people in a city. I did this with a bunch of occupations, including PI's. The idea of being a PI seemed interesting because I'd never known one. I don't remember the numbers any more, but I calculated the numbers for Indianapolis and Chicago, and averaging them. I figured that would be sort of a baseline. Then I found out how many there were in Lafayette and West Lafayette, and we were way below the average. I mean, it was pathetic. Like the big cities had ten or fifteen times as many PI's per ten thousand residents as we did. So I tucked that fact away. And so it went.

"Then I sat down and tried to learn what I could about the scarcest ten professions, and only a few of them looked as if they could be practiced at home. But I started reading up on PI's and the more I learned, the more I saw that you could divide it into two kinds of work, leg work and desk work. So I had my answer. I'd be a licensed PI and do the desk work part of it. By the time Andy was born I had my future mostly planned - where I'd go to school to learn how to do it, how tough the state licensing exam was, all about the laws regulating what PI's do and how they're allowed to do it, textbooks that I could buy and read at my leisure while the baby napped, special equipment that was needed, the whole bit. I shoveled all those facts into a business plan and set it aside. By the time Carl was in first grade and I finally did go to school, I could just about pass the final exams the day I entered. So I decided that I'd dig down deep and find everything the teachers knew that I couldn't get from a book, and that I'd work hard to get the best grades that the school had ever handed out. And that's what I did. I was like you, Mel, a real curve buster.

"One thing I learned was how important computers were becoming in the PI business. What a setup! I had a brilliant scholastic record - well, in the PI courses, not in my regular college courses - and I had a husband who was starting to make big bucks so I could afford the best computers any PI ever had. And all this time the divorce rate was going nowhere but up, and a lot of divorces means a lot of work for PI's.

"So that's how it all happened. Boredom, education, cold blooded planning, and a husband with fantastic earning power. Those were my keys to success. Then I added one more, advertising. At first, all over Indiana. Later, Illinois as well. Illinois was a gold mine, it turned out. I looked into Kentucky and Ohio, but they aren't good markets for PI's because they have too many honest people. For the rest of the country, I placed classified ads in the trade journals.

"I have to add one other comment. I try to do all the routine management functions by computer. But the real management of my business, like looking at trends, making decisions on capital investments, the real hands-on stuff, that takes more of my time than my computer searches. No matter how much you automate your office, a successful business needs you to spend a lot of hands on time paying attention to the details."

Mel was fascinated by the whole story. I couldn't imagine what was going through her head, but I already had her tagged as a planner. What was she planning? Well, she perked up every time anything was said about raising kids. And she seemed to idolize Anita. Put those tidbits of information into a jar and shake vigorously and what comes out? Not a clue! Maybe a woman could make sense out of it. I'm only a guy.

That night Mel was as mellow as ever in bed. She wanted to snuggle and talk, and she was happy. Really happy, through and through, for the first time since I found her sitting in my SUV. I was struck by the fact that Anita flew here specifically to meet and investigate Mel, but most of their time together was spent with Mel investigating Anita. I tried to steer the conversation around so I could learn more about this, and finally she made the whole thing clear.

"Look at what you had that I never had, a big sister. The more I get to know Anita and hear her stories about you and her, the more I realize what I've been missing. And best of all, she's willing to be like a sister to me. Outside of you, I don't think there's anybody that I feel closer to. She's so smart, and she's learned so much from her investigations. I'm in awe of her. And I know that she loves me, and I love her.

"So by getting you, I get her too, like a package deal. When that asshole stole my purse, I felt so alone, like the saddest, most pathetic orphan since Oliver Twist. But no more! Now I'm part of a family, with a brother and sister to love me and look out for me and advise me and keep me out of trouble. And besides, the big brother is really my husband so on top of everything else, we can fuck each other's brains out. How could things have worked out so well, so quickly? Oh, you're such a wonderful man, Pete. And you've made me so happy!"

"Did you say that I'm your husband?"

