V Is for Vengeance

allegation. “As far as I know, there’s no truth to the rumor, which from our perspective appears to be purely fanciful.” Priddy said a full-scale investigation was under way but that he was confident no evidence of gang activity would surface. Millhone did not return repeated phone calls requesting comment.
Vance is the eighteenth Santa Teresa County resident to plunge to her death. Caltrans representative Wilson Carter called the loss of lives resulting from individuals jumping from the 400-foot-high bridge a “regrettable and entirely preventable tragedy.” Statistical studies show that barriers erected on comparable structures contribute significantly to the reduction in suicide attempts. Carter further stated, “The long-term emotional and financial toll as a direct result of suicide offers a compelling argument for the construction of such a barrier, which has long been under discussion by state and county officials.”
A bereaved Striker expressed the hope that his loss, however painful, might spur renewed interest in the project. In the meantime, the probe into the circumstances surrounding Vance’s death suggests few if any answers to the sad and troubling questions generated by her fall from a bridge where so many have ended their lives in despair and isolation.

    My entire body was engulfed in heat. Diana Alvarez had slanted the truth, insinuating actions and attitudes I had no way to refute. It didn’t surprise me she’d talked to a Santa Teresa Police Department vice detective. The fact that it was Len Priddy was just my bad luck, unless she’d somehow picked up on his disdain for me. His use of the terms “allegation” and “purely fanciful” in the same sentence suggested I was deluded. It was obvious he considered me a buffoon. She’d also implied that Claudia and I were deliberately ducking her inquiries into a sensitive matter of importance to the community at large.
    The woman was dangerous. I hadn’t understood before the power of her position. She could present the so-called facts in any light she wanted, using neutral-sounding language to drive her point home. How many times had I read similar accounts and taken the contents at face value? The gospel according to Diana Alvarez was anything she wanted the public to believe. She was sticking it up my nose because she knew I had no way to fight back. She hadn’t defamed me and nothing she’d said had been libelous. Taking issue with her would only make me appear defensive, which would further her views.
    I got up and walked back to the kitchenette. I poured myself a cup of coffee. I had to hold the mug with two hands to keep the surface steady. I carried the coffee back to my desk, wondering how soon my phone would start to ring. What I was graced with instead was a visit from Marvin Striker, who had a copy of the paper tucked under one arm.
    He looked as dapper as ever. Even in the midst of fuming, I had to admire the conservative dress code to which he adhered. No jeans and flannel shirts for him. He wore dark slacks, a muted sport coat, a white dress shirt, and a gray wool tie. His shoes were polished and he smelled of aftershave. In an earlier age, he would have been known as a dandy, or a swell, or a man about town.
    He noticed the paper lying on my desk, which saved him beating around the bush. “I see you read the article, same as me. So what did you think?”
    “You come off looking a lot better than I do, that’s for sure,” I said. “I told you she was a troublemaker.”
    I gestured him into a chair.
    He sat down, posture erect, his hands on his knees. “I’m not sure I’d call her a troublemaker. Granted, she’s got a different point of view, but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong. Like she says, she’s looking at the bigger picture. I already got two calls this morning, wanting me to sign a petition in support of the suicide-prevention barrier.”
    “Oh, come on, Marvin. That’s a smokescreen. She’s using the issue to stick it up my nose. She doesn’t like it that I won’t jump when she says jump.”
    He stirred uneasily. “I can see you’re taking this personally, which is a mistake in my opinion. I understand you don’t like criticism. None of us want to be held up to public scrutiny, so I don’t fault you for that.”
    I waited. He made no response. I said, “Finish the sentence. You don’t fault me for that so what do you fault me for?”
    “Well, you know . . . that vice detective didn’t