Caroline Rosenstein's viewing

[Jordanna]

(See new thread in Other Locations first)


Alex and Miriam reached the mortuary without incident. He pulled up to the back door just long enough to let her out, still bundled up in the burkha; she would let herself in with her own key, and wait in Casselton's office. Then Alex parked his car and went in through the front entrance. A sign in the reception area pointed toward the chapel, and he hurried down the hall.

In the chapel, Alex paused at the doorway to take stock of the scene. It broke his heart all over again to see Sid and the children gathered around Caroline's casket, which rested amidst a small forest of flowers.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Alex appraised the rest of the attendees. Henry Casselton and two of his funeral assistants were hovering at the edges of the room. Regina Dawson was sitting in a shadowed corner, her fedora in her lap; she nodded slightly to Alex when he looked her way. Even Consuela Ramirez was there with her rosary beads. The rest of the mourners were employees of the Paragon Club, social friends of Caroline, and a few relatives... including her cousin, Antonio Comancini. The young godfather of the Comancini crime family sat on one of the front pews, flanked by two very large, bored-looking bodyguards.

With his olive skin, glossy black hair, and neat mustache, Tony cut a darkly handsome figure. Even in funereal black, the designer suit and Italian silk tie that clothed his bullish figure were extravagant. He wore heavy gold rings on his fingers the way one might have worn brass knuckles--and they had helped him to knock out a few teeth now and then. He was, in Sid's private words, a "punk": arrogant, flashy, and violent. He'd learned more about running a mob from the movies than he had from his shrewd uncle Enzio, Caroline's late father.

Alex grimaced. Tony and Sid had never particularly liked each other, and with Caroline no longer around to act as a buffer between them...

He shook his head. That was something to worry about later; at the moment, his only concern was for Sid and the children. Steeling himself, he made his way down the aisle and respectfully approached the grieving family at the casket.

Sid turned slightly and looked up at him, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. Neither man spoke; Alex simply put his arms around Sid's shoulders and hugged him. He looked briefly at Caroline's too-peaceful face, and although not a man of any particular religion, he felt a curious, superstitious urge to cross himself. Then he turned to embrace each of the quietly sobbing children in turn. Tara let him go, but Holly and Caleb both clung to him, so he knelt down and held them until it was time for the proper service to begin.

Alex wanted to let Casselton know what was waiting for him in his office, but he never got the chance. While the priest delivered the standard funerary platitudes, the entertainer was pinned down by the children, who continued holding onto him after they were seated. Then--unexpectedly soon, he thought--the priest introduced him to sing a few of Caroline's favorite hymns. Reluctantly, he squirmed away from the children and stepped forward.

As he turned to face the assemblage of mourners, Alex also faced the chapel doors. At some point they had been closed... but they were cracked open now, and he saw Miriam solemnly looking in through the opening.

Although his heart missed a beat, Alex did not, and he proceeded to sing "My Faith Looks Up to Thee" in a soft, clear voice. Yet very slowly, he edged toward the side of the room where Casselton stood next to a tall flower arrangement, and gave the mortuary owner the most communicative glances he dared to. Fortunately, most of the mourners had their heads bowed; with the possible exception of Miss Dawson, no one else noticed his shuffling.

It took Casselton several moments to catch on, but at last he followed Alex's anxious glances toward the door. Seeing Miriam, he turned pale, and with a slight nod to Alex, he quietly hurried out.

Mentally breathing a sigh of relief, Alex turned his full attention to the hymn.

[Jordanna]

By the time Henry stepped out of the chapel, Miriam had already seen him coming and retreated. He was just in time to see her vanish into his office. He followed quickly, his blood pressure rising, and found her seated on the edge of his desk.

"Miriam, what in heaven's name are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Henry. I had to come. I just need to--to touch base on what's going on, and find out if there's anything I can do. Besides, I wanted to pay my respects to Mrs. Rosenstein."

"But how did you get here?"

"Alex brought me. Don't blame him," she added swiftly, as Henry's face turned slightly red with agitation. "I told him I was going to get here whether he helped me or not."

"So it's 'Alex' now," Henry murmured.

"Oh, Henry. He's--" Miriam paused, and smiled ruefully. "He's a very nice man."

Henry sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry I didn't listen to you earlier. I just... want you to be safe."

Miriam smiled--but then, abruptly, she gasped and doubled over, a shudder passing through her.

