Another Senseless Killing (23) “I did?” “Margo.” “Margo.” He nodded. “I guess I did.” “Was it intentional?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. “She did have a strong motive. I mean --- I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be disinherited. And two mil buys a lot of shit.” Nick squinted and looked around him. “This damn weather is tearing me apart. I think --- “ “But I can’t see her as the type that would kill her own sister.” “Manny, you know as well as I do that there are no types.” “And besides, she was in Dallas when --- “ I caught myself. She’d gotten back in town on Sunday at around five o’clock. If the dates were correct, Margo had no alibi. There was an unusually long and awkward silence. It was time. “Nick, tell me what’s bugging you for Christ’s sake? I mean other than your suspects all seem to be vanishing.” I tried to make light of it. It didn’t help. “Since when don’t you finish a sandwich?” I waited for a response. I got none. I continued to speak to the top of his head. “I sense something here. I have ever since you had dinner at Bea’s two weeks ago. Now what gives?” The waiter put the check on the table scaring the hell out of me. That’s how intense I was. “Manny, everyone I’ve met since I became involved in this fucking case is innocent except --- “ There was a pause that seemed to go on for eons. “Except --- who?” Nick just stared at me. New lines appeared on his weatherbeaten face. The bags under his eyes were sprouting their own bags. “Ask me tomorrow.” He said wearily. “Tomorrow?” “I’ll have all the reports by then and I’ll know for sure.” “Know what?” Nick took a deep breath. “I just hope to hell I’m wrong!” “Wrong about what? What the hell are you talking about?” There was another lengthy pause before Nick responded. “Don’t ask me any more questions, okay?” “No. It’s not okay!” An elderly couple rode by on a bicycle built for two. They wore wool hats, wool scarves and heavy looking leather jackets. I hadn’t seen a bicycle built for two in years. It distracted me momentarily. “Do you have a suspect you’re not telling me about?” I was frightened. Nick fumbled for a cigar. His hand was shaking. “I don’t get it, Nick. We’ve been friends for all these years. Since when haven’t we been able to talk?” I waited. There was no response. My fear mounted. “I thought we were working on this case together.” Nick turned to me, then stared for a long moment. His voice was barely audible. “This is different, Manny.” Once again Nick began to move the saltshaker back and forth. “What about Curt Warner? What about Martha Bowden?” I grabbed the saltshaker and threw it as far as I could. It landed across the street and rolled into the gutter. “Talk to me, God damnit! Did you learn something I don’t know about?” I had to find out. “Why are you holding out on me?” “Manny --- please!” A dirty looking man dressed in rags picked up the saltshaker, studied it then threw it back in the gutter. “Manny.” Nick stood up. His gaze was vacant. His bright eyes suddenly dull. “It’s much more involved.” I stood to face him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Nick clumsily picked up the check. “My treat.” He turned and left with no goodbye. I could feel my eyes drill into the back of his head until he turned the corner and was out of sight. Nick disappeared but his words remained. “I’ll have all the reports tomorrow. Then I’ll know for sure. I just hope to hell I’m wrong!” * XXXV “This tea needs sugar.” I took a sip. “Sugar is fattening.” “You sound like my sister.” “Manny.” Margo put down the tray with the iced tea on top of the coffee table. “What exactly did your friend, Nick, say?” I put my cup down and we locked eyes. “He said he would know for sure tomorrow, and --- “ “And --- what?” “He said he hoped he was wrong.” Our eyes remained locked. “Wrong?” Her stare was probing. “But actually, it was more what he didn’t say.” Our eyes unlocked as I took the pitcher and filled both our glasses. “He was evasive and aloof --- and argumentative. Those are traits you just don’t associate with Nick Foley.” Margo took a sip. “So maybe he’s changed.” “Nah! I’ve known him too long. Nick is direct. You always know where you stand with him.” I started to take a sip and stopped with the glass in mid air. “He said I shouldn’t ask him about certain things.” “ --- then I’ll know for sure. I just hope to hell I’m wrong!” “Sounds familiar.” Margo took a slow sip. Her big brown eyes were boring a hole in my forehead. She didn’t need any makeup or Giorgio to turn me on. She came over to the couch and sat next to me. “Does he think I did it?” She looked angry, frightened and confused all at the same time. “I don’t know.” Her skin reminded me of Lake Buck at its very calmest. “I told you he was evasive.” But I did know! “Manny.” She looked at me. I met her gaze instantly. Her brown eyes got browner as she softened her tone. “What do you think?” I just hope to hell I’m wrong! “It doesn’t matter what I think.” I sat closer to her. Our faces were inches apart. “Foley will have the last bet, not me.” “Manny,” I could feel her warm breath on my lips. “I want to know what you think.” I ran my hand softly across her eyebrows, moving a small strand of hair. “Come on, Margo. You know how I feel about you.” Then I kissed her gently on the lips. They were warm and moist. After a long pause, she smiled bashfully. “And just how do you feel about me?” I wasn’t prepared for that. I kissed her again --- harder. She didn’t resist. “Manny.” It was almost a whisper. