Four Blind Mice

about my grandfather very often. He had died when he was just forty-four. He’d been a teacher too, just like Nana, though he taught math and she was English. They had met while working at the same school in Southeast.
    “Your grandfather was an excellent man, Alex. Loved to dress up and wear a nice hat. I still have most of his hats. You go through the Depression, things we saw, you like to dress up sometimes. Gives you a nice feeling about yourself.”
    She looked over at me. “I made a mistake, though, Alex.”
    I glanced over at her. “
You
made a mistake? This is a great shock. I’d better pull over to the side of the road.”
    She cackled. “Just one that I can recall. See, I knew how good it could be to fall in love. I really loved Charles. After he died, though, I never tried to find love again. I think I was afraid of failing. Isn’t that pathetic, Alex? I was too afraid to go after the best thing I ever found in this life.”
    I reached over and patted her shoulder. “Don’t talk like you’re leaving us.”
    “Oh, I’m not. I have a lot of confidence in Doc Kayla. She would tell me if it was time for me to start collecting on all my old debts. Which I plan to do, by the way.”
    “So, this is a parable, a lesson?”
    Nana shook her head. “Not really. Just an anecdote while we’re taking this nice ride in your car. Drive on, young man. Drive on. I’m enjoying this immensely. We should do it more often. How about every Sunday?”
    The whole ride out to Virginia and back, we never once talked about Nana’s procedure in the hospital the next morning. She obviously didn’t want to, and I respected that. But the operation, at her age, scared me as much as any murder case could. No, actually it scared me more.
    When we got back to the house I went upstairs and called Jamilla. She was at work, but we talked for nearly an hour anyway.
    Then I sat down at my computer. For the first time since I got back from Georgia I pulled up my notes on the Three Blind Mice. There was still one big question I needed to answer if I could. Big
if
.
    Who was behind the three of them?
    Who was the real killer?

Chapter 102
    I FELL ASLEEP at my work desk, woke up about three in the morning. I went down to my bedroom for a couple of hours. The alarm sounded at five.
    Nana was scheduled to be at St. Anthony’s Hospital at six-thirty.
    Dr. Coles wanted her to be one of the first operations of the day, while everybody on the staff was fresh and alert. Aunt Tia stayed at the house with Little Alex, but I brought Damon and Jannie with me to the hospital.
    We sat in the typically antiseptic-looking waiting room, which really started to fill up with people about seven-thirty. Everybody in there looked nervous and concerned and fidgety, but I think we were probably right up there with the worst of the lot.
    “How long does the operation take?” Damon wanted to know.
    “Not long. Nana might not have gone in first, though. It all depends. It’s a simple procedure, Damon. Electrical energy is delivered to the AV node. The electricity is a little like the heat in a microwave. It disconnects the pathway between the atria and the ventricles and will stop the extra impulses causing Nana’s irregular heartbeat. Got all that? Don’t hold me to it, but that’s fairly close to what’s happening.”
    “Is Nana wide-awake while it’s happening?” Jannie wanted to know.
    “Probably. You know your Nana. They gave her a mild sedative and then local anesthesia.”
    “Won’t touch her,” Jannie said.
    So we talked and waited, fretted and worried, and it took longer than I thought it should. I tried not to let my mind wander to bad places. I wanted to stay in touch with the moment.
    I conjured up good memories of Nana, and they were a little like prayers. I thought about how much she had meant to me, but also to the kids. None of us would be where we were without Nana’s unconditional love, her confidence in us, and even her needling — irritating as it could be sometimes.
    “When is she coming out?” Jannie looked at me. Her beautiful brown eyes were full of uncertainty and fear. It struck me that Nana had really been a mother to all of us. Nana Mama was more mama than nana.
    “Is she all right?” Damon asked. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Don’t you think this is taking too long?”
    Unfortunately, I thought so too. “She’s just fine,” I said to the children.
    More time passed. Slowly. Finally, I looked up