It was something Henry had seen before, and he knew what it was. Swiftly he stepped forward, putting his arms around her shoulders before she could slip off the edge of the desk. He held her for a moment while her breathing steadied.

"That's the second one since I got here," Miriam murmured, straightening slightly without pulling away from him. "How many bodies have you got in the cooler?"

"Just the two. Unless someone else drops dead, you'll not have any more spells." Henry gently ran his hand over her forehead. "Your range has expanded. This office used to be a safe distance from the cooler for you. Are you alright now?"

"Oh, sure. Just peachy. That's exactly what's wrong." Miriam pulled away from him and crossed the room, without turning to face him. "The visions still hurt on the inside as much as ever--but afterward, physically, I feel stronger. More alert." She shivered. "Taking energy from the dead... I feel more like a grave robber than ever."

"You mustn't think of it like that." Stepping forward, Henry put his hands on her shoulders. "Consider it a gift from those who have gone before, giving you strength to help bring justice to those whose lives were stolen."

Miriam turned to face him. There were tears on her face, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. "A lot of good I can do now, Henry."

"Your chance will come." Henry smoothed her hair and gently kissed her forehead. "As much as I hate to admit it, you've too much will to be held down by anything. You simply have to be patient."

[Jordanna]

After Alex had sung, Sid couldn't bring himself to look at Caroline's body again. Some of her friends ventured up to the casket, but the grieving husband remained huddled on the front pew, dry-eyed and empty of heart. The children had once again clustered around Alex, and Sid did not begrudge his friend that. He was glad enough for the chance to collect his thoughts alone.

To know the name of his wife's murderer, and be silent, was the deepest anguish imaginable... but he had no choice. Without proof of Nicholas Tiernan's crimes, to accuse him publicly would only sign a death warrant for himself and his family--and begin a war between the Comancini mob and the mutant mafia that he knew could spark a catastrophic cycle of mutant-human violence. He was afraid for people like Alex, and Regina Dawson, and their brave young doctor friend whom he had not met. He couldn't let them pay the price for his grief and desire for vengeance.

He just didn't know what to do next.

A shadow fell over Sid. Blinking wearily, he looked up, and saw Tony looming over him.

Sid had always suspected his cousin-in-law's disdain for him was somewhat anti-Semitic. Tony had also never approved of Sid's quitting the racket, even though it was his uncle's own wish. While Enzio Comancini was alive, the brash young capo remained on a leash--but ever since he'd assumed power over the crime family, he had been lurking around more often, trying to find some angle that would make Sid and his club useful to him. Now that Caroline was dead, there would be little to keep Tony away from the Paragon.

"We're all sorry, Sid. Carrie was the jewel of the family." Tony put his hands on Sid's shoulders, looking at him with an air of oily grimness that passed for sympathy. "If you know anything about what happened to her, you tell your Cousin Tony."

The or else was unspoken, but clearly present. Sid peered up at Tony through puffy eyes, with a vague resentment, but he only shook his head. "There's nothin', Tony... she just died."

"I don't believe it. And I'm gonna find the guy who put Carrie in that box. That's a promise."

Tony's eyes were hard and dark. He squeezed Sid's shoulders, with a firmness that was less than friendly, then let go and turned to approach the casket. His enforcers dutifully lumbered along beside him, elbowing the other mourners out of the way.

Sid glared bitterly at Tony's back for a moment. Then he slowly stood up and went over to Alex, who was sitting with Caleb on his lap and the girls curled up on either side of him. When Sid sat down beside Tara, she leaned over onto his shoulder instead, scrubbing at her eyes with a half-disintegrated tissue.

"The Doc is here," Alex murmured, as he stroked Holly's hair. "I haven't gotten to Miss Dawson yet."

[skybright]

Regina Dawson didn't much care for funerals; she didn't suppose that anyone did, of course, but still -- they quite literally raised her hackles. When Alex Malone had asked if she'd be attending Caroline Rosenstein's service, she'd almost said no -- but something in the entertainer's eyes had persuaded her otherwise. If she really was going to be as involved as she seemed to be, suddenly, in these people's lives, they deserved her presence here.

So she'd dug out what she thought of privately as her "Ash Wednesday" clothes -- a black blouse and jacket and the only skirt she owned -- and she'd done what she could to tame her unruly black hair. She'd kept her trenchcoat and fedora, though -- they looked out-of-place, but she'd do that anyway.

