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Authors: Joan; Barthel

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BOOK: A Death in Canaan
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K:

I just want to have him look at them, and then I think we'll get you out of here. I don't want to keep you here anymore. I've been looking at your eyes, and they're sort of sinking down.

P:

What's going to happen? Am I still going to be staying up at the barracks again, or are they going to let me go?

K:

Well, where could you stay?

P:

I've got two families—the Madows, they already offered, and—

K:

Well, we'll have to take that up with the investigators. I'll be right back.

The other family Peter meant was the Beligni family.

Jean and Aldo Beligni, their teen-aged sons Ricky and Paul, and their seven-year-old daughter Gina, lived on Furnace Hill Road in East Canaan, not far from the Madows on Locust Hill Road. The Beligni and Madow boys were friends. But their parents had little in common, and until Barbara died, they had never been in one another's houses.

The Belignis were thoroughly hometown people. Jean was a brisk, take-charge person. She had short hair with bangs, blue eyes that saw just about everything there was to see, and a habit of saying whatever was on her mind. She had studied nursing, but after she married and had children, she stayed home and kept the books for Aldo's well-drilling business. Jean was born a Speziale, one of the best-regarded and best-known families in their corner of Connecticut. The family prestige didn't have anything to do with money, though some Speziales acquired it. It had more to do with roots and character, cousins and politics. Jean's father Sam had been the town barber, a man so well-liked he was called “Sam Special.” When Sam's funeral procession went through town, all the shopkeepers along Main Street turned off their lights. Another Speziale, Jean's cousin John, who lived in Torrington, became a lawyer, and then was appointed a Superior Court judge.

Aldo had been born in the house on Furnace Hill Road and expected to die there too. Not that Aldo talked much about dying. In fact, he was an enormously cheerful man, with bright brown eyes and a way about him that suggested, somehow, that everything was going to be all right. He was an old-fashioned man who didn't drink or smoke and wouldn't even keep liquor in the house, because of the boys. He had had to drop out of school at age sixteen, but he never stopped reading. Philosophy was his favorite subject, and Kant was his favorite philosopher. But the most remarkable thing about Aldo was not that he was a philosophical well driller, but that for such a sturdy, old-fashioned, hardworking, churchgoing man, he was so popular with the teen-agers, with his sons and their friends. “The most terrible lesson I'm learning in Contemporary Problems is that my father is always right,” Ricky Beligni said. Peter Reilly liked Aldo a lot.

K:

Did you know your mother made a phone call last night? About nine-thirty, to Dr. Lavallo. She was discussing her condition—liver, or something …

P:

I hadn't heard whether the test came through.

K:

She called him at nine-thirty, which puts you home at almost the exact same time.

P:

That was when I left the Teen Center. I'm positive.

K:

I'm talking approximate. From what the doctor says, she was all alone when she called him, the way she was talking.

P:

How did she sound, did he say?

K:

No. Pete, I think you got a problem. And Jack feels the same way. We go strictly by the charts. And the charts say you hurt your mother last night.

P:

The thing is, I don't remember it.

K:

The charts don't say that, Pete. Did she have some fatal disease? Maybe what happened here was a mercy thing. Maybe she asked you to do something to her.

P:

No.

K:

They've found out you left the Teen Center before nine-thirty. Your mother hadn't been dead that long.

P:

She hadn't?

K:

She talked to the doctor about nine-thirty. That leaves a very short time, Pete. If you say you didn't do it, the person who did it would have had to be there when you arrived home.

P:

They told me they found the back door open. As much as I remember—and I think I remember all of it, I
believe
I remember all of it, I never went past the bedroom door, so I couldn't get to the back door.

K:

Maybe your mother left it open. But I think you got something on your mind, Peter, and you just don't know how to come out with it.

P:

Would that show you what I'm actually thinking right now?

K:

That shows me from your heart that you hurt your mother last night. How, I don't know.

P:

I don't know either.

K:

I'm trying to figure this out. If you came roaring into the yard, a Corvette is a car you go like hell with. My brother-in-law has one, and I know how he drives it. You come flying in with that damned thing, and you went over her with the car, and you panicked.

P:

I didn't, though. I don't remember it.

K:

Then why does the lie chart say you did?

P:

I don't know. I can't give you a definite answer.

K:

You don't know for sure if you did this thing, do you?

P:

I don't. No, I don't.

K:

Why?

P:

Well, your chart says I did. I still say I didn't.

K:

You're not sure, are you? Let's go over this thing again. Maybe we can bring it out of your subconscious, then we can get this straightened out and see what we can salvage out of this mess. You don't look like a violent person. Maybe, spur of the moment. Now, have you ever hit your mother in the past?

P:

Yes. Three months ago. It had something to do with fixing the car. I threw a flashlight. I didn't mean to throw it hard. It was a metal flashlight and it caught her on the shin.

K:

Did you throw it deliberately?

P:

Yes. Spur of the moment. But I realized I had done it and apologized for it.

K:

This thing is so violent. Maybe you don't want to remember.

P:

You've lost me now.

K:

The last time you hit your mother you hit her lightly. This time when you lost your temper it wasn't just a little bit. She is now dead. Maybe you're so ashamed of this thing …

P:

What about that question where you asked me about being ashamed?

K:

Not very much reaction. The big one is hurting her. I think this is possibly the whole thing here. It wasn't a deliberate thing. Something happened between you and your mother, and one thing led to another, and someway, you accidentally hurt her seriously.

P:

But how?

K:

I don't know, Peter. You were there; I wasn't.

P:

I wouldn't mind so much if they could prove I did it. But there's a doubt in my mind. I know consciously I didn't do it. Subconsciously, who knows?

K:

I think you're trying to eradicate it and not let your conscience say you did it.

