“I didn’t receive it,” Grabnick said with an air of indignation.
Manelli’s face broke into a broad grin now. ”Really, Mr. Grabnick? Because Holly and Ivy Donnelly tell me you accused them of sending you the CD.”
Grabnick grimaced, shaking his head. ”Look, Detective. I did receive a CD, but it wasn’t related to the Gomez case. I explained that to the Donnelly women. Whatever CD you got is obviously not the same as the one I got.”
Manelli smiled, now really enjoying himself. “May I see the CD you received, Mr. Grabnick?”
“No, you may not. That CD is confidential information related to a totally different case. You’d need a warrant to see it,” Grabnick said, regaining some composure now that he was on solid legal ground.
“Don’t you even want to know what the Zoning Hearing was about, Mr. Grabnick? Because it is related to your client’s case.” Manelli taunted.
“Well, I…uh…yes, of course. But I don’t know how a Zoning Hearing could be relevant?”
“It’s relevant. It’s very relevant because during that hearing Louis Brunetti threatens to murder Mrs. Hagel for causing his application for a zoning variance to be turned down.”
Grabnick licked his lips, scratched his neck, and again straightened his tie. ”Um… that’s…uh…that’s information that, I suppose, could be helpful.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that myself. Playing that CD in court could definitely demonstrate that someone other than your client had a motive to kill Mrs. Hagel and, at the very least, introduce the element of doubt in a juror’s mind, don’t’ ya think?”
“Yes.” Grabnick brushed some paper crumbs off his desk. “I suppose it could.”
“Maybe your copy got lost in the mail. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I have someone in my office make a copy and hand deliver it to you? How’s that sound?”
“That would be good,” Grabnick answered, sighing, staring at a coffee stain on his desk blotter.
Manelli got up to leave.
“Detective, will you be questioning Mr. Brunetti?” Grabnick asked, the bluster gone out of him.
“Count on it, Mr. Grabnick.” Manelli put his hand on the doorknob, stopped and turned back to face the lawyer. “One more question. You and I are the only ones who know the Donnellys are helping Leonelle Gomez. Any idea how Steven Hagel’s lawyer found that out?”
Grabnick blanched. “I have no idea.”
Manelli grinned. "No? I didn’t think so. You know the American justice system is lucky to have men like you who do the job of defending the defenseless. Let me leave you to do your job, Mr. Grabnick. Have a good day.”
As he descended the stairs, Manelli shook his head. Taunting Grabnick was a kick. Unfortunately, he knew it was unlikely their conversation would motivate Grabnick to do a good job defending Leonelle Gomez. He had to find the real killer. He got in his car and headed to Louie Brunetti’s house for a visit he was dreading.
35 SECOND BLOOM
Holly woke up and went to the kitchen, saw the answering machine on the counter and remembered Teresa’s message. She picked up the phone and searched the Call Log. Teresa’s was the last call, so she hit “Talk”. After seven rings, the phone went to voice mail.
“Hi, Teresa. It’s Holly. Sorry I missed your call. I was away for a few days and had a hectic morning. I’m back now, so you can call this number. If you can’t get back to me tonight, you can call me tomorrow. Bye.”
Ivy walked into the kitchen as Holly hung up. ”Didn’t get her?”
“No.”
“What do you think she wanted?” Ivy went to the refrigerator, got out the iced tea pitcher and poured herself a glass.
“I don’t’ know. Isn’t it ironic though? Up at Kate’s we decided only a family member could have had motive, means and opportunity. Since we got back, a Zoning Commission hearing recording that has Louie Brunetti threatening Mrs. Hagel surfaces, and now Teresa says she found something. It has to be related to the Hagels and their dealings with Novardo.”
“Maybe,” Ivy said taking a sip of the tea. “I passed the Hagel house walking Lucky before. The house next door still looks empty. I remember Manelli saying he didn’t believe in coincidences. The fact that the neighbors left town the morning the body was discovered may be nothing, but doesn’t that strike you as just a little too coincidental?”
