Lizette had never seen so many policemen before. She never realized there were so many different uniforms, dark blue uniforms, black uniforms, gray, brown, khaki, even bright green uniforms, and of course, the ever present baby blue shirt and dark blue pants of the New Orleans Police Department. The funeral parlor was jammed with different uniforms.
Standing against a wall, holding on to Dino’s hand, she watched them move in and out She noticed the different badges too. Some looked like large shields of medieval knights, some wore cowboy stars on their chests, especially the deputies from the river parishes and the bayou country – St. Charles Parish, St. James Parish, Ascension, Lafourche, Terrebone, St. Tammany, St. Bernard, and her favorite name for a parish – St. John the Baptist Parish. She noticed the badge of the Gretna Police was a copy of NOPD’s star-and-crescent badge.
Shifting her weight, she glanced at Dino. He was staring straight ahead, at nothing in particular. She wished he would look back at her. He would if she said something but he was in a trance.
She looked around again. She was getting used to spotting the detectives from the civilians. Plainclothesmen work inexpensive, close-out suits with their black police-uniform shoes. Even Dino, who wore the back linen suit she’d given him and the thin gray tie, wore his uniform shoes. He looked good in black with his dark hair and moustache and those pale green eyes. Only his eyes were so vacant. They weren’t sad. They were empty.
She knew the gray skirt-suit she wore matched his tie perfectly. She wanted it to. She wanted to match him as perfectly as she could. Lizette continued to watch the people and their clothes. Anything to distract her from what lay in the back parlor. But she knew it would only be a matter of time before Dino took her back there – to the coffin.
And just as she thought of it, he did. He stood away from the wall and led her through the crowd toward the back. She bit her lower lip and followed, the pungent smell of roses wafting across her, so strong it was almost unbearable. She hated that sickly smell.
At least the coffin was closed. Dino led her up to it and then let go of her hand. They both made the sign of the cross. She bent her head and watched him out of the corner of her eye.
He stared at the lid for a long time before slowly raising his left hand and placing it on the coffin. She watched his eyes. He blinked twice. But when he turned to her there was no emotion there. His eyes looked like a desert night – cold and lonely.
They moved to the side and she wished they’d go back out front, away from the flowers. But she realized Dino positioned himself there on purpose, so he could face those who came up to the coffin.
Lizette stood a few inches behind, still holding on to his hand, watching him exchange solemn looks with the policemen who passed. She noticed the way they greeted one another, some with a resigned look, some with just one word, “Brother!” The handshakes were strong, even the occasional hug was a strong one.
“Let it out brother,” some of them told Dino. “Get it out of you,” they said, always with a forceful, manly tone. When someone did express emotion, it was mixed with strong language, “Fuck it! Just fuck it all!”
But Dino let out no emotion. she could see in the way he moved and sighed – he was – seething. She could see it in the way he was grinding his teeth. But he expressed nothing, not even to her. She wished he would. She wished he would let it out. But he was cold, so cold it was scary.
Back in the front parlor she had heard some of them talking about the shooting. Some talked about Millie. But Dino never said a word, even when Lieutenant Mason came in with a look of gloom on his narrow face, even when Paul came and stood next to them.
“Where’s Carolyn?” she asked.
“She’s been to three of these, said she’d paid her dues.”
When Mark came up, she inched out of his way. If Mason was glum, Mark was fit to be tied. He looked as if he could rip the head off someone – anyone.
Standing near the coffin and watching the macho way the policemen greeted one another, Lizette couldn’t help but notice how Millie’s family stood out in contrast. They looked like scarecrows, all hunched over and pale, except for their red eyes. The father cried even more than Millie’s mother, who was the one taking on the chore of greeting all the strangers who came up to them to express condolences. They were from Indiana, Paul told her. It was the first time they’d ever been to New Orleans.