"Yes, of course. Oh, we'll go through the social niceties, like asking my parents for their blessing, and buying a ring, and you kneeling at my feet, and a wedding. All of that. I don't want Mom and Dad to feel left out. But all that just confirms what we already know. The mystery is long gone, and you and I are as good as married. What's left? The decision about when to start a family? When you kidded me about that, I realized that deep down you must feel the same way I do. We'll raise our kids, love 'em, educate 'em, launch 'em into the real world out there, and live happily ever after.

"I'd be impatient to get the ritual part over with if I weren't so confident in what lies ahead. I want to savor every day along the way, not rush through any of it, not skip over a single moment. We'll be so good for each other that we'll look back and wonder how we ever lived at all before that magical day when my purse got snatched, and you took that long walk to get Celia out of your system."

We wrapped each other up in a gentle hug, and over and over we recited our mantra, "I love you." Gradually we said less with words and more with our bodies, and when we drifted off to sleep it'd all been said, one way or another.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

TUESDAY MORNING

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Nobody had told me that the girls bought matching shorty pajamas. Another thing they hadn't mentioned was buying those little kids' party things that unroll out straight when you blow on them, and they emit a screech.

I slept like a log and didn't wake up when Mel snuck out of bed and got together with her new big sister. So I was unprepared when the two of them came to wake me up, carrying two breakfast trays, wearing party hats, and blowing those things in my ear. It was unreal enough to make me completely disoriented, not knowing what was going on or even where I was. I mean, I know my own bed and bedroom but nothing like this ever happened there, so what kind of a place could this be?

The conspirators had such a good laugh at me that they had to set the trays down on the floor. Then they climbed up onto me and hugged and kissed me, and I got a little better understanding of what Mel was telling me, about our big, close, loving family.

I dashed to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of shorts along the way. Then I was treated to a fantastic breakfast, with some of that wonderful coffee that only my Mel knows how to make. My Mel. I like that. My mellow Mel. My marvelous Mel.

The girls were cleaning up the kitchen and I had just finished putting grownup clothes on, when the phone rang. Detective Vincent's calm voice was like a reminder that there was still a real world out there, "We have the warrant all approved, and I've put together a search party. We're meeting at 1226 at ten."

"Good. We'll all be there. See you soon."

We all scurried to get ready and be at 1226 a little before ten. Anita had some experience with these things, and she mentioned that we needed to stay out of the way of the police team, but be available to answer any questions they might have about things they found. Detective Vincent said that they'd go through the living room first and then we could sit in there and wait to see what happened. Rudy Berg went upstairs with three uniformed policemen. They were planning to search the upstairs rooms and attic while he tore out the false wall. I could see that they'd done this sort of thing before. They weren't at all excited about it, and they didn't say a whole lot, just went about their work. Once more I was struck by the competence and efficiency of the police, and how different the real ones are from the ones you see on television crime shows.

Clearing the living room took only about five minutes, but when we went in and sat, it felt sort of funny. With strangers wandering through the house, we didn't feel right about expressing personal thoughts and feelings, and of course we were eager to know the secret of Mel's closet. It seemed pointless to talk about the weather or politics or the economy, three subjects that seemed to fit the old saw that everybody talks about it but nobody does anything about it. Who said that? Mark Twain? Will Rogers? So what little conversation we had, came in small snippets.

We were each casting about for something worth talking about when Detective Vincent came into the room and asked Melanie, "How long have you and your parents lived in this house?"

"The closing was in March, and they moved here from Minneapolis in April, after the snow was gone up there. The lease on my apartment was up at the end of May and that's when I moved in here. Why do you ask?"

"We've found boxes of papers in the attic. We'll take them downtown and look through them. Then there are boxes of things, household objects, that seem to be more recent, probably belonging to your parents. We're trying to differentiate according to how much dust is on the boxes, and I think we've got it right. Have you ever gone into the attic?"

"No, I didn't have anything to put up there. I was living in a college dorm until I moved to Arizona, so I didn't have much accumulated junk."

"That's about what I figured. It looks as if your parents shoved all the old boxes back away from the stairway, and set all their stuff closer to the stairs, and that pretty well matches up with the amount of dust on them. And we could see places on the floor where sliding the boxes had scraped pathways in the dust on the floor. Your parents may be glad to see that we've hauled away all of those old boxes from earlier owners. If we made a mistake and took a box that's really theirs, we'll bring it back.