Daws fingered her own rosary as Alex Malone sang, only half-concentrating on the Sorrowful Mysteries. She saw the Rosenstein's maid doing the same, and wondered briefly if Consuela's decidedly negative image of her was improved any by their shared faith. She somehow doubted it.

She waited until the small knot of Caroline Rosenstein's friends moved away before she stood, placed her fedora on her chair, and approached the casket. Daws considered the face of this woman she'd never known -- this woman she somehow still felt she had failed.

Daws supposed she'd probably drawn a bad hand when it came to deaths; starting with her father's, the only deaths she'd been connected with had been sudden and usually violent ones. Perhaps because of that, she'd never understood why people talked about the dead looking "peaceful".

To Daws, the dead just looked cheated.

Caroline Rosenstein was no exception. She was too young to be here, with too much of her children's lives ahead of her -- too much she'd never see.

Daws glanced sideways at where the children were huddled at Alex Malone's side -- and saw a small fleet's worth of Mob muscle headed her way.

[Jordanna]

Tony Comancini was not so much grieving as merely playing a role.

He was in love with his cousin Caroline once--or at least thought he was--when they were very young. She had been aware of his feelings and gently rebuffed him, and when she'd married a minor enforcer who turned out to be more interested in entertaining people than pushing them around, Tony's affections for her turned cold. Still, he had taken it as a point of family honor to zealously protect her and all that belonged to her.

With Caroline gone, he wasn't inclined to think of Sid Rosenstein as a member of the family any longer--but his children were. The obligation Tony felt to that next generation of the family now warred with his personal interest in the Paragon Club, and he wasn't sure how he was going to play the situation.

All he did know was that Caroline's death was nothing natural--and when he found the guy who caused it, that person would wish he'd never been born.

It was with that thought in his mind that he approached the casket, heedless of the milling mourners being plowed out of his path by his enforcers. Fat socialites and young waiters from the Paragon Club were parted before him like the Red Sea, clearing his way...

But the figure standing in front of the casket didn't move. She merely turned and looked over her shoulder--giving Tony a glimpse of a face that was anything but human.

Tony reached out and caught the arms of the two thugs flanking him, pulling them to a halt. Then he rubbed his chin ponderingly and stepped forward, sizing up the strange creature as he moved around to her side.

It was a mutie, alright.

"Who are you?" he asked flatly,although he managed to keep his voice low.

[skybright]

In any other time and place, the disdain in the guy's voice would've provoked Daws to a smart-alec remark or worse.

Instead, she merely sized him up calmly (pegging him as Caroline's cousin Tony, of whom she had heard nothing good) and said levelly "Regina Dawson. Friend of the family."

Then she stepped to the side -- not a retreat, just a concession -- and pointedly looked away, as if the conversation wasn't worth any more of her time.

[Jordanna]

Tony eyed Daws with contempt and suspicion. Under other circumstances, he would dealt with the mutie much less diplomatically... but this was a funeral service. With a quiet snort, he turned his back on her, trying to focus on his last few moments with Caroline.

Daws' words remained in his head, though. Friend of the family... What kind of crowd was Sid running with--and exposing those kids of his to? Tony determined to have a word about that with his cousin-in-law at a more appropriate time.


Alex Malone noticed the exchange between Daws and Tony, and watched it with bated breath. When it ended without incident, he sighed in relief and stood up, gently moving Caleb from his lap to Sid's. Then he hurried over to Daws.

"That's Tony. Don't mess with him," he murmured. He touched the detective's elbow and guided her a few more steps away from the mobster, then added quietly, "The Doc's here. My fault."

[skybright]

Daws winced. "She under wraps?"

Malone nodded, and Daws wondered exactly what the odd, almost-amused look on his face was all about. She surveyed the room quickly, and cursed inwardly as she spotted two or three of the Rosensteins' acquaintances from the Police Department. She sighed -- even funerals had to have their hazards, apparently -- and nodded.

"Okay. I'll talk to her once everyone's cleared out. Can't risk anyone following us to her right now, though."

She searched Malone's face -- grief seemed to have aged him significantly in the few short weeks she'd known him -- and touched his shoulder. "How you holding up?"

[Jordanna]

Alex half-smiled gratefully and shrugged. "I'm okay. I'll be alright in a few days, when I'm back to work. I just want to focus on the kids now... Tara's not doing so good."

[skybright]

Daws shook her head and sighed. "Can't say I blame her." She glanced over at where the young teenager was sitting, staring tearfully at the floor with her head on her father's shoulder.

"Poor kid." She murmured, echoing what she'd said and thought before. Then she looked back to Malone.

