Another Dead Republican
Edgar.”
     
    “If you don’t mind my asking, was there one particular incident that ended the friendship?”
     
    “We were best friends. ‘Were’ is the operative word. The major break came when I went to med school at John Hopkins. There wasn’t a fight or anything. Calls didn’t get made.” He sighed. “Friendships end, but we hung out together all through grade school. I was even his roommate in college freshman year for a while.” He glanced around the yard. A man and a woman I didn’t know were knocking at the front door. Another car was pulling up. No one was remotely close to being in hearing distance.
     
    I thought this was strange - as if we were members of the underground in 1942 Paris meeting in Pierre’s at the third pillar from the left, a cigarette dangling from one side of our mouths, speaking in harsh whispers, a waitress with a stiletto concealed in her bra. What did these people think was going to happen if they spoke the truth out loud? Then again, Edgar had been murdered so who knew what dangers lurked in these suburban Republican hearts?
     
    “Did Veronica know you and he were once buddies?”
     
    “I like Veronica. She is a saint to be married to him. We never discussed her marriage. She came to me for her once-a-year checkups. I was her doctor for the babies. As far as I could tell she was happy with him. Who was I to dump on her marriage?”
     
    “Did he get along with his family?”
     
    “Depended on the day, week, month, year. Sometimes he’d be angry with them. Sometimes he’d be running to them for money or protection. He did it when we were kids. My parents told me he did it as an adult.”
     
    “What did he get angry about?”
     
    “You know he was the youngest?”
     
    “Yeah.”
     
    “Everybody thought he was a yutz and a fuckup.”
     
    “Was he?”
     
    “Pretty much, but who likes it when your family tells you that?”
     
    “His friends didn’t?”
     
    “If he had friends, they were friends with his money, not with him. Or friends who wanted to be close to his family and their money. Governor Mallon is an excellent example of that.”
     
    “How so?” I asked.
     
    He leaned back in the uncomfortable white wrought-iron bench.
     
    “They dated in college. She was a grasping pseudo-intellectual back then. Hasn’t changed much. She broke up with him when she found somebody with more connections and more money.”
     
    “She didn’t mind that he was younger?”
     
    “Does money have an age restriction?”
     
    I smiled. “What turned people against him? Or what was the yutz factor all about?”
     
    “The best example I can think of is Edgar’s deals.”
     
    “Deals?”
     
    “He always had a deal he was working. Always. He constantly tried to get people to invest in deals. That’s why he went into that investment banking. He was going to make deals. Huge, big, mega-buck, super profitable deals.” He sighed. “Like everything Edgar touched it turned to shit. He wanted me to invest a hundred thousand in a land deal in Texas. He justified people losing their money by saying it was okay that they lost their money because he lost twice as much as they did. He was awful at business, led his clients into making stupid investments, or he tried to get his friends to buy into stupid investments. He was a menace. That’s why he lost his job at that investment company. He was costing them clients and money.”
     
    “It’s kind of sad.”
     
    He nodded. “He always had his mom and dad to run to when he was stuck. And he did. The sadder parts were the little things.”
     
    “Like what?”
     
    “He didn’t have a lot of basic social skills.”
     
    “That I noticed.”
     
    “But he always had his parents to fall back on then and now as an adult. They gave him a job in the anti-recall campaign.”
     
    “What was he doing for them?”
     
    “I don’t know specifically what he did. Whatever it was he probably screwed it up.” He shook

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