by Lee Strauss
A slender maid answered the door wearing a black dress and a typical white cap and apron.
“Yes?” she asked cautiously.
“My name is Dr. Haley Higgins. I’m the assistant to the chief medical examiner. My condolences on the death of Mr. Stefano Marchesi.”
The maid blanched and stepped outside into the brisk air, closing the door until it was only opened a crack.
With a strong Italian accent, she said, “Ve don’t speak about Mr. Stefano here, Dr. Higgins. It vill be best if you vent avay immediately.”
“Perhaps there is a member of the family who wouldn’t mind talking with me?”
As if on cue, the door flew open, and a strong male form, probably in his mid-thirties, filled the space.
“Maria?” The man spoke in perfect English. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marchesi,” the maid said. “We’ve got company.”
The man’s gaze washed over Haley, and his expression changed in a manner she had become accustomed to when assessed by the opposite sex. Curious interest, to disappointment, to dismissal. Haley lifted her square chin defiantly. She knew she wasn’t the most beautiful of women, nor the most fashionable, but she was neatly put together in her summer dress suit and straw hat.
“I’m Dr. Haley Higgins, assistant to the medical examiner. Could you spare a few moments to chat?”
Mr. Marchesi might have been part of a Mob family, but he did prove to have manners. “Do come in, Doctor, before you catch a chill.”
Inside, the man instructed the maid to bring coffee, and then he led Haley to a sitting room that might’ve taken her breath away if she hadn’t had opportunity in the past to associate with the upper classes. Many valuable paintings hung on the richly papered walls. Haley recognized some of them as Van Gogh and Virgilio Tojetti. Surely they weren’t originals, but even limited prints would cost a pretty penny. The furnishings were luxurious with the latest in interior design fashions, primarily of jade velour and ornate wooden trim. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling.
“I’m afraid I failed to introduce myself.” Mr. Marchesi extended his right arm. “I’m Edoardo Marchesi.”
With her gloves remaining on, Haley accepted the man’s handshake. “Thank you for seeing me.” She took the proffered seat.
“I’m assuming you’re here because you have questions about my brother’s death.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“And you’re working with the police?”
Haley ducked her chin in a nod as if not saying the word minimized the lie.
“I performed your brother’s autopsy.”
“Is that so? Forgive me for saying, but your profession doesn’t appear very ladylike.”
“Science has no gender, Mr. Marchesi.”
His dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Very well. What are your questions?”
Before Haley could ask the first one, the maid, Maria, entered with a tray holding a French press—the glass carafe had loose grounds pressed to the bottom with a mesh plunger—, and two tiny porcelain cups. There was no cream on offer, only sugar. Haley didn’t mind. She appreciated a strong cup of coffee, and honestly, she could use a little boost.
After a sip, she said, “I understand that your brother was estranged from the family.”
Edoardo snorted. “You do cut to the chase, don’t you, Dr. Higgins.”
“I believe it’s worthwhile to get the obvious out of the way.”
Edoardo’s full lips broke into a smile. “You’re very intriguing, Doctor. Not at all what I expected you to be when I invited you in.”
Haley didn’t bite. Perhaps he thought, based on her looks and dress, that she’d be dull. A stereotypic schoolmarm. She asked again, “Why were you and your brother estranged?”
Edoardo sipped his coffee and then stared at her over the rim. “Not that it’s any of your business, and I’m sure the police already know, but Stefano broke rule numero uno—don’t play in your brother’s sandbox.” He smirked. “In other words, he slept with my wife.”
“Oh.” Haley wasn’t shocked by much, but Mr. Marchesi’s candidness caught her off guard.
Edoardo placed his coffee on the end table and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “You’re not working with the police, are you, Dr. Higgins? So tell me, why are you really here?”
“I’m here out of curiosity.”
Edoardo leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving hers, and smiled crookedly. “Curiosity killed the cat, Doctor. If I were you, I’d attend to my own business.”
It was a warning. Haley, dismayed, felt her cheeks heat up.
Standing, she said, “I’m sure you’re right. Thank you once again for your time. I can find my way out.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Samantha pushed her daughter on a swing in a nearby park. Not so much a park as an empty lot, with a tree, and a tire hanging by a thick rope. Kids often fought over the right to ride it, but today, Samantha and Talia were fortunate enough to be alone, probably because all the other kids were in their homes eating supper. She and Talia had eaten earlier, and Samantha was keen to get some time alone with her daughter, out of the way of Bina’s intrusive eyes. Besides, something troubled Samantha.
“Talia,” she began, letting the tire swing slowly. “Are you really getting teased at school?”
Talia let the toes of her shoes drag through a dusty hole that had formed underneath by all the other hundreds of shoes that had done the same thing.
She answered softly, “Sometimes.”
“What do the kids say?”
“I dunno.”
Samantha squatted until she was eye-level with her daughter. “Don’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing, nothing you can’t tell me. I’m always here for you.”
