Lady in the Lake(25)
He wanted to be a cipher, Maddie realized. He was going to disappear from her life as suddenly and immediately as he had appeared in it. Sometimes, it seemed to her as if they were like one of those math problems from Seth’s homework: A westbound train leaves Baltimore at 6 p.m., traveling 100 mph, while an eastbound train departs Chicago at 8 p.m. Chicago time, traveling 120 mph. If there are 720 miles between those two cities, when will they pass each other?
What happens if those trains park on a siding for a while? Who will notice, who will know? Will the trains be different when their journeys resume?
Ferdie wanted to move up. He wanted to be a detective, and not in narcotics, as an undercover. The department, segregated for so long, was rumored to be on the verge of changing. There would be opportunities soon.
“You’re good,” she had said. “I’m sure you’ll make it.”
He’d laughed. “It’s not just about being good. They’re going to be plugging people in, try to improve the numbers fast. Being good won’t be enough. I have to be lucky.”
So Ferdie was barreling into Baltimore’s Penn Station at the fastest speed possible, whatever that was. Whereas Maddie was moseying along, unsure of where she wanted to go. Right now, she couldn’t even decide if she wanted to buy some fabric for summer dresses, these gorgeous Marimekko prints she had seen at a boutique. Very cutting-edge for Baltimore, although Jackie Kennedy had been photographed wearing the label’s clothes years ago, early in her husband’s presidency. But the new patterns were bolder, bigger. Maddie had been studying them wistfully at a place called the Store Ltd., at Cross Keys, the new gated community on the North Side, sort of a village within Baltimore. Maddie liked Cross Keys. Maybe she would live there when she and Milton finally settled everything.
The fabric wasn’t the only thing to covet at the Store Ltd. The owner made amazing jewelry. So simple—deft curves of silver, striking shapes, gems used sparingly, if at all. And yet so expensive. This was the future, sleek and streamlined. Looking at that jewelry, Maddie wanted to cut her hair as short as possible, but Ferdie would have objected. Ah well, there would be time enough to cut her hair. And he couldn’t object to her getting her ears pierced, could he?
Sitting on her fire escape, she fingered her lobes, stretched thin from years of heavy clip-ons, some probably valuable. She had left most of her jewelry at the house, in what she believed was a show of good faith. But perhaps that had misled Milton and Seth, perhaps they were angry at her because they believed she would quickly tire of this odd experiment and return to them. She had never meant to leave Seth, of course. She had thought he would want to join this new life, too. Given her experience trying to sell her engagement ring, she wouldn’t bother to see what she could get for those old things. But she wanted to get her ears pierced. She pulled out the yellow pages and found a jeweler up in Pikesville that would do it for the price of the fourteen-karat earrings she would have to wear until her ears healed.
She went straight from Pikesville to the Store, to stare lovingly at the Betty Cooke creations she could not afford. The saleslady, recognizing her from the previous visit, brought out new bolts of Marimekko.
“I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t,” Maddie said. There was a blue floral with black tones, perfect for her coloring. And spring was coming. She took six yards, then found a pattern for a simple halter dress, so simple she probably could have run it up herself if she had a machine. But that, too, was back at Milton’s. She hated to ask him for it. She didn’t want anything from him, except money.
She bought an apple at the little grocery across from the Store, walked the curving pathways of Cross Keys, studied the apartments and town houses. Eventually, she found herself near the tennis barn. What would have happened if Milton hadn’t taken up tennis, brought Wally Weiss to their home? Maddie probably would not have moved out, not when she did. And if she hadn’t moved out, she wouldn’t have been harangued by her mother that day and she wouldn’t have found the body of Tessie Fine. She knew it was a logical fallacy to think that meant Tessie never would have been found, but she would not have been found that day, the search had not yet gone that far afield. Maddie had done something important; Maddie was important. Even if no one knew it.
And having been important, even if no one knew it, created a taste. She wanted to matter. She wanted the world to be different because she had been born. Being Seth’s mother wasn’t enough. Even if he went on to be the first Jewish president of the United States or a doctor who cured cancer, his accomplishments wouldn’t address this terrible yearning. She needed something for herself, beyond Ferdie and her bedroom overlooking the cathedral.
She wished she could talk to the man who had done it. She would have liked to understand him in a way that she didn’t think was important to the police. They didn’t care why he had killed, only that he would be behind bars, incapable of hurting other children. But if Maddie were Tessie Fine’s mother, she would want to know more. It all felt so unfinished.
Maybe she could talk to the man who had done it. Not talk—correspond. Write him a letter, encourage him to confide, reveal to him the bond they shared, the body of Tessie Fine.
On her way back to her apartment, she got off the bus two stops early and visited a stationer’s on Charles Street.
She took the box of stationery to the fire escape, despite the anemic light and cool breeze. Simple cream vellum, no time for monograms. Besides, what initials would she use? She went through several drafts in a notebook, then committed to the page in front of her, covering it with her fine, bold handwriting.