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I want to take you in my arms and devour you.” I spoke with no hesitation. “I felt it the first time I saw you.” It seemed like a hundred years ago. She just looked at me as I reached for her breast. Again there was no resistance. I undid her blouse and we kissed long and hard. I hoped she wasn’t playing games with me. This was no time to ask We undid each other’s clothes quickly and made love slowly. It was terrific! The two of us lying naked on the floor of her apartment was the last thing I expected when I came over this evening. But it happened and I wasn’t one bit sorry. “Manny.” Margo sat up. Our mouths were almost touching. “Did we just make a mistake?” I shook my head. “No.” I kissed her nipple. “Is that what you think?” “No. I --- I don’t know.” She got dressed. “I am totally confused.” “Don’t be.” I put on my pants. “We both have to know it’s all going to work out for the best.” “ --- Then I’ll know for sure. I just hope to hell I’m wrong!” We lay down on our backs and stared at the mottled ceiling. Neither of us spoke for several minutes. “What if I am a cold blooded killer?” She whispered. Would you still want me?” “Margo. Don’t joke about it, okay?” “Sorry.” She thought a moment. “What if Nick thinks I am?” We both sat up and were suddenly eye to eye. “Let’s hope he doesn’t.” Margo suddenly started to cry. I held her tightly. She was trembling all over. The feel of her body next to mine sent shivers through me. I held her moist face in my hands and kissed it all over. “Margo, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She returned my kisses, gently at first, then slowly increasing with passion. We undressed and made love again. It was even better than the first time. “When this ordeal is over,” I stroked her face as I spoke. “let’s go away someplace --- any place. Just the two of us.” She smiled and nodded. We both lay down on our backs again, her head nestled in my arm. I tried to savor the moment, but Foley’s words bellowed through my head. “ --- I just hope to hell I’m wrong!” * XXXVI The library at the forty year old fifth precinct was a recent addition, built only ten years ago. The eight-hundred square foot room was floor to ceiling books covering three walls. The fourth wall was reserved for vending machines for sandwiches, candy bars, soft drinks and coffee. Next to the machine was a microwave and small refrigerator. Several small tables and chairs were scattered all around haphazardly. The books were on law, jurisprudence, forensics, firearms and any other topic concerning law enforcement. The only window was behind the vending machine, and its shade was drawn. The carpeting was a dull indoor-outdoor charcoal gray. Near the front of the library was a large oval table at which Nick Foley was seated and reading a copy of ‘Body Trauma.’ He was the only one in the room and his back was to me. It was eight o’clock and very quiet. “Hello, Nick.” My heart pounded. “I got your message. It sounded urgent.” He didn’t answer at first. Then he slowly closed the book and turned toward me. “Hello, Manny.” He gestured to an empty chair across from him. “Sit down. Please.” He was wearing his usual three-piece suit. His jacket was open and his tie was undone. The vest pocket, as usual, was stuffed with cigars. He took one out and moved it toward his mouth, then changed his mind and put it back in his vest pocket. His manner conveyed a strange sort of politeness which was totally out of character for him. Something was terribly wrong. “Are you going to level with me or am I supposed to guess what the fuck is happening here?” The room was deathly still. The only sound I heard was my own heartbeat. I tried to force a smile, but couldn’t. Our eyes finally met. His were cold and distant. I felt he was staring through me, not at me. “Why so formal?” I asked lightly. He took off his tie and hung it over the chair. His eyes never left mine. “Nick, if this is about Margo, I think --- “ “It’s not about Margo.” Foley reached under the table and came up with a red box. Then he put the box in front of me and folded his arms. “Manny, what I have to say isn’t pleasant.” We both stared at the box like we were in a trance. “You know who did it, right?