Chapter 97: The Rottingens

I made a few phone calls that afternoon to the security company we used. I needed an updated profile on Suzie’s situation. Brewster and John had spooked me about the possibility of Suzie being used against me. I also told Marilyn I was going to travel out to Rochester to see her and talk. Marilyn asked if she should go as well, and I simply said that it was better if I made the first visit alone. I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I just didn’t know enough.

The report came back, the way it had before. Now, after talking to the various lawyers, I realized just how much was available without any kind of effort. It had her address and unlisted phone number, valuations of her home from county tax records, and her salary at the Mayo Clinic. It also had the same information on her husband, a State Police officer, including his work history and a summary of his first marriage and subsequent divorce. It had the names and ages of their children, as well as the schools they went to.

Their work schedules were listed as well, and they were normal day shifts. I packed my bags and ordered a plane gassed up for a flight to Rochester on Friday. Knowing my luck, they would be spending a long weekend camping or something, but I had to take a chance. I needed to do this in person, and not on the phone. On the phone, Suzie could duck me if she wanted to. Before I left the house that morning, Marilyn stopped me and said, “Give your sister my love. Tell her we’d like to see her for a visit.”

I nodded. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

I was booked into the Kahler in downtown Rochester, right next door to the Mayo Clinic. I was tempted for a second to make my visit there, but that would just cause problems. No, it was best to do this at her home. I had a secure driver and a small limousine at my service, so after checking in and unpacking, I had a late lunch or early supper, and then we drove out to her home. I was glad I had worn my heavy lined trench coat and gloves! It was cold in Minnesota in the winter! Once again, I was reminded of the wisdom in moving back to Maryland and not New York. This place was even colder than upstate New York! Why anybody actually wants to live in the snow is beyond me.

My driver drove us out into the suburbs and eventually turned into a rabbit’s warren of streets. A few minutes later he pulled up to a mid-sized colonial and stopped. Lights were on inside, and I could see a few shadows through the curtains. “We’re here, sir,” commented my driver.

I glanced at the number on the side of the house, and it matched the address on the dossier. I tucked that inside my coat and pulled on my gloves. “Thank you. I don’t know how long I’ll be. It could be quite a while.”

“Yes, sir, understood. Do you think there’s any kind of security risk, above the usual, I mean?”

I almost laughed at that. “Probably not. The lady inside is my sister. You have family?”

He did laugh at that. “Yes, sir. That’s the most dangerous type of situation.”

“Very true. Well, if I think I’m going to be a while, I’ll come out and let you know.” I let myself out of the car and walked up to the front door. “Here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself.

I pressed a button on the side of the door, and I could hear a bell ring on the inside. I heard the scamper of small feet rushing and then a little face peered out of a sidelight at me. “Somebody’s at the door!” cried out loudly.

In response, a much deeper and louder voice said, “Out of the way, I’ll open the door.” The little feet went scampering off again, and a few seconds later the door opened. It was a stocky guy, but shorter than me, with a shaved head and no neck, who looked like a serious weightlifter. “Hello,” he said.

“Hello. Sergeant Rottingen?”

“Yes.”

“Could I see Mrs. Rottingen, please?”

He eyed me curiously, but then half turned down the hallway. I could see the little face who had peeked at me through the window looking around the corner at me. I just smiled at him, and he ducked back out of sight. I smiled at that. Bullet-Head called out, “Suzanna?”

I heard a familiar voice yell back, “Who is it?”

“Somebody for you.”

“Hold on.”

I heard a clatter coming from the rear of the home, and then a woman with short blonde hair was backing down the hallway towards us, scolding a child mildly and drying a sippee cup with a dish towel at the same time. After a moment she turned and looked at her husband, and then, getting closer, turned to face me.

“Long time, no see, Suzie,” I said.

Well, damned if she didn’t drop the cup and drop dead in a faint! Bullet-Head grabbed her from behind and picked her up easily.

I looked at him and said, “I guess I should have called ahead of time.”

He gave me a hard look, and then said, “You must be Carl Buckman.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, come on in. I’ve been wondering when we’d be meeting you. Come on in.” He stepped back and I let myself in, closing the doors behind us. He led the way into a front living room, where I found myself stared at by three boys, the oldest of whom was demanding to know what was going on. Their father ordered them out of the room and laid Suzie down on the couch. He gently tapped her on the cheek a few times until she stirred awake.

She looked around in confusion, and then saw me standing there a few feet away. At that she turned white as a ghost. Her mouth began moving but no coherent words were coming out. “Suzie, why don’t you give me a chance to talk to your husband?” I asked.

Her husband nodded and pulled her upright. “Go upstairs and freshen up. I want to talk to your brother for a bit,” he told her.

She looked at him wildly. “You know?”

“I’ve known for years, Suzanna. Just give us a few minutes.”

My sister looked at us both wildly, and then left. Her husband pointed at an armchair and ordered, “Sit.” Then he sat down in a matching chair a few feet away.

I sat down and said, “Thank you. You know who I am?”

He shrugged. “The only people who could have caused that reaction in Suzanna would have been her family, and you’re not old enough to be her father, so you have to be her brother. You’re Carl Buckman, right?”