When a large group of men in uniform came by in single file, all together, Paul explained “That’s the evening watch from the Third District. They go on duty in an hour.” She noticed they had the numeral ‘3’ on their collars.
The line filed past, each pausing only momentarily in front of the casket. Right behind them was another group, this one wearing the numeral ‘2’.
When the platoon from the Sixth district passed, she noticed a difference. Each greeted Dino personally on their way out. Some nodded, some patted his shoulder or squeezed his shoulder, some stopped to shake his hand. Some even spoke to him but his only response was either a nod or a shake of his head
At the end of the Sixth District line, she saw a streak of blond hair and knew it was Stan Smith. He winked at her when their eyes met. Stopping next to Dino, he shrugged at his old partner and then reached around Dino and grabbed Lizette, lifting her in a bear hug, letting her feet dangle for a few seconds before putting her down. She had to catch her breath. Stan looked back at Dino and shrugged again before leaving. Dino never even blinked.
Then a line of Jefferson Parish Deputies came by in their navy blue uniforms. They had a little silver ‘1’ on their collars.
“You want some coffee?” Paul asked her.
“Sure.”
She pulled Dino’s hand and led him away from the tearful parents and the insufferable flowers to a side room where there were tables and coffee pots and mounds of donuts.
That was the first time she ever saw Dino turn down a cup of coffee.
“Come on, boy,” Paul said, “what’s the matter with you? You ain’t talking and now you ain’t drinking coffee?”
“I just don’t want any,” Dino answered quietly.
Paul turned back to Lizette and shrugged. Then he started telling her who was who in the coffee room, pointing out a couple of assistant superintendents of police, a major and a captain.
“See those old guys over there?” He pointed to a group of middle aged men with paunches and red noses. “Those are retired cops. You can tell by their beer bellies and whiskey noses.”
She looked around but didn’t see Dino’s father.
They sat at one of the tables. Paul continued pointing out dignitaries, city councilmen, assessors, district attorneys. She held Dino’s hand and stole a look at him when she could.
She thought back to the previous night, when she waited for him to come and the conversation she had with her parents. They came to her nearly in tears. Her father at the foot of her bed and asked, “Do you really want to marry this man?”
He told her Dino was a violent man. He told her Dino was a dangerous man in a dangerous job and how they worried for her.
“Remember who you are,” her mother added, “And where you come from and who he is – ”
She cut them off, “I love him and I’m going to marry him. Period.”
They tried to protest more but she told them calmly that it was no use. Period. Her father finally gave in and hugged her and left with his head down. Her mother left angry. Alex sneaked in later and told her she’d better marry Dino, “Or you and I are gonna have problems.” She hugged him, the little bastard.
Two tasteless coffees later, she found herself back in the front parlor, leaning against the wall, still holding Dino’s hand. After a while, she noticed a girl staring at them. A little on the skinny side, the girl wore a black dress that was a little too tight. Her long, straight hair was as black as the dress. She was pretty with bright green eyes that were staring right at Dino. She looked a little on the hard side
When she started for them, Lizette felt herself tense up. Dino never saw the girl coming until she was right on them, then he blinked in surprise.
“I knew you were involved in – this,” the girl said, following quickly with, “why didn’t you call me?” There was an edge to her voice.
Dino stared into the girl’s eyes with absolutely no expression in his eyes. He did not even blink.
The girl put a hand on Dino’s arm. Lizette noticed the not too subtle signal from another woman – a signal that said she and this man were once – intimate – that she owned a part of him from his past. Lizette did her best to keep her face expressionless but by the way Paul was staring at her, she wasn’t doing a good job.
The girl turned to Lizette but continued talking to Dino, “So, this is your fiancé?”
Dino did not respond.
“Maybe she can get you out of all this.” The girl turned back to Dino, “Maybe she can get you to – quit – before you end up in a coffin too.” She said it sharply, with no compassion, no hint of caring.