“It does,” Holly replied, “But what’s their motive?”
“Just because we don’t know it, doesn’t mean they didn’t have one.”
“True. But now this is where the police have to investigate.”
“I’ll bet Denise Archer knows if they had a motive.”
“Listen to yourself. Didn’t I just hear you this morning tell Manelli that we, and I quote, ‘would not interfere with police business’?”
“Just kidding. But I’ll bet she does know.”
“Stop, before you get me in trouble. Let’s go outside and check the yard. I’m glad it rained while we were away. We won’t have to water, but I’m sure there’s plenty of weeding and deadheading to do.”
“Wow. Manelli really scared you, didn’t he?” asked Ivy.
“As much as I hate to admit he’s right about anything, I have to acknowledge that just the couple of conversations I had with people before we left set in motion a whole bunch of things I didn’t expect. More important, I don’t want Manelli hauling in a friend who gave me information confidentially. It could affect his job and I don’t need one more thing to feel guilty about.”
“All right. I get that,” Ivy said, heading out the door. Holly followed and they went to the shed to get gardening tools and gloves. Holly grabbed the long-sleeve pair.
“I thought you were finished pruning the roses,” Ivy said.
“I got rid of the deadwood, but I noticed a lot of deadheads when we pulled in the driveway. If I clip them now, I may get a second bloom later in the summer.”
“A second bloom.” Ivy grinned. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people could get a second bloom? Like in your fifties you’d become as beautiful and vibrant as you were in your twenties. You know, taut skin, no wrinkled neck and puckered underarms.”
“Throw in boundless energy, 20-20 eyesight, and no hearing loss and I’m with you,” Holly laughed putting on her gloves.
“How about increased libido and no need for lubricants?” Ivy giggled.
“You’re killin’ me,” Holly chortled as she picked up her tool bucket and walked to the front yard.
An hour later, Holly decided she had done all she could for one night. She grabbed the bucket filled with deadheads and walked to the backyard, where she found Ivy had completely weeded the vegetable garden.
“That’s it for tonight. I think I need another shower and I’m ready for bed.”
“Me, too.”
Back inside the kitchen, Holly looked over at the answering machine. No blinking light. She picked up her cell phone from the counter.
“Any message from Teresa?” Ivy asked.
“No. I’m sure I’ll hear from her tomorrow.”
That night Holly dreamt that Teresa came to visit, but it wasn’t the platinum blonde, overweight Teresa whom she’d met for lunch a few days ago. It was the slim and sexy, brunette Teresa she knew almost 30 years ago. ”Yeah, Holl. The doctor said it’s my second bloom. As soon as you start yours, we’ll hit the Sheraton Sports Bar. Just like friggin’ old times!” she howled.
36 A VISIT TO LOUIE BRUNETTI
Manelli pulled up in front of Louie Brunetti’s house on Ridge Road. He lingered, looking at the house a moment. Letting out a heavy sigh, he shut off the ignition, got out of the car and walked up to the front door. He only had to ring the bell once. Louie Brunetti himself appeared at the door. He stared at Manelli a moment, then opened the door, wide, breaking into a smile.
“Nicky, c’mon in. Gosh, it’s good to see you. Me and Nina was just talkin’ about you the other day, sayin’ how we wished you’d come see us once in a while, and now here
you are.”
Manelli stepped inside, and extended his hand to Brunetti, who grasped it and pulled Manelli in for a bear hug.
“Nina’s out shoppin’. She’s not gonna be happy, when I tell her she missed you. You know she loves you, Nicky.”
“I’m here on business, Louie.”
“Business? What business?”
“The Hagel murder investigation.”
“Oh, brother. I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that. C’mon. You know me better than that.”
“I know, Louie, but I’m just doin’ my job. I have to ask you a few questions.”
Brunetti raked his fingers through his thick gray hair. Shaking his head, he said, “Awright. Let’s go sit down.” He led the way to the living room and sat down in the armchair Manelli knew no one else dared to sit in. “Siddown,” he growled pointing to the chair across from him.
