Eventually.
“Unfortunately,” says Ceepak, who, you remember, will not lie or even fudge, “due to the time constraints of our investigation, so far we have only been able to reach out to the families of those you used to work for.”
“May we ask why?” says Nussbaum, who, I’m guessing, is going to be Christine’s mouthpiece today.
“Certainly,” says Ceepak. “Danny?”
I hate when he does that.
“Um, Joy Kochman, and a few other individuals, suggested that your former clients died under suspicious circumstances and that you were mentioned in each of the deceased person’s wills.”
“You have any proof for these fairy tales?” asks Nussbaum.
“No, sir.”
“Good. Get back to us when you do. Unless you want us to sue you boys, the SHPD, and all of Sea Haven Township for slander.”
I wonder if Mrs. Ceepak would pay for our lawyers, too.
“What else?” says Nussbaum.
“Well,” says Ceepak, “as we are still in the early stages of our investigation, we would appreciate any details Christine might give as to what life was like inside Dr. Rosen’s home. I’m particularly interested in your impressions of Michael, David, and Judith Rosen.”
“Why?” says Nussbaum. “Are they suspects?”
“If they are,” I say, so Ceepak doesn’t have to blurt out the truth again, “that would be a good thing for your client, no?”
Nussbaum squints at me. Considers what I just said.
“Okay, Christine. Tell ’em what you can.”
“Well,” she starts. “I guess you could say neither of his two sons really looked after Dr. Rosen all that much.”
“How so?” says Ceepak.
“He used to tell me stories. How, before he broke his hip, he lived in that big house all by himself. Michael was off in Hollywood and only came home to Sea Haven maybe once a year. David and Judith lived less than five miles away, but they hardly ever stopped by just to say hello. Dr. Rosen only saw them when they needed money.”
“How did that make him feel?” says Ceepak, sounding like this police psychiatrist they sent me to after I had to shoot a man to stop him from killing Rita, back before she became Ceepak’s wife.
“Not seeing Little Arnie broke his heart. When I worked for him, Dr. Rosen was always asking me to clip out any newspaper stories about the Philadelphia Phillies. They were Little Arnie’s favorite team. Dr. Rosen hoped to give those clippings to his grandson the next time he came over. He had a whole file folder filled with those sports stories. But Little Arnie never came to the house. Not once. Not while I worked there. He was too busy at school or with little league or soccer camp.”
Christine pauses.