“I’m sorry,” I told her and we followed her through straight to the back of the house across white marbled floors into a sitting room that overlooked more extensive gardens and the river.
“Oh, it’s just nostalgia on my part,” she said.“But I know it’s for the best.And maybe going through all Henry’s things has made me a bit maudlin.”
Twenty or so banker’s boxes stood along the wall, three of them open, the lids set aside in a neat stack.
She’d set out a silver tray on a low table.Tea, three cups, and a plate of shortbread.The performance of hospitality from a woman who needed something to do with her hands.
“Sit, please.”She poured without asking whether we wanted it, and her hand was steady, which told me she’d done her crying earlier.“I started in on these around four this morning.I couldn’t sleep.I’ve made a mess of any order they were in, I’m afraid.”
“Is this all from Henry’s office?”Dash asked.
“His home office and his office at the clinic,” she said.“Henry lived for his work.Everything that was important to him was in one of the two places.After Charlotte died, he rarely used the rest of the house except for the bedroom to sleep and the kitchen to eat.I had an estate sale shortly after he passed and got rid of his clothes and the furniture.But Joseph and I packed up his office.I didn’t go through anything then.It was too painful.So we packed everything and put it in storage.”
I looked at the boxes and felt the size of the thing settle on me.And then I thought about the whiskey decanter and glasses that were in the crime-scene photos and wondered if she’d packed those as well.
“Do you mind if we take these with us?”Dash asked.
“Of course not,” Josephine said.“It’s time someone went through everything.And I’m not that person.It’s still painful to see his handwriting or the little reminders he always made for himself.He and I were very close.”
“We’ll take good care of it,” Dash assured her.“These boxes will never fit in the car.”He already had his phone out.“Let me get a couple of deputies out here to transport.”He stepped toward the windows to make the call.
I sat back down across from Josephine.
“I do want to ask you about the woman Henry was seeing.”
“I told you everything I know about her,” she said.
“You did,” I agreed.“You said he called you the evening he died.That he’d found out something unforgivable about a person he trusted, and that he meant to put it right.”
“Yes.”
“And in that same call, he told you he’d met someone.Those are two big things in one phone call.The unforgivable thing and a new love interest.Did they feel connected when he said them?”
Josephine was quiet a moment.
“Oh,” she said.“I see what you’re asking.He was obviously upset and anxious when he was telling me someone he trusted did something unforgiveable.Those are heavy words, especially for Henry.He was a good Christian man, and he wasn’t one to hold a grudge.I knew whatever betrayal had occurred must have been very serious.
“But something changed when he started talking about us all getting together for dinner.He was happy.”She sighed.“Hopeful.I hadn’t heard that quality in his voice in quite some time.I couldn’t wait to meet the woman who’d given that back to him.”
“That’s a good memory,” I said.
“Yes, and a man who is happy and hopeful doesn’t kill himself just a short time later.”
“No,” I said.“He doesn’t.”
Dash came back from the windows and sat onto the sofa beside me.“I know you don’t have a name for her.But think back on that call.Did Henry give you any details about her?Even something that seemed like nothing at the time.”
“You think I haven’t gone over that call until I’ve worn it smooth?”Josephine turned her cup a slow quarter-turn in its saucer.“Every investigator I hired had me recite it word for word, and not one of them ever did a thing with it.After a while you start to feel foolish, telling the same story to people who’ve already decided it’s nothing.”
“Those men were listening for a confession or a name,” I said.“Something to close a file.I’m listening for who Henry was like.And you knew him better than anyone.Humor us.”
She studied me a moment, and some of the starch went out of her shoulders.
“He said she understood the hours,” she said finally.“I asked what he meant, and he laughed and told me she didn’t fuss when he had to work late or when he was out of the country doing charitable work.”She lifted one shoulder.“He said she had her own career that kept her busy, and the hardest thing was finding time when their schedules aligned.”
The doorbell rang and I realized it must be the deputies here to haul the boxes.Dash let them in and they were quick about getting the boxes loaded into the backs of the department-issued Tahoes.
“Will you let me know if you find anything?”she asked as she walked us to the door.
