#013: Engineering

The Kalinsky quarters seemed to be a mirror image of Karen's apartment, about the same size but reversed in layout, and upstairs over the executive offices.

Marcia was propped up with pillows on a large, overstuffed couch. She wore silk pajamas and a dressing gown but was otherwise uncovered. A large-screen projection TV was playing an old movie at murmuring volume. She seemed a bit pale but otherwise looked none the worse for the near-drowning experience.

"How you doing?"

It was a different Marcia from the one I'd known as she replied, "Much better now, thanks. I understand you saved my life. Thanks."

I showed her a grin and a shrug. "Seemed the thing to do."

"You're a nice girl. And I have been a terrible jerk. Sorry."

I did not argue the point. I just said, "Sure."

"Have they found Karen?"

"Yeah. She's going to be okay."

"Thank God. It was a stupid thing I—did you hear about that?"

"I heard a version. Like to hear yours."

"Why?"

"Karen is in deep trouble. She came to me for help. I am trying to help. But I need a handle. What did you say to her?"

Her gaze fell away and there was a brief silence before she replied, "I'd had too much to drink, but I was not that drunk. I went down to make sure the staff was properly setting up for dinner. Then I thought I might as well take a quick dip because there really wasn't time for me to bathe and all. As I entered the pool, I saw Karen standing in the shadows by the diving board. She was wearing her yellow bikini. I remember thinking, well how 'bout that, she remembered her suit this time and she doesn't really need it. I mean, we always skinny-dip here after dark. I was looking for her as I came up, to see if she was coming in with me. I was looking straight at her and she was looking straight at me. I know our eyes were locked all during that horrible struggle."

"What horrible struggle?"

"I could not get to the surface." She shivered in the memory of it. "It was as though a hand was holding me under and I could not escape it. I fought like the devil, let me tell you, but no matter what I did there was always a few inches of water above my head."

"How do you account for that?"

She shifted position slightly on the couch and gave me a flash with the eyes. "Come on, now. How would you account for it?"

"I suppose you know my background."

"I sure do. And I'm sure you know what happened to me down there tonight."

I inquired, "Has Karen ever before, to your direct knowledge, exhibited any such power?"

She immediately replied, "Nothing I can put my finger on, no. I mean, nothing like that. But we've talked about it. You know, telekinesis, telepathy, psychic phenomena. I've had an interest in that stuff ever since Bridey Murphy. We've talked about it a lot. And lately Karen has seemed almost obsessed with it."

"Has she spoken to you about her ethereal companion?"

"Her what?"

"A spirit, or something, that comes to her."

"No, I have not heard of that."

"Tell me about Elena."

"Elena. God. She's been dead ten years."

"Did you like her?"

"Never really knew her. Look, I know what happened to me tonight. It was dumb of me to yell at Karen that way, but I damn sure knew what I was yelling about. She tried to kill me."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Beats the hell clear out of me. I'm the only real friend she has had all these years."

"But you never really knew Elena. Why not? She

was around for—what?—more than fifteen years before she died? And you were here, too, most of that time?"

"I was here all the time, but Elena was not. Not much, anyway. Until that last year, and then—well, we just were not together all that much."

"If Elena was not here then, where was she?"

"In institutions one after another, I guess."

"What sort of institutions?"

"You know what sort of institutions."

"What was her problem?"

Marcia sighed, as though suddenly becoming weary of the conversation. "I'd guess," she said quietly, "that JQ was her Number One problem."

"How so?"

She sighed again and replied, "Look, don't quote me on any of this. I don't know all of the facts and I doubt that anyone now living knows all the facts. But it seems that JQ never liked Elena. He was very upset by TJ's marriage, and I believe he just never accepted it. So he could not very well accept Elena, either, could he?"

"But he accepted Karen?"

"Absolutely doted on her. JQ's one soft spot was that kid. He spent the final two years of his life, while he knew he was dying of cancer, setting up his affairs so that most everything would go directly to Karen instead of to his own son."

"That's interesting. And now she is about to come into all that. Is that what you had reference to when you told me, earlier tonight, that things here would be changing soon?"

"I told you that?"

"Words to that effect. You also told me that Terry was setting me up for something. We had a date for ten o'clock—remember?—when you were supposed to tell me what I was being set up for."

Marcia smiled a bit uncomfortably and said, "Give the old lady a break, eh? I drink too much. And I am not very smart when I drink." She made a rueful face. "Well, what the hell—why not? No, I probably had something else in mind when I mentioned big changes. I'm leaving here next Saturday. And never looking back."

That last bit gave me pause. I said, "You mean ... you are leaving Terry? Or you are both—?"

"You bet I am. Look, I was little more than a kid, myself, when I came here. Now I'm practically a middle-aged matron, and enough is enough. I made the commitment a long time ago to stick it out here with Karen and now the commitment is fulfilled. I'm leaving one week from tonight."

"Terry know about this?"

"No."

"Karen know about it?"

"No. That makes you my confidant, doesn't it? So please honor it. I'll tell them my own way, in my own time."

"Sure."

"Just you and Carl."

"Carl knows?"

"He'd better. He's going with me."

I thought but did not say, "Oh shit." I did say, "You are not worried about Terry's reaction?"

"Of course we are worried about Terry's reaction. But there is nothing he can do to stop it, now."

I told her, very quietly, "You could be wrong about that, Marcia."

She saw it in my eyes, the emotion that I was trying to conceal. I had to break the eye contact. She squirmed about on the couch, removed a pillow, slowly transferred it to the floor, very quietly inquired, "Exactly what are you trying to tell me?"

I took her hand, squeezed it between both of mine, looked squarely into those worried eyes, and told her, "Carl is dead. Karen has been charged with his death."

She moaned, "Oh my God!"

"Can you think of any reason why—?"

She cried, "Just get out of here! Please! Get out!"

I offered, "I'll shut up and just hang out for a while, if you'd like."

Tears had erupted and were bathing her cheeks. "No, just please... leave me alone."

I went out of there feeling like a bastard.

But Karen was the client, Marcia was not, and right then Karen needed all the help I could engineer for her.

I was giving it my best shot.