Talia’s lips began to tremble. “They’re just so mean, Mommy. They call me names because I’m Jewish, even though I tell them I’m only half Jewish. The boys push me around.”
The injustice inflicted on her child burned in Samantha’s chest. “They’re just ignorant and bigoted.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means they’re not worth a second thought or another tear. The next time they say something unkind, you say, racism is for simpletons.
“Racism is for simpletons,” Talia repeated. “I don’t know what that means either.”
“Neither will they, but it’ll shut them up.”
At least, Samantha hoped it would. “Come, let’s go see what Bina has baked today.”
Talia wiped her nose with the back of her bare arm, and then took Samantha’s hand.
Samantha wondered if Bina was right. Maybe a Jewish school would be best for Talia. It wouldn’t prevent the rest of the city, or the rest of the world for that matter, from striking their punches, but at least she wouldn’t get bullied there. At least not for being Jewish.
“Mommy?”
“Honeybun?”
“Why don’t I have a daddy? Other kids have a daddy. Why don’t I?”
Samantha sighed. It seemed that Talia was intent on crushing her mama’s heart, pouring out all her problems in one go. Talia hadn’t even been born yet when Seth left. Samantha had been naïve when she thought she could forget the grifter and move on. Even in his absence, her no-good husband proved to be a pain in the neck.
“You do have a daddy,” Samantha said. “He’s just not here, with us.”
Talia tilted her head back to look up and almost lost her straw hat.
Samantha caught it before it fell into the dirt.
With her small voice, Talia asked, “Where is he, then?”
“I don’t know, honey. He’s lost.”
“Then we need to go find him.”
Samantha stared down at Talia’s large, hopeful eyes. She shook her head. “Oh, honey. I’m afraid that some people just can’t be found.”
10
Whenever Haley had a day off, at least in the summer month
s, she drove to the Country Gulf Club in Brookline. Today was no different, and with her clubs in the back seat of the DeSota, and the windows wide open, Haley motored southeast. The warm summer wind blew her curls loose from their pins, but she didn’t mind. There was something soothing about letting convention go once in a while. A pair of round-frame sunglasses propped on her nose reduced the glare of the rising sun.
She eventually hit Clyde Street and parked in the lot in front of the clubhouse, a large, impressive three-story building that had a wall of windows and gabled wings on either end.
Haley wrestled her curls back into submission, donned her wide-brimmed hat, and hoisted her clubs from the back seat.
Inside the brightly painted lobby, Haley removed her sunglasses and registered to play. Members milled about and Haley was shocked to catch the eye of Mr. Edoardo Marchesi. The fact that he would be a member wasn’t too surprising—since 1929, membership had fallen and only those with comfortable financial resources could continue to play. The Marchesi family certainly qualified. Only, Haley had never seen Edoardo Marchesi here before, or perhaps, she’d never registered his presence before, but somehow she doubted she’d miss noticing such a suave and charismatic man.
More shockingly, he approached her.
“Dr. Higgins,” he said with a tip of his hat. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Haley couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or facetious. Considering he’d practically thrown her out of his house the one and only time they’d met, she leaned toward the latter.
She responded, “Indeed.”
“Are you playing alone?”
“I am.” Haley boldly looked the handsome man in the eyes. “I’m quite competitive with myself. I like to see if I can beat my last performance.”
“I admire your individuality.”
Again, Haley couldn’t tell if the man was genuine in his praise, or concealing mockery.
“Thank you,” Haley replied, simply. “Please excuse me. I like to complete the course before noon.”
“Of course. Might I suggest we play together? I can be quite competitive as well, and I’m sure you’d enjoy the challenge.”
Stunned by the proposal, Haley tightened her jaw before it could drop open.
“Surely, you came with companions who’d expect you to play with them?”
Edoardo Marchesi glanced at a group of men hovering to one side, and then dipped his chin. It was some kind of message, because the men immediately retreated. He turned back to Haley. “In fact, I’m alone. You won’t refuse me a game, will you?”
Haley fumed. She couldn’t very well be rude to the man, especially since other members had overheard this part of their conversation and were casting furtive glances their way.
Without smiling, Haley said, “I accept your challenge. But I only have time for nine holes.” She put her sunglasses on and walked purposefully toward the exit.
Edoardo kept pace with her and opened the door in a gentlemanly gesture. Once outside, he motioned for a couple of caddies to assist, and within moments, Haley was relieved of her clubs.
They headed to the first hole in silence. Normally, the hike to the first hole brought Haley a sense of stress release, but this time her shoulders remained tight. Her mind worked quickly: why had Edoardo Marchesi latched on to her? Did he think she’d discovered evidence against him regarding the murder of his brother? Was he about to ply her with probing questions?
Was she in danger?
A man of Edoardo’s stature and strength could easily overpower her. A person could meander about the course for a length of time without seeing another golfer.
She looked appreciatively at the two caddies, grateful for their company.
When they reached the hole, Edoardo said, “Ladies first.”