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s great. You said yesterday at Juniors that you --- “ “Open the box and remove the contents.” Nick said grimly. I hesitated a moment, then opened it up and took out a thirty-eight caliber pistol. “This is Herb Rowland’s --- right?” Nick looked at me, then slowly shook his head. “I don’t get it.” But I did. “Manny.” Nick took a deep breath and leaned into me. His voice was almost a whisper. “What the hell were you thinking?” A glass inside me suddenly exploded and shot slivers through my entire body. Then I went numb. I knew exactly where he was heading “That piece doesn’t belong to Rowland, or Carlson or --- “ There was a long pause. We never lost eye contact. “That murder weapon belongs to you!” It was like my body was in the chair but I was floating somewhere out in space --- watching. “I know your fingerprints aren’t on it and it’s not registered to you. But you planted it in Rowland’s apartment. Herb Rowland was going to be your scapegoat.” I tried to speak, but couldn’t. It felt like there was a dish rag stuck in my throat. Sweat began to drip from every inch of my body. Foley continued anxiously. “I’m not a gambling man, but I would be willing to bet my next months salary that you have no valid alibis for the nights of the three murders in question.” I was getting dizzy. I gripped the sides of the chair steady myself. Nick took out another cigar. His hands were shaking. He threw the fresh cigar and watched it bust open as it hit the bookcase. “Goddamnit, Manny! Our families have been close forever!” He was close to tears. I had to turn away. “You sold me my first annuity. I lived through two of your screwed up marriages and messy divorces.” Then he leaned in close to me again. Now I was the one avoiding eye contact. He spoke softly. “We’ve been like brothers for twenty years. You’re Godfather to my second oldest son.” He paused to catch his breath and lick his lips. I continued to look away. “I feel like shit, Manny!” Nick sat back, turned his head, took out a clean handkerchief and blew his nose. There was another long pause. Two young cops came in and went directly to the vending machines. Nick and I watched absently as they each got a coke. “Hello.” One of them said. The other one just waved. They both had large smiles. I recognized the first one as the one in the interrogation room with Rowland. We both nodded and they quickly left. Foley put away his handkerchief, then took out another cigar from his vest pocket and began twisting it with his chubby fingers. “Early this morning, two ballistic reports came in.” He licked his lips again. “One was a large blowup of a snapshot I took from your family room the night I had dinner at your house.” “Some guest.” I said it hoping the humor could serve as rope for a drowning PI. It didn’t. Nick ignored the comment. “It took a long time to decipher the photo, but when we did --- “ He took the eight by ten glossy from a small round table behind him and laid it on the edge of the oval table for me to see. “--- you can see, in the background, a light fixture. The same fixture that was in Kate Blair’s bedroom.” Foley put his finger in the center of the photo. It wasn’t necessary. “That’s you, of course, standing in front of it.” I was soaked with sweat and my insides were going in all directions. “The tire marks taken at the old cemetery were another challenge.” Nick took out his handkerchief and wiped his neck and face. “The boys at the crime lab admit it’s only an educated guess, but they think the tracks were made about --- “ He put away his handkerchief and took out a small pink piece of paper. “ --- three weeks ago and --- “ He folded the paper. “ --- they were from a --- 265.75.16 size tire.” He put the paper away and again we were eye to eye. “We both know those are oversized tires.” “John Carver drives a Blazer.” I was shocked at my sudden composure. “A Blazer uses oversized tires.” Nick shook his head. “Carver didn’t kill anyone!” He took another breath. “On the other hand --- you drive a Silverado with --- “ He took out a large white paper from his inside jacket pocket. Nick was prepared. “ --- Dunlop 265.75.16 tires.” Foley tossed the receipt to me. I recognized my signature at once. “Lots of people drive Silverados --- with Dunlop tires.” I said defensively. “Not that many.” Nick pointed his finger at me. “Those tire marks were made by you!” Two more policemen came into the library. The were talking softly as they walked to the bookcase. One of them took a book off the shelf. The other went to the vending machine and got a Milky Way candy bar. Then they stood together in front of the bookcase and resumed their quiet conversation for several minutes. I was dying! They nodded to us and finally left. “I will admit that for a long time I thought it was Margo. She had motive and opportunity.” I didn’t argue this time. It was too late. “I was wrong.” He sighed deeply and sat back uncomfortably . “Okay, Manny. This is the scenario as I see it.” I needed a cigarette and a change of clothes. My heart continued to race. “You were in love with Kate Blair.” Foley got up, put both hands in his pockets and began to pace slowly around the table. “You met her several years ago at a writer’s conference.” He stopped and we faced each other. “Margo told me that in passing.” He paused another moment, then resumed his pacing. “Anyway, that was the start. You saw each other regularly for quite some time.” Nick stopped and we faced each other again. He had tears in his eyes. “Then you found out what she was.” He resumed his pacing. “So you confronted her. You wanted a monogamous relationship, which of course was impossible. You couldn’t stand to see her make it with pricks like Carver and Rowland.” The dizziness had gone. But the pounding in my chest remained. “Maybe she scoffed --- or even laughed at you.