Flowering Judas(107)

“The truck was here?” Demarkian asked.

“It was after a while,” Charlene said. “It was parked over there at the trailer park, and I couldn’t stand it. I really couldn’t. Those people over there. They’ve got no respect for property. They’ve got no respect for anything. I went over one afternoon and somebody had spray painted on it. So I got my son Mark to drive it back here, and I got it cleaned up. After that, it just stayed in the garage.”

“For how long?”

“Like I said. For a while.”

“A month, two months, a year?”

“I don’t know,” Charlene said. “A couple of months, I guess. Something like that. I had other things on my mind.”

“What did you do with it?”

“I sold it,” Charlene said. “What else do you do with a car you don’t want?”

“There are a number of things,” Gregor Demarkian said. “You can give it to charity. You can junk it. Did you sell it to a car dealership?”

“No,” Charlene said. “We put up notices, you know, on those bulletin boards in the grocery store, and we put a notice in the paper. It didn’t take that long. I wasn’t selling it for all that much.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Gregor Demarkian said. “You put out ads to sell the truck only a couple of months after your son disappeared—”

“Well, I didn’t think he’d disappeared,” Charlene said. “I thought he was dead. I had every reason to think he was dead. He loved that truck. He worshipped it. I didn’t think he’d go anywhere without it. And then I just wanted it out of the garage, out of my life, where I didn’t have to look at it anymore. I wanted it away.”

“Do you remember the person you sold it to?”

Charlene shrugged. “Just some kid. Some college kid, Chester’s own age or younger, I’d guess.”

“You don’t remember his name?”

“No.”

“Did he pay you by cash or check?”

“Cash.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five hundred dollars.”

“Twenty-five hundred dollars for a pickup truck that was, at that point, nearly brand new?” Gregor Demarkian looked surprised. “Was it banged up in some way I haven’t been told? That has to be significantly below book value.”

“It wasn’t banged up in any way,” Charlene said, “and of course that was significantly below book value. I told you. I wanted to get rid of it.”

“Do you have paperwork from that transaction?” Gregor asked. “A bill of sale, or a receipt, anything?”

“No, of course not. The buyer gets all that kind of thing. And it was years ago. It’s not the kind of thing you keep.”

“And you don’t remember this kid’s name?”

“No, really, I don’t.”

“It’s all right,” Howard Androcoelho put in quickly. “The kid would have had to register the truck. If we know the approximate date, and we’ve got anything at all—we could look up Chester’s own registration. Then we could use the computer, and we’d find it eventually. Who the kid was, I mean.”

“Good,” Charlene said. “You do that.”

Demarkian rubbed his hand against the side of his face. “Did you see or speak to your son between the time he came back to Mattatuck and the time the body was discovered?”

“You mean did he show up on my doorstep and try to offer me an explanation?” Charlene said. “No. I had no idea he was in town. I had no idea he was even thinking of coming back to town.”

“All right,” Gregor Demarkian said. “Thank you.”

“That’s it?” Howard Androcoelho said. “That’s all? I’m sorry, Charlene, I didn’t realize it was going to be so—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Howard,” Charlene said. “Go to hell. Get out of my house and go to hell. I’ve got nothing to do with two strange people being shot dead just because they had a pickup truck the same color as the one Chester used to have, and you know it.”

2

Penny London woke up for the second time because her phone was ringing. When she sat up in bed and looked around, she wasn’t sure where she was.

It got clearer when her eyes were finally able to focus. She was in a hotel room, at the Howard Johnson, that belonged to Mr. Demarkian’s driver, who was named Tony. She remembered all that from the night before. She was sleeping in a little, since Tony would not be coming back to the room until the end of the day. Mr. Demarkian had had to go out. He had woken her up and told her that …