Haley set a ball on the tee and requested a club. The lush green of the course spread out before her, with sandpits on either side of the hole. Groves of oak trees dotted the edges, their leaves blowing gently in the breeze.
Haley took her position, legs spread slightly, shoulders square, and swung. The ball lifted into the air, arched and landed a few feet from the hole.
Edoardo grinned. “Impressive, Dr. Higgins.”
Haley accepted the accolade, and stepped back for Edoardo.
He repeated Haley’s performance with his ball landing just shy of the hole. Haley blinked. That was darned near a hole-in-one!
“I’m the one who’s impressed,” she said.
They walked across the greens, caddies a discreet distance behind them, without a word. Haley considered her situation. She had the next shot, but if she missed, Edoardo was certain to get his.
She couldn’t miss.
And she didn’t! She barely held in a smirk.
“You’re a worthy competitor,” Edoardo said. He made his shot easily.
As they walked to the next hole, Haley said, “So why are you really playing golf with me?” She knew it wasn’t due to physical attraction. He’d made that clear at their first encounter.
“I simply want to play with someone who could possibly beat me.”
“And I’m that person? How would you know?”
“I asked at the desk.”
Haley shot him a look. Was he telling the truth?
Another option made her blood grow cool. Had he followed her here?
Their competitive spirits came to the forefront on the next hole. Haley got it in two, Edoardo in three. Edoardo whistled in admiration. Haley bit her lip to keep from grinning. Good sportsmanship demanded it.
“Your perception of my motives was correct,” Edoardo admitted, as they strolled past a sandpit and toward the next hole. “I did want to talk to you about something other than your golf game.”
“Stefano?”
“Yes.”
She’d been right. Edoardo thought she knew something and wanted to know what. “Okay,” she said cautiously.
“I want to hire you to investigate his murder.”
“What?” That was the last thing Haley had expected.
“I don’t trust the cops, especially that half-wit, Cluney.”
“I thought you had disowned your brother?”
“Stefano brought shame to my family, but he was still my brother. Whoever killed him should be hanged.”
Haley inclined her head. “How do I know it wasn’t you?”
“Why would I hire you if I was guilty?”
“Precisely to throw me off the scent.”
“Ha. I knew you were clever. Very well, include me in your investigation, but I can assure you it’ll be a waste of your time. And my money, I might add.”
“I don’t understand why you’re requesting this of me. You were quite adamant when I came to your house, that I stay out of your business.”
“I had time to reconsider. And, I’ll admit, I did a bit of research on you. You may not know this, but your reputation for assisting the police in closing difficult cases precedes you.
Haley said nothing as they strolled to the next hole. She was both flattered and disturbed by Edoardo Marchesi’s revelation. Pleased that she was commended, distressed that a Mafia man had been looking into her business and private life.
They completed the next hole before she responded.
“I’m not a private detective, Mr. Marchesi. Despite the fact that I often work with the police department, there must be someone you know who’s more qualified than I.”
“As you must be aware, I’m rather well known in Boston. I don’t want everyone to know my business. You’re a doctor, therefore you know what confidentiality entails. And you’re just as intelligent as any of those gumshoes.”
“I need time to think about it,” Haley said.
Edoardo grinned. “You have five more holes.”
They played the rest of the game as if golf was the only thing on their minds. Was she really going to consider working for the Mafia? No. Her answer must be no.
They ended nine holes with a matching score.
“You continue to surprise me, Dr. Higgins. I’ve never played with a lady who could keep up before.”
“Thank you,” Haley said. This time she couldn’t keep the smile from tickling her lips.
“And do I have an answer?” Edoardo asked.
“I don’t—”
He cut her off before she could finish.
“You’re not about to back down from a challenge, are you, Dr. Higgins?”
Haley swallowed. “I’m not afraid of the challenge, I’m just—”
“Do you think you’ll fail?”
“I’m not saying that!”
“You will work for me, then?”
Before she could check herself, the words left her mouth. “I will.”
11
Oh dear. Haley nibbled her lips as she drove back to the north end. What had she just agreed to? Joining forces with a Mafia family? Her competitive nature had really gotten her into trouble this time!
The only thing she could do now was to solve the case, give credit to the police department, and stay far away from Edoardo Marchesi.
And under no circumstances could she allow him to compensate her.
Besides, she wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t pulled the trigger himself. His ego was large enough that he’d think himself invincible. He was probably playing her like a fiddle for his own amusement.
The thought infuriated her and she blew loudly through her lips at the stray curl that had fallen into her eyes.
She pulled abruptly into a spot in front of her apartment building, hoisted the leather bag of clubs onto her back, and, despite the extra weight, practically sprinted up the stairs, fueled as she was by her eagerness to get to work on this case.
Molly greeted her at the door. “Hello, Dr. Higgins. How was golf this morning?”
Haley set her clubs down in the corner behind the door and removed her hat.
“I fear I’ve done something quite foolish, Molly.”
“I highly doubt that,” Molly said kindly. “You don’t have a foolish bone in your body.”