“You do? How?”
“Female intuition.”
Oh-kay. Too bad the Supreme Court won’t let us arrest people on the grounds of “my mother said so” anymore.
“Second,” Ceepak continues, “we’d have to know the particulars of the will alterations or amendments to see who would benefit, who would lose.”
Mrs. Ceepak puts down her cup and saucer. “Then it’s all my fault.”
“Come again?”
“Arnold told me that what I did with Christine, paying for her defense attorney, inspired him to help those less fortunate. He said he wanted some portion of his last will and testament to be a mitzvah. To do some good.”
“Perhaps he bequeathed a generous donation to a favorite charity,” says Ceepak.
“Which would funnel money away from his kids and grandson,” I say.
“You see?” says Mrs. Ceepak. “It is my fault.”
Ceepak reaches over and places a gentle hand on his mother’s knee.
“Mom, if the autopsy indicates foul play, rest assured, justice will be served.”
Mrs. Ceepak puts down her tiny cookie.
“I liked Arnie Rosen, John. Felt sorry for him, too. He could get so angry over the smallest slights. One time, a gal at the senior center brought him sweet tea when he wanted it unsweetened. He blew up. Called the gal all sorts of horrible names.” She sighs. “Growing old, you lose control over so much of your life. That can change people. Make them moody. One minute you’re sweet, the next you’re yelling at a gal at the senior center. Other times, after bingo, Arnie and I would just sit and talk. He is a very intelligent man. Quite the vocabulary. He taught me when to use ‘who’ and when to use ‘whom.’ I told him about Billy.”
Ceepak puts down his cookie.
“How your father always teased him about being a sissy boy. How that horrible priest took advantage of him. How Billy died.”
I put down my half-eaten cookie, too.
“That’s when Arnie told me about his son. Michael. The one who lives in Hollywood.”
“We met Michael at Dr. Rosen’s house today,” says Ceepak.
“Nice boy?”
“Seems like it. Of course, we only had the briefest encounter …”
“Arnie didn’t like the fact that his son was ‘blatantly and openly gay.’ Those are his words. Blatantly and openly.” Mrs. Ceepak shakes her head. “I tried to tell him that your son is your son and you love him no matter what. Arnie didn’t want to hear it. Between us, I think that’s why the boy moved so far away. He knew he wasn’t welcome at home.”