After we've looked through the boxes from previous owners, we'll let your parents look it all over. Anything that they want to keep, they can have. Anything that's not related to a crime is really theirs, since they bought it with the house. But I doubt that there'll be any million dollar antiques in there."

"Any progress on the closet?"

"Rudy's working on it. He's being very careful not to damage anything behind that false wall as he removes it. A few minutes and we ought to be in there."

Sure enough, he was back just a little later. "We're about to expose the secret treasure. I'd like you, Melanie, to come up and sit in the bedroom, to witness what we take out. Pete, you ought to be with her because there might be something that's not nice to look at, and Anita, you might as well join them instead of sitting down here all alone. So come on up. You can all sit on the bed."

All the furniture except the bed had been taken out of the room. I sat closest to the closet, so I'd get the first look at whatever they found and could brace Mel for it. She sat next to me, with Anita next to her. Rudy and a detective named Abrams were in the closet, wearing white plastic coveralls and face masks because of the dust. Rudy was pulling the drywall out in pieces, and piling it in the other end of the closet. He turned and said to Vincent, "There's newspaper covering whatever's in there."

"From what year?"

"We'll keep it intact for your lab people, but the dates I've seen so far are all 1995." He and the detective took out the paper carefully, and Rudy set it on top of the debris from the wall. Then Detective Abrams lifted a cloth bag and set it on the closet floor in front of the doorway. Vincent pounced on it, taking pictures and then opening it carefully.

Vincent, squatting with his back toward us, lifted a bundle of bills with a paper band around it in his gloved hand, and held it up above his head so we could see it. "A bunch of these, and nothing else in the bag. We'll look it all over downtown, but before we put this whole thing into our own evidence bag we'll weigh it, and your receipt will note the weight. Until your representative gets here, I'll keep it here in plain sight."

I took out my phone and called Seth Warren, Professor Sanger's attorney. I explained about the bag of cash, and asked him to send somebody to babysit it until it could all be counted and documented, and he said he'd send a paralegal over right away. Then I turned my attention back to the closet. Rudy called out, "There's something else here, wrapped in a cloth that looks like a bedsheet. Look at it before we try to move it. It's sort of wedged in between the walls."

Rudy and Abrams stepped out and Vincent went in. He called out to Rudy for a utility knife. A few minutes later he came to the doorway. "There's a body in here, human, looks to me like a man. If you want to see it, come over here and I'll show you."

"No thank you," said Mel, "I'd rather not look. I'd have nothing to gain, and a breakfast to lose."

"All right. I'll get somebody to escort you back to the living room."

Just then a uniformed policeman stuck his head in the bedroom doorway. "There's a paralegal here to represent Miss Sanger. Do you want him in there?"

"Good timing, Norm. Send him in here, and then you can escort my friends down to the living room."

"Will do. Right this way, please."

This time when we got to the living room we had plenty to talk about. Detective Vincent came in after a few minutes. His clothes were marked up with white plaster dust, plus dark colored dust that I didn't want to ask about. He paused and looked at his arms and legs. "I should've put on coveralls but I was too anxious to see what was in there. What a mess! I'll get bawled out by my fiancée, like a high school kid. Then when my dry cleaner sees this mess, I'll get scolded all over again. Eight years on the street and ten as a detective, and I still mess up my clothes by being impatient. Talk about a slow learner!

"Let me explain what will happen now. Your paralegal will put his own seal on the money bag and ride downtown with it. I'm sure we're talking many thousands there, but I have no idea how many thousands. We'll bring in a man from a bank and lock him in a room with our tech, another witness from the detective bureau, a witness from the DA's office, and your paralegal. If the bundles are consecutive numbers, they'll be recorded. Right there in that locked room, all of the bundles will be photographed and dusted for prints. Then the bundles will be opened and random bills will be dusted for prints and examined to make sure this isn't counterfeit. Finally the bills in each bundle will be counted and re-banded with our mark, and of course the value will all be totaled. It goes very slowly, and it will go on into the evening, I expect. But nothing will be assumed, and every tiny step will be documented and photographed."