I nodded and repeated, “That’s me. Suzie doesn’t know that you know?”

“Suzie ... I’ve always known her as Suzanna. Strange, isn’t it?” I just made a wry smile and shrugged. “My name is John. I met Suzanna shortly after she moved to Rochester and started at the Mayo Clinic, and we hit it off almost immediately. At the time, she told me she was an only child, and her parents back home had died in a car crash. Anyway, we kept seeing each other and it was getting a lot more serious, and I wanted to know more about her, but it was like nothing had happened before she showed up in Rochester. I’d been a cop long enough to know something wasn’t right.”

I nodded, and he continued. “So, anyway, before I asked her to marry me, I had a detective pal of mine run a background check on her. I mean, was I about to marry a mob hit-woman or something? A day later he told me her parents weren’t dead, but she had changed her name and left home after one brother killed the other brother. That got us both to wondering and we checked it out with the local cops.”

“And you never said anything to her?”

It was his turn to look embarrassed. “And let her know I had been investigating her? Whatever the problem was, it didn’t involve her, so I let it slide. We got married in the winter of ‘84.”

I smiled at that. “And now we both have to let her know her secret is out. Don’t be too hard on her. It’s not her fault that her family was a disaster. She was the only normal one in the bunch! She was just trying to escape.”

At that point, the three boys came around the corner and looked in. The oldest one, who looked to be about ten or eleven, said, “Dad, is Mom all right?”

John’s face softened and he said, “Your mom isn’t feeling good right now, and she’s lying down. She’ll be fine. Now, you guys scoot. I need to talk to Mister Buckman, here.”

The two older boys looked at me curiously. The baby, a two-year-old, toddled off to his father. John picked him up and said, “Whooh! Somebody stinks! Jack! Get back here!”

The oldest boy came in and looked at his father with horror. “No! Dad! No!”

“You just got promoted! I don’t want to hear it!” There was another pro forma protest and a final order of “GO!”

We looked at each other again. “He’s my boy from my first marriage. Suzanna’s more his mother than his real mom. I have full custody, and Suzanna’s offered to adopt him, but his mother won’t hear of it.”

“I bet Suzie gets the evil stepmother jokes, though.”

That earned a big grin. “More than you can believe! Anyway, tell me more about her family.”

We talked for another fifteen minutes or so, until Suzie came back down the stairs. She was still white faced but was now clutching a small box of some sort. She looked terrified, but came into the living room, followed closely by the toddler, who ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her knees. The older two boys came around the corner and stared. Jack, the oldest, said, “Mom, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” He gave me a dirty look.

“Nothing’s wrong. I ... nothing’s wrong.”

“Who is this guy? Did he say something to you?”

“Jack! You don’t talk like that to grownups!” said his father.

Suzie reached over and pulled her stepson to her side and hugged him. “It’s all right. He just surprised me. This is your Uncle Carl.”

That earned me a very confused look. “I don’t have an Uncle Carl.”

“This is my brother, Carl, so that makes him your uncle.”

“You told us you didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, but ... someday you’ll understand. Jack, this is your Uncle Carl.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack. You’re named after your father?”

That earned me a surly, “Yes sir,” but nobody minded. I was also introduced to Alex, the four-year-old, and Harry, the toddler. I already had their names from the dossier, but there was no sense in introducing that element yet.

Suzie shooed the boys out of the room, so it was just us three adults. She turned to face her husband. “You knew?”

“I’ve known since before we got married.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

He shrugged. “Tell you what? That I knew you were lying to me? That I didn’t trust you and had you investigated? None of it seemed that important, so I let you continue. You can tell me at your own speed.”

“Even after your last wife, you married me?” Suzie was crying now, quietly. I got the impression that John Rottingen’s first marriage had not been a joyful union.

“I guess I’m attracted to screwed up ladies,” he joked. Suzie groaned at that and kept crying. He handed her a tissue.

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and then looked over at me. “Carl, why are you here? How long have you known about me here?”

“I’ve known about you being here since you moved. My security company has an investigation arm. I had them trace you and keep an eye on you.”

The Minnesota State Trooper eyed me coldly at that. “You’ve had us under surveillance?”

I raised a hand pleadingly. “Absolutely not! I’ve simply had them give me a periodic update as to phone numbers and addresses, that sort of thing. About like what your detective friend and you did to track down Suzie’s background,” I pointed out.

I turned back to my sister. “Suzie, I don’t claim to understand why you think you had to run away like that, but both Marilyn and I honored your wishes. Now, though, I have to talk to you. Things are changing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that your little secret is about to come out. As a businessman, nobody cares about who my sister is. As a politician, they care. I’m going to be running for Congress next year, and people will be looking into my background. You need to know before reporters start camping out on your front lawn and asking your kids a bunch of questions,” I told them.

Both their eyes opened wide. “Oh, Christ! You’re serious, aren’t you?” asked John.

“Very. The experts back home all seem to think my opponent will stop at nothing to discredit me. My killing Hamilton will just be the start. They think he’ll go after Mom and Dad, too. I used to tell people you had moved to California, but I stopped when my lawyers said that would turn back and haunt me. He’ll come after you, too.”