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face again. “She obviously defied you with a ‘take it or leave it’ attitude. But it really doesn’t matter what provoked you.” I couldn’t sit still much longer. I also couldn’t listen much longer. “So you took your thirty-eight --- “ Foley was behind me now. “ --- the one in the red box, and bashed her head in! I know you’re capable. I saw your true colors when we interrogated Rowland and Carver.” He sat back down. I had to turn away again. “You have a terrible temper and a real fucking mean streak. It’s a dark side of you I’ve never seen before.” I took the pack of cigarettes out of my shirt pocket. I could have used a drink right now. “Then you shot her! Don’t ask me why. I doubt if even you know. It was either your temper got the best of you or you wanted to make certain she was dead.” He softened his tone. “Manny, there was no way you were going to share her --- with anyone!” There was a long silence. I spoke up. “You’re grasping, ole buddy.” I lit up a cigarette, totally ignoring the large NO SMOKING sign in front of me. Nick was much too lost in thought to object. “Remember Kate’s address book?” He answered for me. “Of course you do. Do you also remember that there was a page missing?” He walked up to his desk. We were facing each other again. “The page was from the GHI section. I can’t prove it, but I bet your name is on it.” “Then Curt Warner finds out about you and Kate --- or maybe he saw you kill her. Or maybe Warner’s association made it a drug related homicide. It doesn’t matter what the reason was. The bottom line is you unloaded your thirty-eight into him.” Nick threw his arms in the air. “Here again --- unfortunately --- it is purely conjectural.” Two young cops entered. I quickly extinguished my cigarette without having taken that first puff. The two went to the vending machine. One got a Coke and the other got a coffee. They nodded to us and left. “And poor Martha Bowden.” Nick sat down on the edge of his desk. “Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She saw you at Kate Blair’s. She practically told you she saw you.” Nick shrugged. “So what’s another murder, huh? You got to her house just before we met there. You blew her away and then pretended to be shocked when we found the body.” He emitted a nervous laugh. “I got to admit, you covered your tracks pretty well. And speaking of tracks, the shoe print in her house was a size nine wing tip. You wear a size nine wing tip." "So do a lot of men." Nick nodded slowly. "And now I'll tell you the clincher." He leaned in toward me. "It took a lefty to shoot Kate, then smash her head in." He took out another cigar, looked at it and again put it back in his vest pocket. "The blood stains on the murder weapon, although tiny and fragmented, looked like Mount Rushmore under the microscope. And they were on the right side of the pistol." "Really." I was trapped. "It was the right side of Kate's head that was bashed in. A right handed person would have had to hold the piece upside down to produce the same result --- which is highly unlikely." Foley paused and scratched his the back of his neck. "And if a right handed person were to have shot Kate Blair, he would have had to stand almost at her side to do so. An awkward position at best." "Maybe I'm ambidextrous." Now I was the one grasping. "Nope! You even reminded of how you blew me off the racquetball court with that powerful left hand of yours." "There are a lot of lefties out there." I had to get the hell out of here. "True. But I haven't met one in months --- let alone since I started working on this case." A siren suddenly pierced the intensity of the surroundings. We both jumped. "That’s why Morales and I have had such a problem trying to figure the trajectory of the bullets. All along we're thinking --- right handed. But the bullets went through her chest at such an angle that only a lefty could have shot her. Face to face by a lefty fits perfectly." "So this was your big secret at Junior's?" I asked. Nick nodded. "Yes. I was fairly certain but I wanted to be proof positive." "You got it all figured out, don't you?" I was furious at myself for being so stupid! "And then you dumped her body at this Godforsaken cemetery that no one ever goes to. I assumed you put Kate's body in the large plastic bag from your new waterbed --- since the bag did come from Waterbeds Inc. Then you hauled it there in your Silverado." "Let's face it, Nick. The story is good --- fiction. Everything is pure conjecture. There are no prints and no witnesses. Your evidence is shaky and your case is weak." I knew this was tough on him. I had hoped it wouldn't have to end like this. It was the very last thing I wanted. But I couldn't help him. Too much was at stake. "And finally," Nick said in desperation. "Your hair and skin were under her fingernails. She probably grabbed at you and got some of your skin when you killed her. And there's no doubt it's yours. Ballistics proved it." "So I knew her. So I dated her. So I fucked her! So what?" I stood up and went behind my chair, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white with pain. I couldn't believe any of this was happening. I was so fucking careful. "The hair and skin under Kate's nails could have come from any one of the many times I banged her!" Nick nodded resignedly. "I know. It was just more circumstantial evidence."
Go to part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
Copyright © 1998 B J Bloch |