Mary: Pop Quiz

I awoke early this morning mercifully unable to remember my dreams, the steady rain of the night before replaced by a cold, gray drizzle. After putting on one of my brand-new business suits, I began creeping downstairs before seeing a light from underneath Mrs. Howland's door and hearing voices from within. I knocked and entered, nearly tripping over a hard-bound volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica. Books were strewn all over the bedroom, most of them open. Jeff was sitting next to Mrs. Howland, holding a book open for her to view. They both looked absolutely exhausted.

If I had felt that my education was inadequate after previous meetings with Mrs. Howland and Jeff before, this morning's events were so emotionally grueling that I wanted to sue the University of Wisconsin for my money back. Mrs. Howland bade me sit down and immediately proceeded to essentially give me a pop-quiz on events in world history. After years out of college, it's amazing how much general knowledge slips through your fingers. As we went along, Mrs. Howland's mood became darker, her questions more terse. Knowing that I was letting her down (whatever the reason) was agonizing, and after fifteen minutes I was sweating and on the verge of tears. After what seemed like a lifetime, Jeff returned with a fresh pot of coffee and our usual breakfast of homemade waffles, and the test was finally done.

I never challenged why I was being made to answer questions that had nothing to do with the case I was working. I didn't ask myself why I felt so terrible at my lack of retention of dates and events that never interested me. The fact is, no matter the reason, there are simply some people you meet in life that you feel you cannot disappoint. If you have spent any time with Mrs. Howland (and I don't see how it's possible that you haven't, if you're reading this at all), then I'm sure you understand.

My hand shook as I reached out for my coffee cup. I picked it up, immediately spilled some and put it back down on the china saucer without taking a drink. "Mrs. Howland, I'm just so sorry I let you down. I wish I knew more-"

Mrs. Howland's severe expression shifted, the scowl softening to a look of concern I hadn't seen before. "Oh, my dear. No, you performed admirably. This... I believe I am struggling with my medication. Jeffrey has called the doctor, and he will be along presently. Please go about your business of the day and forget that this ever occurred."

Jeff walked me out and escorted me to the kitchen, where he poured some of the fresh coffee into a thermos. Handing it to me he said softly, "In cases such as these, where a loved one is suddenly killed and you are permanently, seriously disabled, there are consequences beyond the physical. Mrs. Howland would like to believe that she is beyond such things, but..." he trailed off, giving a wan smile. "She needs time. That's all. Don't be overly concerned." As we walked together to the front door, he added with a chuckle, "And don't worry about not knowing the precise year Genghis Khan began his conquest of Asia. I doubt very much it will come up in today's investigation." (The Khan, at right)

It was meant to soothe me, but it just made me more exasperated with myself. "But she knows it. For God's sake, you know it, and you're-"

"-I clean adult diapers for a living," he finished, and my cheeks flushed. That wasn't what I meant to say, but I'm ashamed to say that it was probably what I meant, whether I knew it or not. Thankfully, he didn't take it personally, his smile never wavering. He put a gentle hand on my shoulder and said, "She went through a dozen interviews or more before she found me. She chose me because she wanted something more than just a surrogate of her own body, she needed someone who could be a companion for her mind." Jeff helped me on with my coat and added, "What you went through this morning probably wasn't fair. It isn't what you were hired for." He laughed, "It would be like asking me to dust for a print." He wished me good luck, and I shuffled out into the mist, clutching my thermos, emotionally drained before my day had even really begun.

I slipped into my luxurious rental car and ran some errands, mainly killing time before I went back into the St. Francis police department to see Detective Ward. I was hoping the coroner would have more information, but so little time had passed that I knew it wasn't likely. While shopping for sundries I called Detective Ward twice before he assured me that he would call me as soon as he knew anything else. By 4:00PM I got the call, and rushed to St. Francis.

The front desk officer was getting to know me and waved me past toward Detective Ward's cubicle with a grunt. Ward remained seated, ran a hand through his gray hair and said, "Just got some blood work back. Not sure if it's important, but it is unusual."

"Did they find drugs in her system? Was something wrong with her?"

He shook his head. "Not her. The rabbit." He opened one of the ubiquitous Manila file folders and handed me a sheet. It was filled with medical jargon and utterly incomprehensible to me, but Ward gave me the highlights. "They found evidence of rabbit hemorrhagic disease virus, or RHDV. It's a virus that's deadly to rabbits, and though there have been a few minor outbreaks in the U.S., it's since been totally eradicated."

It was more than a little odd to be essentially doing an autopsy on a bunny, but every piece of information might help, so I went with it. "So the rabbit isn't native? Where is it from?"

Ward shrugged. "I talked with a zoology professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee this afternoon, and he didn't exactly pinpoint it. Apparently this virus began in China back in 1984. It spread pretty fast to Europe. He said Australia had a massive outbreak of the virus in the mid-nineties and it wiped out something like 95% of their rabbit population." He shook his head and chuckled, "So we've narrowed it down to more than half the world. Wish I had more for you."

I thanked him and rose to go, then remembered Josh's questions about the blood on the floor and the order of events. Ward told me that based on the blood spatter, the rabbit's foot was cut off first, then the killer went to work on Mrs. Walentowicz. He also said that the rabbit's foot was pushed into her brain before the incision was made in her abdomen.

Also remembering Mrs. Howland's wishes to potentially include him in our little cabal, I asked if he would be open to coming by the house for a visit. He agreed and said he would be by before 11:00 tomorrow morning.