‘Oh? Isn’t he just a petty thief? What do you expect to get from him?’
‘I’d like to find out what he was going after when he got caught. And I wish you could see one of his sudden bursts of anger. His family keeps saying he only does non-violent crimes, and they all treat it like it’s just a phase he’ll grow out of, almost a joke. But I think he’s way past pranks – to me he seems about ready to explode.’
‘Well … when we get to it, you can ask and I’ll watch. But right now I’ve got all these meetings I can’t get out of.’
‘I know. It’s not a problem,’ Sarah said. ‘We’ve got enough digging ahead of us to keep us busy for weeks.’
‘This is the homicide department, remember?’ Delaney said. ‘We don’t get weeks.’
‘I know. We’re digging as fast as we can.’
ELEVEN
Waiting for Marjorie Springer in the lobby, Sarah went over her list of questions again. Angela had worked for this employer three times at least – what was that all about? She seemed to be able to hold better jobs, and her descriptions of working conditions in the used rag business sounded pretty grim. But something about this person, or the business she ran, seemed to keep pulling her back.
Marjorie had sounded cordial enough on the phone. In case she was not forthcoming, Sarah wondered where the pressure points were – licenses and taxes – was she up to date with her taxes? I should have looked it up. She hated the ham-handed end of interrogation, but sometimes, if you had to … I should know more about this woman. At the last minute she added one last question, sideways along the margin of the page, about the evening investigations Angela had mentioned once. Something about Lacey DNA, but had she found something more?
Knowing only her voice, Sarah had expected the wrinkled face of a heavy smoker, with perhaps a drinker’s rueful expression as well. But Marjorie strode into the lobby at 270 South Stone looking sturdy and fit. Sarah was waiting for her, led her to the elevator and rode up with her guest.
From the lack of frown lines, Sarah guessed that Marjorie was usually cheerful too, but today she looked pretty serious. Her voice, she explained, was due to an industrial hazard she couldn’t fix: hustling old clothes raises a lot of lint.
‘Over the years I’ve developed an allergy. I sound a little better when I remember to take my pills. Thanks for talking to me, anyway,’ she said. ‘Some people get scared off because I sound like a thug.’
‘Oh, you sound a lot better than most of the people I talk to,’ Sarah said. ‘And if you tell me everything you know about Angela Lacey I won’t care how you sound while you say it.’
‘Believe me, I’ll be happy to do that. I feel so bad about Angela – if there’s any way I can help you find her killer, I’m grateful for the chance.’
‘Uh … you know, Marjorie, so far we haven’t proved it wasn’t suicide.’
‘Oh? Well, I suppose you have to do that for the lawyers, don’t you? But you don’t need to bother for me.’
‘Oh? You know something about that day that I don’t?’
‘No, but I know Angela. If she was the kind to give up on life, she’s had plenty of reasons to do it before now. But she never did because she wasn’t a quitter. She came from tough, strong people who’d been through hell in Europe and survived to get to America, and that’s what she was, too – a survivor.’
‘You’ve known her a long time?’
‘All her life.’
‘Oh, is that so? Excuse me, in that case I have a colleague here who I think ought to meet you. He’s been searching for details about her life … he’ll be so glad to hear what you have to say.’
She called Ollie, who came in smiling all over his amiable freckled face, pulling his own chair. He introduced himself, at the top of his benign cop game. In two minutes he had established himself as a Friend of Marjorie.
‘We sure appreciate your coming in here to tell us Angela’s story,’ he said. ‘You’re really a lifelong friend? Was the long life here in Tucson?’
‘For Angela and me, yes. Our grandparents all came from Poland. After they met at the Polish church in Milwaukee they became good friends.’
‘Your names don’t sound …’
‘They changed them – nobody could pronounce their names and they had trouble getting jobs, so Zboynevicz turned into Springer and Golbiewski got to be Goodman.’
‘Did you know your grandparents?’
‘They were around when I was little. I was the daughter of their oldest son, the first grandchild. I was a little princess for the first couple of years, till the others started coming along. Angela was twelve years younger. She was only two years old when her parents left her with her grandparents one Friday night, just to go to the movies, and got killed in a car accident on the way home. Both of them wiped out in one careless minute.’