all agreed. It was awful, digging that hole until it was big enough, deep enough, to dump him in, then shoveling the dirt over him. His eyes were open. I still see his face, see him staring up at me as the dirt covered him. But I was glad.” He heaved out a breath. “The next day, I drove into Bushkill to a funeral home and bought an urn. Mom filled it with six pounds of ashes from the fireplace.”
Mrs. Trumbo took her son’s hand. “Ron was trying to stop the major from killing me. My boy’s no murderer.”
Wilde said, “Why didn’t you simply go to the local authorities and tell them what happened? He was a wifebeater, nearly killed both of you. It was self-defense. Even after you buried the body. With all the shock, fear, the confusion, there would have been three of you telling the same story.”
“You don’t understand,” Ronald said. “The next morning we couldn’t believe what we’d done, but still, there was no way to change it. We talked about going to the police in Bushkill, telling them the truth. But Marsia didn’t let that happen. She looked from me to Mom, and she smiled her beautiful smile and said, calm as a judge, ‘I’m involved now, and no way are you going to the police. If you two martyrs turn yourselves in, I’ll tell the cops you murdered your stepfather in cold blood, with no provocation except his yelling at your precious mother. Good, I can see you’re starting to actually believe me.’
“She told us we were going to let the old bastard stay buried and go about our business.”
Mrs. Trumbo said, “I’ll never forget that smile. I’d always thought her charming, clever. I would never have guessed she was capable of that.”
Ronald said, “She told us she was leaving, taking my car, but before she drove off, she said, ‘Don’t forget, I know where the body’s buried.’ She laughed, pulled out her cell phone. ‘Did you wonder why I didn’t help you dig his grave? I had to step back so I could record everything.’ She waved the cell phone at us. ‘Ronnie,’ she said, ‘you’re a fine artist and not a bad lover, but we’re over.’ And she gave me that beautiful smile again. ‘I’ll be sending you the video, Ronnie, and you and your mom will be paying me a little something from here on out. Otherwise I’ll turn you both in. I’m not kidding, you know.’ ”
Mrs. Trumbo said, “I’ll never forget what she said to me and the contempt in her voice. ‘Mrs. Trumbo, you weren’t very smart, were you, to marry that sorry excuse for a man? Sorry you’re not done paying for it.’ ” Mrs. Trumbo sighed. “It made it worse because she was right.”
Ronald said, “And she drove off. She left my car in Baltimore, at my apartment. She never asked for more than we could afford, only a couple hundred a month. I saw her occasionally, saw her exhibits, followed her career. Mom and I have lived knowing she could contact us or turn us in at any time. When she was accused of trying to kill that rich old lady in Washington, we didn’t know what it meant for us, until last month when she sent us instructions, reminded us of what would happen if we didn’t do exactly what she said. She had me change that puzzle of Major Trumbo and send it in three separate red boxes to Agent Savich. She did it to scare the crap out of us, to torture us, to reinforce to us that she held all the cards. She wanted Agent Savich to trace the puzzle here to St. Lumis. She thought he wouldn’t be able to resist, that he’d come here and check it out himself. But she was wrong. You came, Agent Cinelli. She insisted we had to get him out of Washington, get him here, somehow, so his family would be left alone at home.”
Mrs. Trumbo said, “Ronald couldn’t bring himself to burn the house down, so he set fire only to the kitchen, to give them time to get out. Marsia was furious because he hadn’t followed her instructions. She’s never going to stop trying to hurt this Agent Savich.”
Ronald raised dead eyes to Pippa’s face. “What’s going to happen to us, Agent Cinelli?”
Pippa leaned forward. It was tough to keep her voice calm. “I can almost understand why you did what you did at