Dino suddenly looked angry. He inched forward and the girl gave way. A fierce interplay passed between their green eyes and the girl not only blinked first, but retreated. Wheeling quickly, the girl walked straight out of the funeral parlor. The crowd made way for her. Dino was not even watching her.
When the people staring at them finally looked away, Lizette leaned against his ear and asked, “Who was that?”
“That,” he turned to her, “was Jessica.”
She knew who Jessica was. Dino’s mother once mistook Lizette for Jessica when she answered Dino’s phone.
“Her father’s a retired cop,” he added. And then in a voice so cold, Lizette could feel it, he said, “She didn’t even know Millie.”
“Oh.”
She eased back a little and bumped into Lieutenant Mason who reached over and tapped Dino on the shoulder.
“Why don’t you take this girl,” Mason nodded to Lizette, “and go live on an island somewhere? Get the hell away from all this.”
Dino looked down and began to slowly nod.
Lizette squeezed his hand and answered for him, “We’re working on it.”
•
Lizette looked up at the sign suspended between the tall white stucco pillars. ‘Cypress Grove’ was in printed black wrought iron over the entrance of the cemetery. With the palm trees behind, it looked like a southern California movie set. Cypress Grove was one of the Canal cemeteries, located at the corner of Canal Street and City Park Avenue. A sign next to the gate said it was owned by the Fireman’s Charitable and Benevolent Association.
With her hand tucked into Dino’s, they followed the casket away from the avenue past rows of concrete sepulchres and brick tombs. She looked at the names and the dates: Legendre, Catoire, Alfonso, Galvez, Catalapa, Lafreniere – 1888, 1856, 1899, 1903, 1912, 1915. Then she spotted two newer ones: Calais 1979 and Fitzgerald 1982.
Millie Suzanne was to be interred in the Gaubert family sepulchre, between two large dead oak trees at the back of the cemetery. Spanish moss, dangling from the oaks, flowed back and forth in a spring breeze as the priest said prayers. When a gust of stronger breeze filtered by, the moss danced to the clicking sound made by the dark leaves of the nearby magnolia trees jostling together like fingers snapping for attention.
The Gaubert crypt had two tombstones across its façade. The first was very old and cracked with age. It had IN MEMORY OF across its rounded top and names listed below: Bartland Gaubert 1869-1939; Sarah Gaubert 1877-1939; John Gaubert 1900-1946; John Gaubert, Jr., 1930-1931 an Joseph Gaubert. Beneath this name was the sentence, “A native of New Orleans who died at St. Mere Eglise, France during the Normandy Invasion June 6, 1944.”
The newer tombstone was made of gray marble. It covered the Gauberts and Bartlands buried from 1952 to 1976. It was Paul who explained to Lizette that Mrs. Gaubert was Millie’s landlady. “She took Millie in like a daughter,” he whispered, pointing to a frail old woman who had to be assisted by two uniformed officers.
Lizette remembered – that – Dino told her how, as a little boy, he used to play hide and seek with his brother in the Canal Cemeteries. He told her he used to play in St. Patrick’s and Gates of Prayer, Greenwood and even Odd Fellow’s Rest but he never mentioned Cypress Grove. She wondered if he ever hid behind the Gaubert tomb.
When the police bugler began playing taps, Lizette made the mistake of reciting the words to herself –
Day is done
gone the sun
from the lakes
from the hills
from the sky
all is well
safely rest
God is nigh
She felt a deep sadness welling up in her chest as the haunting notes echoed through the cemetery. Day is done. Day is done. God is near.
•
She looked at Paul through wet eyes and watched him choke back a tear and look away. Mark was trying to keep his face hard but his eyes were red. Then she looked at Dino and his eyes were no longer empty. But they weren’t red or wet or even sad. They were angry.
Then she felt something else deep inside, she felt a pressure of – worry. Carolyn Snowood had told her to get used to it. But she was afraid. She was afraid because he was not afraid. He didn’t even feel the fear because he was in control. He was the one who could act. All she could do was sit home and wait and feel the fear creeping up her throat. It wasn’t easy.
