Chapter Forty-Two
“He confessed?” Trixie asked, astounded. Evgeny Popescu was not a stupid man. She assumed he would be smart enough not to say anything incriminating. However, she knew better than to underestimate Abby. She said he was ready to talk, that his guilty conscience would get the better of him, and she was right.
The group that started with Shaye and Trixie had grown to six. They were sitting on thick couches facing each other, her, Shaye, and Fides on one, Abby, Veronica, and Galya on the other.
Abby had just explained to them what happened at Evgeny’s apartment, and it was starting to sink in.
“So it’s really true,” Trixie said, trying to wrap her mind around it. Like Abby, despite what anyone said, it didn’t seem real until she knew the killer admitted it. “It wasn’t an accident.”
“Are you okay?” Veronica asked.
She felt Shaye place her hand between her shoulder blades and felt calm. “What do we do now?”
“If it were up to me, I would take Veronica to the police station, show them the recording of Evgeny, of Martina, tell them about the nurse in Timişoara, explain our suspicions that Dr. Crina Suciu falsified medical records and knowingly covered up a crime, and apply pressure to have them all arrested and tried for murder.”
“What do you mean, if it were up to you?”
Abby leaned forward and put her hand on Trixie’s thigh. “This is about your family. It’s your decision whether or not we move forward.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
“Dredging up all this could be painful, and we’re dealing with powerful people. Despite what we do, they may get away with it.”
“I don’t care. I owe it to Ileana to try. She wasn’t a coward. Neither am I.”
“Do you want to call your parents and talk to them about it?”
“I should. Do I want to . . .”
Abby pulled out her cell phone. “We’re all right here.”
“Can I put it on speaker?”
Veronica looked around the room, which was deserted except for their group. The bartender was busy cleaning glasses and wasn’t paying them any attention. It was late, the restaurant was about to close, and the waiters were gone. “It should be okay,” she said.
Trixie dialed and waited. Her father answered.
“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”
“It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Is Mom there?”
“She is in our room. Do you want me to get her?”
“I need to talk to both of you.”
“Hold on.”
A minute later, there was a shuffling, and they were on speaker phone. “Is everything okay?” Tavian asked.
“I don’t know how to explain this, so I guess I’ll just say it. Evgeny Popescu killed Ileana. He beat her to death.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and she heard her mother sob. Finally, her father said, “You are certain?”
“He admitted it.”
“Oh, God,” Magda moaned. “Was he arrested?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?” Tavian demanded.
“He admitted it to Abby, not the police.”
“I do not understand,” Magda said.
“Abby and Evgeny’s old girlfriend confronted him in his apartment, and he admitted it. Abby has it on tape.”
“Fine,” her father said, careful not to jump to conclusions.
“I’m calling because Abby said it was up to us whether she takes this to the police. I wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Take it to the police,” Magda said immediately. “Do it as soon as you can.”
“Mrs. Dalca, this is Abby Vicari. You should know, this is probably not going to be a pleasant process. They will fight it, and they might ask you to do things you don’t want to do.”
“There is nothing I will not do in order to see these people locked up forever.”
“They might ask you to exhume the body.”
Trixie felt the blood drain from her face, and she could only imagine her parents, who were much more devout in the Jewish faith than she was, were blanching as well.
“So be it,” Tavian said, and she could hear the tension in his voice. “He murdered our daughter. We will do whatever it takes to see that he pays.”
“To see they all pay. Anyone who had a part in telling us it was an accident,” Magda insisted. “I want those liars to look me in the face and tell me what really happened to my daughter.”
“What exactly did happen? You told us she was beaten,” Tavian said.
“Mr. Dalca, I understand why you want to know, but my advice would be to remain vague on the details,” Abby said tactfully.
“I saw the video of Martina Năstase describing the attack,” Trixie piped in. “I wish I hadn’t.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Dalca, this is Galya Prokhor. I have to say, I agree with the girls. You can take your time to make this decision, but once you’ve seen the videos, you cannot unsee them.”
“We’ll take that into consideration,” Tavian said. “What should we do now?”
“I hate to drop this on you, but there’s nothing you can do right now. First thing tomorrow morning, Veronica and I are going to the police station. We’ll know more after that meeting,” Abby said.
“Who is Veronica?” Magda asked.
“I am, Veronica Hurgoi,” she replied, leaning toward the cell phone. “I’ve been Abby’s translator since she came north.”
“Will you call us as soon as you know anything?” Tavian asked.
“Of course. I have your home, cell, and the number at the restaurant. You will be the first to know,” Abby replied.
“How much will we know before we leave for Oslo?”
Trixie was taken aback by her mother’s statement. “You’re both going to Oslo?”
“The last time I checked.”
Trixie looked up at Shaye, who shrugged. She didn’t know why she assumed either one or both of them would miss seeing her compete live at the Olympics. Given the tension lately between her and her mother, she assumed Magda would not be attending the festivities.
“When are you heading there?” Tavian asked.
Galya replied, “The day after tomorrow.”
“So we will be there a week after you,” Magda said. “Your competition starts soon after the opening ceremonies, right?”
“The next day,” Trixie confirmed. “Mom? Dad?”
“Yes?” they said together.
“I’m glad you’ll be there. I’m sorry to tell you about Ileana like this.”
“Honestly, love, it is a relief,” Magda said. “Everything makes much more sense now. It is still awful, but…it is good to know the truth.”
Trixie was glad her parents felt the same way she did. Even if they disagreed and told her not to pursue justice, she would have gone behind their backs and done it anyway, with or without Abby. She needed to know her sister had died not by accident and not because she was trying desperately to be just like her. She was a victim, of chance, of circumstance, whatever you wanted to call it, she was a victim, and her death had nothing to do with Trixie.
“I’ll see you in Oslo.” She hung up on her parents and looked at Abby. “I guess that’s that.”
Abby nodded back at her. “Like I said, Veronica and I will go to the police tomorrow morning.”
“What are you going to say?” Shaye wondered.
“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll start at the beginning.” She looked down at her watch and saw it was nearly ten o’clock. “All right. I’m done with this day. I’m going up to my room.”
“Can I watch TV with you?” Shaye asked.
“Me, too,” Trixie decided. She wasn’t ready to go to bed, but she wanted to lie down and relax.
“I’m going to stay down here and have a drink,” Veronica said. “It’s not often I’m in a fancy hotel without the kids. Or with the kids, for that matter.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Galya said. “I could use a drink as well.”
“No kidding,” Fides agreed wholeheartedly.
Trixie pretended to be as relieved by the truth as everyone else. She tried to smile and profess her thanks to all these strangers who went out on a limb for her. Inside, though, she felt a loneliness so deep and profound she thought she might drown in it. Her parents might be coming to Norway, but she held no illusions that her family would ever be whole again.