“Hey, guys.” She sniffles back a tear. “Can you believe it? They say it was probably a heart attack. I think it was my fault …”
“What? Come on, Christine. He was ninety-four years old …”
“But the restraining order mess. Me and Shona going to court. Judith getting all upset. I think it sent his blood pressure shooting through the roof …”
“Christine?” says Ceepak, using the firm, deep voice he sometimes uses with me. “You did not kill Dr. Rosen. Old age did.”
“I don’t know …”
That’s when Ceepak’s phone blares an obscure Springsteen song called “The Wish,” a tribute the Boss wrote about his mom. That means the caller is Ceepak’s mother.
I know this because I showed him how to program in different ringtones to ID callers once his family on the island grew beyond just Rita. If he wants me to put in a ringtone for his dad, I think I’ll go with Meatloaf’s “Bat Out Of Hell.”
Ceepak jabs the speakerphone button.
Probably so Christine can say “thank you” to his mom in person.
“Hello, Mom. I have you on speakerphone. I’m here with Danny and Christine, the young nurse you helped so much.”
Mrs. Ceepak doesn’t say anything.
“Mom?”
“Are you at Arnold Rosen’s house?”
“Yes, Mom. He passed away this morning.”
“I know. One of my bingo friends just called …”
“He was ninety-four, Mother. He lived a good long life.”
Again silence.
“Mom?”
“Arnie called me late last night, John. He was worried. Told me he was ‘surrounded by assassins’! John?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Do something. Please? I feel it in my bones: One of those assassins murdered Arnold Rosen.”
Christine and I are standing there, stunned, staring at Ceepak, who is staring at his silent cell phone.