An Absence of Light

“Sunday night when you came over and told him about Art-God, it seems like a month ago-it was terrible. After you left Dean came in and told me. He told me we had to get over to Peggy’s and break the bad news to her. Then he went into the bathroom and closed the door. In a few minutes I heard him vomiting. He stayed in there a long time. I went ahead and changed clothes, and he was still in there. He, uh, he was sick until there was nothing left… uh, I, uh, could hear him in there just, you know, coughing and coughing.”

She started crying again, covering her face in the wad of tissues. Lara quickly got up and came over to the sofa and sat down on the other side of her, putting her arm around her. She took the wet tissues out of Ginette’s hands and gave her dry ones and hugged her and said something to her.

Graver sat there helplessly, the image of Burtell vomiting playing over and over in his mind. Paula was sitting near Graver’s desk with a pen and notepad, staring at Ginette with a drawn face. Graver saw that she hadn’t written down a word.

It was a few minutes before Ginette was able to continue, and when she did her voice was thin and without strength. This time Lara stayed at her side.

“We went over and stayed Sunday night with Peggy,” she went on. “We got a sedative for her and finally, about three in the morning, she went to sleep. Neither Dean nor I slept a minute. When Peggy’s folks came in from Corpus Christi about five-thirty the next morning, we went home. We both bathed, cleaned up and went to work. But Monday night was miserable. Dean wasn’t able to sleep at all. Tuesday morning the loss of sleep was killing me, and I called in sick. Dean got up and went to work as usual. I slept through the day and got up late in the afternoon. Dean had left a note on the kitchen table saying that he had left the office early, that, you know, you had let him start his vacation, and that he would be home again later.

“When he came in around nine o’clock that evening he looked terrible. He was carrying a computer backup tape which he said he’d tell me about later. We ate dinner and then about ten-fifteen he said he had to go to a meeting and would be back in a few hours. As soon as he left, you called. I was so glad to hear from you… I… almost told you I was seriously worried about him, but I rationalized. I thought, no he’s had this big investigation, then Art’s suicide. It’s just that it’s a terrible time for him. I didn’t want to be an alarmist Dean wouldn’t have wanted me to run whining to you about how much stress he was under. So I didn’t say anything to you about it He came in late that night… God, that was last night… and went straight to bed with a sick headache.

“This morning I went to work and let him sleep. He told me later that he had slept all day. When I got home this afternoon we had a few drinks, and he started talking.”

Ginette stopped and swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I could use a glass of water after all.” Paula got up, went into the kitchen, and brought one back to her. Ginette took several drinks and then held it in her lap as she went on.

“He started talking,” she said. “He said that he had been involved in an investigation that… you… didn’t know anything about. He said that six or eight months ago he began to suspect someone was selling CID intelligence. He said after a month or so of looking into it he was sure it was happening, and he brought Art in because he trusted him and needed some help. But he said he hadn’t involved you because… he said, you know, he didn’t know how high up it went…”

“He wasn’t sure if I was involved or not,” Graver said.

She nodded uncertainly and shrugged. “I guess.”

“He was right to do that, Ginny,” Graver said. “He did the right thing. Then he believed people above him were involved?”

“He said he had proof that Ray Besom was selling intelligence.”

“Proof?”

“Yes. He said he and Art had set up a separate computer system in a rent house that Art owns, and they had been putting everything they knew on that He said that yesterday he had gone over to Art’s rent house after he left the office and transferred everything on the computer to the backup tape he’d brought home. He said he then scrambled what was on the computer using special software for that purpose. He said he could use the same software to unscramble it later if he needed to, but the way it was now it was reduced to nonsense.”

“Why didn’t he just erase it after he’d copied it?” Graver asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“Okay,” Graver said. “Go on.”’

She took another sip of water.

“He said that in a little while he was going to have to go out to another meeting. He said that he was reasonably sure now that you weren’t involved in this thing, and that if anything should happen to him that I should give you the backup tapes.”