Run You Down (Rebekah Roberts #2)(61)

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and as I am spitting into the sink I feel a kind of whoosh and suck in my ear. The ringing is gone. “Huh,” I say out loud, looking at myself in the mirror. The water sounds loud, like it’s pouring into my brain instead of the sink. For a moment I am dizzy. I close my eyes and shake my head, knocking my jaw around, opening my mouth extra wide, and hearing the pop of cartilage in my ear. The relief is powerful. Two months of tinnitus, gone, just like that.

I take out my notebook and dial Levi, who picks up after several rings.

“Yes?”

“Levi,” I say, “hi. This is Rebekah. From the Tribune.”

“Hello.”

“How are you?”

“Things have been difficult with Pessie’s family since your article came out. They are very angry.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It is not your fault. I am the one that came to you.”

“Right,” I say. “Do you have a minute to talk? I’ve learned a few things that I thought you might want to know, especially before I put them in the newspaper.”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay, well, first of all it seems like Pessie was still pretty close with her ex, Sam Kagan.” I wait for a response, but Levi is silent. “I don’t know how often they saw each other, but I talked to a girl who used to live with Sam up in Greene County and she said she’d seen Pessie several times, including right after Sam came home from prison.”

“He was in prison?”

“Yes,” I say. “For drugs, I think. It sounds like he was pretty troubled. I spoke with a man who grew up in Roseville, and he told me that Sam had been a victim of … abuse.”

“Abuse?”

“Sexual abuse.”

“I see.”

“Did Pessie ever mention anything about that?”

“No,” he says. “But several months ago there was a story in the news about a Chassidish man in Brooklyn who was sentenced to life in prison for sexual abuse. Pessie followed the case very closely. Most of the people in the community thought the sentence was too harsh. Some people said the boy who testified was lying. We had some of her family over for Shabbos dinner just after the trial ended and there was a big argument. Pessie’s mother said that the boy was a drug addict and mentally ill and that she was donating money to the fund to defend the man in an appeal. Pessie screamed at her. I had never seen her so upset. She threw her parents out of the apartment and said that if they gave the man their money she never wanted to see them again. She said she would keep Chaim from them. I told her she was overreacting. I told her she should apologize to her mother.” He exhales. “No one mentioned a word about this Sam. Nothing!”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because nothing else seems appropriate.

“Was she having an affair with him?”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “Apparently he’s gay.”

A pause. Levi lowers his voice. “Pessie once asked me if I knew anyone who was gay. I told her yes. My oldest brother. She asked if I ever saw him, and I said no, although that wasn’t because I didn’t want to—he joined the IDF when he was eighteen and after his service he moved to Indonesia. But we wrote letters, and I still get an e-mail from him now and then. She asked if I thought it was his fault that he was gay. I said I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure how she felt about it and I didn’t want her to think I was too … tolerant. Pessie’s family is more conservative than mine and you have to be careful. I thought maybe she was testing me. I don’t know why I did not just ask her.”

“Did she ever mention anything about work? I spoke with one of the women at the clothing store who said a man came in and they had a big argument. I think it’s possible it was Sam.”

“When was this?”

“The woman said it was about a week before she died.”

Levi sighs. “My work has been very demanding over the past several months. The company I work for is opening a location in Chicago and I have been traveling back and forth to supervise. The whole situation was very stressful and when I was home we mostly talked about Chaim, and made arrangements for when I was away again. I did not think the traveling would last for long. I thought it was a period we had to get through. And Pessie never complained. She seemed to be doing much better. She took care of everything at home. When something was broken she knew who to call to get it fixed. She never talked about her work and I did not ask. When I came home she seemed pleased to see me, but…” He hesitates a moment, then exhales heavily. “I thought she was happy with our life, but there was so much we did not know about each other. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted her to tell me what she thought. I assumed that would come with time. I never imagined our time was nearly up.”

I tell Levi that I will keep him informed as I continue reporting and he thanks me for taking an interest in his wife’s death. I type up what Levi said and start drafting a new article with the headline, “Dead Roseville Mother’s Secret Life.” I figure it’s worth at least sending to Larry since I don’t have anything from the State Police yet. I am a paragraph in when Saul calls.

“Can you pick me up the train station in Poughkeepsie this afternoon?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say. “Did you get my message?”