“Louie, you threatened to kill Mrs. Hagel because she opposed your application for a zoning variance.”
“I wasn’t happy about it, but I didn’t threaten to kill her.”
“There’s a recording of a Zoning Board hearing where you’re clearly heard threatening to kill Mrs. Hagel.”
“Dammit!” Louie swore. He shook his head, then looked directly into Manelli’s eyes. “I hate this modern technology. Nothin’s off the record no more.”
Manelli had to smile. ”No, Louie, nothing’s off the record.”
“Okay, so’s I threaten to off the dame. That don’t mean nothin’. I just figured if I scared her, she’d give in. You know me. Murder’s not what I do. As a matter of fact, I remember how happy me and Joe was that you got transferred from vice to homicide. We considered ourselves lucky that we wouldn’t have to worry about you investigatin’ us no more. You could even ask him.”
Manelli just shook his head. ”Where were you last Friday?”
“Last Friday? Let’s see.” Brunetti looked up at the ceiling then broke into a smile. “I was at Bally’s casino in Atlantic City. Me and Nina went down. We got a free, two-night stay. That proves it wasn’t me, Nicky, don’t it?”
“If it checks out, it proves you didn’t do it, but folks might say you had somebody do it for you.”
Brunetti sat back in his chair, and looked directly at Manelli. “I had nothin’ to do with it. I swear it on my daughter Anna Marie’s grave.”
Manelli looked down and said nothing.
After a minute, Brunetti asked, “Nicky, how you doin’? You datin’ anyone? It’s been two years now.”
Manelli looked up at Brunetti, swallowed hard and then looked away.
“You know Anna Marie would want you to be happy. No father loved his daughter more than I loved her, but son, you got to move on.” When he got no reply, he said, “Hey, whaddya hear from Nicky Junior? How’s he doin’ up there in Boston?”
At the final question, Manelli looked up, smiled and answered, “He’s doing great. He called me on Sunday. Just got another promotion.”
“That’s terrific. He’s a smart kid.”
“Yeah. He got that from his mother.” Manelli looked down again.
“You tell him to call his Grandmother, would ya?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that, Louie.”
“So, we’re good here? You believe me don’t you, Nicky?”
“Yeah, Louie. I believe you.” Manelli stood up, and Brunetti followed him to the door.
“Please, come back and visit Nina. I’m tellin’ you she worries about you and Nicky, Junior and it kills her that you don’t come around no more.”
“Okay, Louie. Tell Nina I’ll be by. Here’s my card. Tell her to call me the next time she’s makin’ ravioli.”
“If I tell her that, she’ll start cookin’ tomorrow,” Louie laughed.
The two men shook hands and parted.
Manelli had known this visit would bring back painful memories, emotions he’d worked hard to keep buried. As he drove away, he forced himself to go over his conversation with Louie. He was relieved to learn he had an airtight alibi. No, murder was not Louie’s style, not even by proxy. Steven Hagel was next on his list.
37 LOST CONTROL
The next morning as Ivy read the newspaper, Holly glanced over her coffee mug at the front page. Without her glasses she couldn’t read more than the headlines. A picture of a mangled Lincoln Continental caught her eye. She squinted to read the caption, but all she could make out was a capital “P”. She got an uneasy feeling, put down her mug, and reached for her reading glasses. Leaning across the table she read the car accident photo caption and gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked, lowering the paper.
Holly grabbed the paper from her and pointed. “That’s Teresa’s car.”
Ivy looked at the photo. “That’s why you didn’t hear back from her last night. She was in a car accident.”
“What if it wasn’t an accident?” Holly bit her lip. “What have I done?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. The caption says the driver lost control of the car.”
“And that she’s in critical condition at Hackensack Hospital,” Holly burst into tears.
“I’m so sorry, but you can’t blame yourself.”
“Well, I do,” Holly sobbed.
Ivy sat quietly for a moment or two. “You know what you have to do?”
“What?” Holly sniffed.
