Fall Fridays ~ A Short Story

Dust was everywhere… “No wonder she always does such a poor job of cleaning other people’s homes, she can’t even take care of her own!” Tomasina Finkle stood in the doorway of her maid’s home, clutching her coat to her as if in fear of it being pulled off her by the dirt and grime that seemed to be ubiquitous.

Trudy Gallagher had been the Finkle’s maid for almost 37 years; working in their house since she was 11 years old, when her mother had died. Trudy was forced to work, while her father mourned her mother’s death, finding his form of consolation in the bottom of brown paper bag. It had been left to Trudy to see that her younger brother was taken care of and that required money.

Tomasina cared little for the woes of her maid’s hard life. Her only concern was why the dreadful girl hadn’t been around to clean in over a week. Tomasina Finkle would not stand for that kind of disrespect and was determined to find out what Trudy’s pathetic excuse was.

Tip toeing around the house Tomasina paid little attention to the old family photos, hung on the wall and faded from time. She ignored the smell of mildew that permeated the air. She was more concerned with the state of her maid’s house than the fact that her servant was human. The maid’s life was, of course, no business of her’s, until it got in the way of Trudy’s responsibilities to Tomasina Finkle.

Tomasina carefully walked down the hallway and to her left noticed a door slightly ajar and a weak light shining from underneath it. “Now I’ve found you”, Tomasina thought to herself, “caught in the act.” Slowly she opened the door toward her, being careful not to be seen by her unsuspecting maid. Tomasina had a glint of sheer delight in her eye at the possible chance of catching Trudy lazing about.

Once the door was open wide enough for Tomasina to slip through it, she stepped full in to the dim light and stepped down silently on to the first of the stone steps, grinning ear to ear. One the landing she peered down in to the basement, her eyes adjusting. Tomasina’s hand flew to her mouth, pathetically attempting to stifle her scream. Turning back toward the door she tripped on the first step, grasping for the railing and pulled herself up the stairs.

Tomasina raced out of the house, no longer paying attention to its dust and clutter. Once outside her maid’s house Tomasina quickly walked to her waiting car and got in, looking all about wondering if anyone had seen her.

The house wife next door to Trudy’s had seen Tomasina Finkle running from the maid’s house and had heard a scream. Quickly she walked to her own hallway and picked up the received, “Yes, officer, I want to make a report. I believe there’s been a murder.”

Tomasina Finkle drew herself a bath and tried to boil what she had seen out of her mind. The image of Trudy Gallagher lying dead, in a pool of blood, at the bottom of the basement stairs was bothering her more than she believed it should. After a good, long soak Tomasina was once again ready to face reality: her maid was dead and she must find a new one.

There was a sharp rap at the door while Tomasina thumbed through the telephone directory searching for a new house cleaner. “Ma’am, there are two officers here to see you”, the Finkle’s butler mumbled.

“What?” Tomasina thought to herself, they must be here to ask when I had last seen Trudy. “Well, let them in you blithering fool.” The butler bowed slightly and quickly shuffled out of the room.

The shorter of the two policemen introduced them, “Mrs. Finkle, I’m Officer Offaly and this is my partner, Officer Cummins. We’re here to ask you about Trudy Gallagher, she is your maid isn’t she?”

“Yes, she was my maid”, Tomasina said in her most condescending tone. She was rather annoyed that these two men walked in to her house and were more concerned about her maid than her.

“Why do you say was your maid?” Officer Cummins asked.

“She hasn’t graced us with her presence for nearly a week now. I was actually looking in the directory for a new housekeeper when you fine gentleman had arrived.”

“Well, Mrs. Finkle, Miss Gallagher hasn’t been her because she was dead. There was an incident reported this afternoon by a neighbor, and Miss Gallagher was found dead at the bottom of the basement steps. Do you happen to know anything about her death?”

“No, no of course not”, Tomasina was becoming more and more annoyed with these two officers; did they believe that she had something to do with Trudy’s death?

“Well, Mrs. Finkle,” the taller of the two started, “we have a witness who says they saw you exiting the Gallagher home shortly after they had heard a scream.”

“I cannot believe this! How dare you accuse me of such a thing? Get out of my house immediately!” Tomasina railed at the two officers, genuinely shocked that they even could consider someone of her high standing could stoop low enough to murder a maid, “My lawyers will be in touch with you.”

“Mrs. Finkle, your lawyer has already been notified and will be meeting you at the court house: We have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Trudy Gallagher.”

“What? This is preposterous!” The larger of the two officers stepped toward Tomasina, handcuffs at the ready. “I refuse to be led out of my home as if I were a common criminal!” The officer took a step back and motioned for her to walk before him. Tomasina Finkle, lady of the house, stepped gingerly past him and then, recollecting who she was, stormed past the officer and walked out of the house, and for good measure, slammed the door behind her. The two officers looked at each other and shrugged.

The ride to the courthouse was the longest of Tomasina’s life. She was used to being chauffeured, but never in a police car, with its plastic seats and untinted glass. Once they arrived, the shorter of the officers walked to Tomasina’s door and opened it for her. In a moment of a mental lapse, Tomasina held out her hand waiting for the officer to help her from the car, remembering herself, Tomasina crept out of the car, checking to see if there were people about and stormed in to the courthouse.

“This is an outrage” She clamored once in to the building, Tomasina marched straight for her lawyer, “and it is ridiculous! Don’t they know who I am? They can’t do this to me!”
“Actually, Mrs. Finkle, they can, there is enough supporting evidence that you are a viable suspect in the murder of Trudy Gallagher.”
Tomasina Finkle, for the first time in her life, stood with her mouth open and no words spewing out. Slowly her mouth began to move again, in pantomime of speaking, but nothing could be heard. She had never thought, in a thousand years, that she of all people would be considered a “viable suspect” in the murder of her maid.
“Mrs. Finkle, I’ve posted bail for you, but there will be a hearing at the end of the week. The police have a few questions for you, before you can go back home.” Tomasina just starred in shock, sitting through her interrogation, answering all the questions put to her. She knew what she was saying was the truth, but she could see that no one believed a word she was saying. At the end of a torrent of questions Tomasina was allowed to go home, where she stayed until the hearing for the murder of her maid, Trudy Gallagher.

Friday morning came and much to Tomasina’s dismay the past few days of her life were not a dream. The courtroom filled with all those who had known the Finkles, and their despicable reputation of seeing all others as base and insignificant. Judge Valdren entered and took his seat, quite surprised that this hearing entailed Mrs. Tomasina Finkle. “What on earth could this woman have done?” The Judge thought to himself.

Tomasina was once again questioned, her reputation dragged through the mud, in front of everyone, seemingly solely for their entertainment. Witnesses were called forth and questions answered. As the time wore on it became increasingly obvious that Mrs. Tomasina Finkle could not be troubled with the miniscule lives of her servants, let alone interested enough to have a hand in their murder.

Mrs. Finkle’s repute for being less than concerned with her servants and their welfare, resulted in her being removed from the list of suspects. However, there were no other people that could have been the murderer of Trudy Gallagher. Mrs. Finkle had no motives at all to murder her maid; she could never have been bothered with it. Tomasina was free to go with nothing more than a muddied reputation.

In the very last row of the courtroom sits an unassuming man, with nothing memorable about him; just a glint, a darkening of his eyes as the “not guilty” Tomasina Finkle marched victoriously toward the door. No one would ever expect her to recognize her own butler.