P:

Would it definitely be me? Could it have been someone else?

K:

No way. From these reactions.

P:

Now I'm afraid, because I was so sure I didn't do it, you know what I mean? I want to go back to school. I don't have any place to go.

K:

This isn't the end of the world. As long as you don't get it straightened out in your mind, you'll never have a day of peace.

P:

I gotta get it straightened out right now.

K:

Right. Once we do that, we're halfway home. There's no doubt in my mind from these charts you did it. But why and how?

P:

That's what I don't know. If I did it, I don't remember it. What I told you is exactly how I remember it. Is there any way they can kind of pound it out of me?

K:

Peter!

P:

Well, not pound it out of me, but dig deeper into me.

K:

This is what we're trying to do here. And I think you can give me the answer if you want to. I think you're so ashamed, that if you tell me, you don't know what I'm going to say to you. You're so damned ashamed of last night that you're trying to just block it out of your mind. You just feel that by sitting here and denying it and denying it and denying it, that it's going to go away.

P:

I'm not purposely denying it. If I did it, I wish I knew I'd done it. I'd be more than happy to admit it if I knew it. If I could remember it. But I don't remember it.

K:

How are we going to solve this? What's your suggestion?

P:

I don't know. Another test would help. Find out what they found in the house. The thing is, I don't want to go into a mental hospital. I don't want to leave the people I know. I don't want to leave the band; we're starting to go professional.

K:

Is that what's worrying you, Peter? That you'll have to go into a mental hospital?

P:

The thing is, if I did it, I don't remember. I don't want to go into a mental hospital. I don't mind a session with a psychiatrist once a week, but I want to stay in the school I'm going to. But I'm stuck. I'm hung up. I don't remember.

K:

My charts say you remember this right now.

P:

But I don't. Can you fire this thing up and ask me again?

K:

No. I have enough now. I think our problem is that you don't want to remember. You're afraid of what's going to happen to you if you tell me the whole truth.

P:

I can't understand it. If it meant bringing my mother back right now, I don't remember it.

K:

You said three months ago you fired a flashlight at her. Have you done anything more serious? Tried to choke her, or hit her in the face?

P:

No, no. Absolutely not.

K:

So how do you think we're going to resolve this, Pete?

P:

We got to keep drilling at it. But I'd like to get some sleep.

K:

Do you want me to start yelling at you?

P:

No.

K:

Would you come back here and talk to me again?

P:

I'll be happy to come back anytime you want me to. If you want me to see a psychiatrist, except I don't have any money now.

K:

That's why I keep talking to you now. I think you almost remember.

P:

I don't know. I still don't remember anything. There's space in there now.

K:

Sit there and close your eyes and just relate your story again from the time you arrive in the yard with the Corvette.

P:

OK. I drive in the yard. Shut off the car. I remember shaking down the headlight. I put it in gear. Locked it up. I went in and yelled, “Mom, I'm home.” I looked up at the bed.

K:

Was the bed messed up, or just turned down?

P:

There was a sleeping bag on top of the blanket. She had the sleeping bag open. The bed lamp was on. I thought I saw her, you know what I mean? Then I did a double take.

K:

See what I mean?

P:

That's what could mess me up.

K:

This is probably where you flipped over. You probably
did
see your mother there. And the next thing, you see your mother on the floor. This is our gray area. You feel you saw her standing there.

P:

No, lying in bed.

K:

Oh, all right. Lying in bed.

P:

But I still don't remember.

K:

Would she have had the light on? Does she normally go to bed so early?

P:

As soon as the news is over, and it got too cold outside to read, she'd go to bed and read. Usually when she went to bed she wore all her clothes. It wasn't all that fancy as far as cleanliness went.

K:

Maybe this is the problem. Your friends' houses are nice and clean. You come home to a dirty house.

P:

That doesn't bother me that much.

K:

Maybe this turns you on. You know?

P:

I wish I could go out and have that cigarette now.

K:

I got a couple here. Let me get an ashtray.

P:

If I did do it, why don't I remember it?

K:

Because you mind is trying to—

P:

Block it out. I don't think I'm any dummy.

K:

Oh no. I don't think you're a dummy. I think something happened, and you're so goddamned ashamed, you're afraid to come out with it.

P:

Do you think I'm deliberately lying to you?

K:

Yeah, I do.

P:

I don't.

K:

I feel you could tell me right now exactly how your mother died. The way I read the report, something violent had to occur between you and her.

P:

It had to happen between her and I?

K:

Especially with the broken legs. She had to be hit with something, right? Or it could be a complete goddamn accident and you hit her with your car. Maybe with this ailment she had, she had fallen down, and you hit her with the car, and you panicked.

P:

Are my footprints going into the bedroom there?

K:

I understand they have some in blood.

P:

Blood? In my shoe marks?

K:

Well, this takes a while to check out. This isn't magic.

P:

When I fell asleep this morning, I dreamed I hadn't gone to the Teen Center, I stayed home, and somebody came into the house, and I was trying to protect her. I don't remember that clearly either, but I want to find out. I'm more than willing to come back and take another test because if I did it, I want to know I did it.

K:

I think you know now. I think you're afraid.

P:

I'm not. All my fears are gone. If I was afraid, I'd start crying.

K:

You know what I think, Pete? You're afraid we're going to lock you up someplace and throw away the key. This isn't going to happen. You're a decent-living guy. You're not a criminal. You did a crazy thing. I've done crazy things. Probably when I was your age I did crazier things than you've done. Screwing around, you know? I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I'm an angel. I'd be lyin' to you. The people in the area think you're a decent guy. This is our problem. You're such a decent guy and this is such a shameful thing. What your friends would think of you …

BOOK: A Death in Canaan
12.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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