“You have to call Manelli.”
Holly groaned.
“You have to.” Ivy went over to the refrigerator where she had affixed Manelli’s business card with a guardian angel magnet she’d gotten Holly on a visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She got the card and the phone and handed them both to Holly, who heaved a deep sigh, looked at the card and began to punch in the number.
38 STEVEN AND ELAINE HAGEL
Detective Manelli had only spoken to Steven Hagel the day of his mother’s murder. Hagel had appeared genuinely distraught, and unable to think of anyone who might want to harm his mother. Still, destined to inherit millions, he, his son and his daughter, all had much stronger motives to kill Edna Hagel than Leonelle Gomez. They also had means and opportunity.
Manelli pulled up in front of the Steven Hagel residence located just a few blocks from Edna Hagel’s home. Compared to Edna’s modest colonial, Steven’s home was palatial. Four, two-story white pillars fronted the sand-colored brick façade. A huge chandelier hung just above the second-story, wrought-iron railed terrace positioned over the front entrance. Large urns filled with lush plantings framed the double-door front entrance. Edna Hagel’s home whispered wealth. Steven Hagel’s home screamed money.
Manelli rang the doorbell. A tall woman in a gray maid’s uniform with a white-starched apron answered the door.
“I’m Detective Manelli. I have an appointment to see Steven Hagel.”
“Yes, sir. Come in,” the woman said, a trace of a West Indian accent in her voice. “This way, please,” she said, leading him into the living room. “Have a seat. Mr. Hagel will be with you in a moment. Can I get you something to drink, sir?”
“No, thank you,” he answered.
As the maid glided out of the room, Manelli surveyed his surroundings. The spacious room had a palette of only two colors, blue and white. Robin’s egg blue walls contrasted sharply with plush white rugs. White satin upholstery covered most of the furniture. Accents included azure pillows and cobalt blue vases. Worried he might soil something, Manelli wondered how anyone could actually enjoy spending time in this room.
Before he could decide where to sit, Steven Hagel appeared. He extended his hand to shake Manelli’s.
“Have a seat, Detective. I’m hoping you’re here to tell me you have definitive proof that the Gomez woman killed my mother.”
“I’m afraid not, sir. You and I spoke only briefly before, and I just want to clarify some things. I have a few additional questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Ask me? Why?”
“Perhaps if I can refine the timeline of when and where everyone w
as, I might be better able to come up with definitive evidence.”
“I guess that’s understandable. Okay. Let’s sit down.” Hagel pointed to the two white sofas that framed the fireplace. Once they were seated, he asked, “So what do you want to know?”
“Were there any deliveries, any repairman scheduled at your mother’s the day before or the day her body was discovered?”
“No. Not that I scheduled. If the Gomez woman scheduled anything for my mother, you would have to ask her.”
“Okay,” Manelli said looking at his notepad. ”Now, the day your mother’s body was discovered, you, your wife and your daughter dropped by your mother’s in the morning. Is that correct?”
“Yes. But I told you all that before.”
“Yes, sir. Where was your son?”
“Phillip was at the store.”
“What time did he leave for the store?”
Steven Hagel‘s eyes widened. He stood up. “Are you suggesting my son may have killed his grandmother?” Hagel sputtered.
“No, sir. As I said, I just need to know when and where everyone was at the time of the murder.”
Hagel stood staring at Manelli. ”My son left for the store after breakfast, around nine o’clock.”
“Who can I talk to at the store to confirm his time of arrival there?”
At this Steven Hagel stood up. ”This conversation is over,” he shouted. “You get out of my house.”
“Steven? What’s going on?”
Both Manelli and Steven Hagel turned to see Elaine Hagel standing in the doorway. Dressed in crème-colored pants and a royal blue blouse, she matched the room perfectly Manelli thought.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on here, Elaine. Instead of building a case against that Gomez woman, the detective here is investigating us, that’s what,” Hagel said waving his arms. “He’s asking questions about Phillip. Can you believe it?”
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