"If you need any help . . ." She let the thought trail off, not sure exactly what help she could be. Domestic matters were not Daws' strong point; but she still found herself wishing there was something she could do to help the Rosenstein family.

Daws half-smiled and added "You know -- besides snooping."

[Jordanna]

Alex shook his head. "Nah. I'm fine as long as I'm busy--and that's one thing I am. Besides helping Sid out at home, I'll be back on stage at the club next week."

He frowned. "The person who needs help is the Doc. I think she's gonna go crazy if she can't get out of Mr. Casselton's house and do something. That place is even more of a museum than his office."

[skybright]

Daws sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I can't blame her, either. I'd be doin' the same thing in her place."

She glanced around the room; most of the mourners had quietly dispersed, and the remainder seemed completely focused on each other or on the Rosenstein family. She nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna go talk to the Doc, see if I can get her to calm down some. Maybe have her take up knitting or something." She grinned halfheartedly and patted Malone's shoulder.

"You guys take care of yourselves. Call me if you need anything -- or if anything suspicious goes on at the club."

[Jordanna]

Alex shrugged ruefully and nodded. "Yeah. I'll either be at Sid's or at the club, so you'll know where to find me. I... guess I'll see you later, I guess."

He glanced over his shoulder toward Sid and the children, and with a sigh, he turned and went back over to them.

[skybright]

Daws slipped across the room and retrieved her fedora and trenchcoat from where she'd left them. She glanced around the room, just in case; and then let her gaze rest briefly on Caroline Rosenstein's coffin.

I'm sorry, Daws thought sadly, I'm sorry Tiernan pulled you into this. And I'm going to get him. I promise.

She crossed herself, settled her fedora on her head and shrugged into her trenchcoat, and slipped out of the room.

Daws knew her way around Casselton Mortuary pretty well by now; it took her only a moment to make her way to Henry Casselton's office. She paused outside the door; and, hearing no obvious voices, she knocked gently.

[Jordanna]

Miriam and Henry had both been sitting in a rather glum silence for a while when they heard the knock on the door. Henry responded with a wary "Who is it?" as he rose from his perch on the edge of the desk. Hearing Daws' voice respond, he went to the door and let her in.

"Hello, Miss Dawson," Miriam said as she stood up, not very enthusiastically. Judging by Henry's reaction to her presence, she now expected more of a scolding for being there than any productive suggestions of what she could do.

[skybright]

"Hey, Doc." Daws pushed her fedora back and sighed. Then she shot a glance at Henry Casselton. "Y'mind giving us a minute, Mr. Casselton?"

[Jordanna]

Although Henry looked rather concerned, he spread his hands and retreated from the office.

As the door closed, Miriam sighed and glanced at Daws. "I know... I'm in for a reprimand. I won't bother to point out how you'd feel in my place."

[skybright]

Daws couldn't help chuckling. "I'd have clawed my way out through the walls." She sighed and took a seat in one of Casselton's overstuffed leather chairs.

"Look, Doc, I'm not your mother and I was always a lousy babysitter. I can't tell ya what to do. But," She looked gravely at Van Linden, "I'm just wondering if you realize how important you are to this whole ball game."

[Jordanna]

"Important?" Miriam repeated incredulously. "But I'm not. Maybe I was before, when I could investigate through the M.E.'s office--but now, if anything, I'm more of a liability than a help. That's all the more reason I want to do something. Unlike the rest of you, I've got nothing left to lose."

[skybright]

Daws shook her head. "Look, Doc, let me be completely honest with ya. Nicholas Tiernan's hired me to find you. He's not happy about the death of his man.

"Now, obviously, I'm doin' what I can to make Tiernan think I'm looking for you. But if someone else gets ahold of you -- cop or otherwise -- sooner or later, you're gonna end up in Nicholas Tiernan's hands.

"If Tiernan catches me, I die, right? If Tiernan finds out that Malone knows who killed Caroline, Malone dies. But if Tiernan gets ahold of you, he finds out about our whole fledgling-resistance-movement gig -- and we're all done for."

Daws spread her hands and shrugged. "More to the point, Doc, you represent somethin'. You stood up to Tiernan -- by hiring me, by killing Gordie Spakes. And so far, you're gettin' away with it. So long as you keep getting away with it, you're living proof that people can stand up to Nicholas Tiernan."

She half-grinned. "You ever seen Casablanca, Doc? Because right now, you're Victor Laszlo."