Dino said nothing at the cemetery and nothing on the way home. She wanted to reach over and grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard and say, “Come on, snap out of it!” She wanted him to do something, say something. But he remained silent.
So she waited until they were settled at her kitchen counter with fresh coffees before saying “How does a week from Saturday sound for a wedding date?”
He looked into her eyes from the first time that day and blinked twice.
“I’ve seen the priest,” she went on. “We’ve got the license. We can get married at noon, have the reception here and be on our way by evening.”
“Where?”
“The Caribbean.”
He continued to stare at her but the cold, desert look in his eyes was gone.
She took a sip of coffee and added, “I want a big honeymoon. Not a big wedding.”
He looked at his coffee and raised it to his lips.
“I want,” she said, “to lie on a beach with you, feel the sun on my back, listen to the waves. I want you to rub suntan oil all over me. I want to skinny dip with you and make love to you on a beach. And then I want to come back and feel you next to me every night.”
She waited for him to say something. He finished his cup and looked at the window and then finally looked back at her.
“There’s only one thing,” he said.
“I know. Lugo.”
He blinked twice again and the corner of his mouth began – to smile. He shook his head no and said, “Yes. Lugo. But that wasn’t what I was thinking.” His voice dropped into an apologetic whisper, “I don’t have the money right now. For the honeymoon.”
“Money? Money? Money doesn’t matter. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I’ve got money,” she said and then followed quickly with, “don’t tell me that’ll bother you.”
“Well, your Dad’s money – ”
“It’s not my father’s money or my mother’s. It’s my money.”
Then she told him about the Louvier and Valios family trust and the banks in Monte Carlo, Luxembourg and Zurich. “You see – it’s my money. My inheritance. Old world money, Mr. LaStanza. You had no idea did you?”
He shook his head.
“Marry me and you’ll marry the richest bachelorette in Louisiana. And when our children are born. They’ll inherit the same trust.”
She finished her cup, grabbed the coffee pot and poured herself another before reaching over to refill his cup. Then she passed him the cream and sugar.
He mixed it himself and then looked up at her and she felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from her. She could see it in his eyes.
“It’s a date,” he said.
Then he began to rub his eyes and she could see his shoulders sag and she wished a great weight was lifted from him – the damm case – the daughter – the killers – the funeral.
She remembered what Carolyn Snowood said. “They can act. All we can do is sit home and wait.”
But Lizette was going to face it, face her fear. “You thinking about the funeral?” she asked.
“No.”
“That man Lugo?”
“Actually, I was thinking about a beach,” he pulled his hands away and stared at her, “and you skinny dipping.”
She smiled and shook her long hair.
They were getting married. Absolutely.
•
Dino let his shoulders sag, hoping it would help him catch his breath. He hadn’t been able to catch his breath since the shots rang out. He didn’t feel this bad when his brother died. he was too sad then. But he didn’t feel sad now. he felt angry at himself, at Millie, at Billy Boy, at the whole fuckin’ world.
He wanted to wipe it all away. He wanted to change it all – go back to Almonaster and watch the defiant crawfish with Millie and then give it up as soon as the indictments fell through. He wanted to change everything.
He hated this case, the city, the fuckin’ job. He hated the killers, the damn daughter, the victim for getting himself killed in the first place. He hated Mark and Paul and even Mason. He hated his parents’ house and that no good fuckin’ badge he wore. He hated Millie for not staying on the fire escape. Bu he hated himself most of all for letting it happen to her. It was his case, his warrant, his city. He felt a rage inside. He hated everything in this totally fucked up world – except Lizette. And that was enough.
“How about,” her voice brought him back, “let’s go put on some Smokey Robinson?”
He moved around the counter and hugged Lizette for a long time.
“A week from Saturday, huh?”
“That’s right,” she said.
“Good.”