Murder in the 11th House

by Mitchell Scott Lewis

“I was just about to call you. Dinner is ready,” said Julia, as she served Lowell a plate of organic multigrain pasta with a rich homemade all-organic sauce

  Lowell looked down at the scrumptious meal he realized he was never going to get to eat. “Everyone has to leave immediately.”

  “What’s wrong? asked Melinda.

  “Someone’s been in my office. I can tell. Something is very wrong.”

  Melinda picked up on what her father was saying immediately. “Oh, my God, there’s another bomb, isn’t there?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I don’t want to take any chances. I want you all out of here now while I search.”

  “Where do you think it is?” asked Johnny.

  “It could be almost anywhere.”

  “We have to search this entire building from top to bottom now,” said Melinda.

  “Don’t be stupid. You all have to leave now. I’ll search the house alone.”

  “I suggest we investigate each floor together as a group,” replied Melinda ignoring him, “rather than running around haphazardly. That way we can be more thorough and finish quicker.”

  Johnny interrupted. “There are several logical places it would be. As low in the building as possible, to cause more damage, or where the most people would be, like a living or dining room.”

  Despite the chill, Lowell ordered everyone out into the backyard. “Melinda, please call the police. I am going to the basement.”

  Johnny didn’t budge.

  “I told everyone to leave, and that includes you.”

  “Easy, big daddy.” She had an odd grin on her face. “This is what I do. Get it?”

  “I will not have you risk your life to save a building. I can always repair any damage done, but I can’t fix you.”

  “You saved my life by bailing me out of jail. And now you and your daughter are trying to prove me innocent. There’s nothing I can ever do to repay you. Let me do this. I’m the best there is at it.”

  ***

  In the basement, Johnny tilted her head like a cocker spaniel listening to a far-away noise only she could hear. She walked around the room barely making a sound. Then she stopped.

  “It’s here,” she pointed at Lowell’s desk “It’s under here.”

  She got on her knees and examined the bomb. “You want the good news or the bad first?”

  “Just tell me.”

  “The good news is it’s not a remote control. It’s running on a timer, so there’s no chance someone can blow it up while we’re standing here.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “We got about ten minutes before it goes off.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Get me some tools. I need a wire cutter, a pair of long-nosed pliers, a small screwdriver and a lot of luck.”

  Lowell bolted up the stairs and returned with a toolbox.

  Johnny flipped open the lid, searched around for the right tools, and began to work on the bomb. She removed its casing and unscrewed the connections holding the wires.

  “It has a safety on it, a false set of decoy wires. They put those on it to make it difficult to do what I’m doing.”

  The timer showed one minute.

  “Johnny, are you sure? There’s still time to get out.”

  She held up two sets of wires.

  “One is the real one, and one is the dummy. If you cut the dummy wires you set off the damn thing instantly.”

  “So how do you know which is which?”

  She took a deep breath, held the two wires in her hand, and said: “You can’t.”

  The timer showed ten seconds. Nobody was leaving the building now.

  “Then how do you decide?” a bit of sweat running down his knit shirt.

  “The same way I did in the army when I saved a squad from a terrorist’s homemade cup of soup like this one.”

  The clock showed eight seconds.

  “And how was that?”

  “Eenie meenie minie…”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Lieutenant Roland entered the townhouse with another officer.

  “This is officer Loonan. His specialty is explosive devises.”

  “Where did you find it?” asked Loonan.

  “It was under my desk.” Lowell walked them to the scene. “We left it where we found it.”

  Loonan got on his knees and examined the bomb. “Christ. It would have blown you clear through the roof.”

  “Who found it?” asked Roland.

  “Johnny.”

  Roland raised an eyebrow.

  “Maybe she knew where it was,” said Roland. “Did she defuse it?”

  “Well, you don’t think I did, do you?”

  “This has a set of dummy wires,” said Loonan. “How would she have known which ones to cut?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Well, I think it’s rather suspicious,” said the officer, as he prepared to take the now impotent bomb out to a waiting police van.

  Roland stayed behind for another moment. “You really can’t ignore this anymore. You have a crazy woman living with you. I can have her bail revoked tonight, if you like.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I think we have this under control.”

  The lieutenant laughed. “Under control? She almost blew up the whole block. How do you think your neighbors would feel about that?”

  “Hyperbole doesn’t suit you, lieutenant.”

  “Hype what? Oh never mind. How is the case going?”

  “Fine.”

  “That’s not what I’ve been hearing. I think you got nothing. And I think she’s panicking and desperate to put the blame on someone else. This would be a good way to do so, don’t you think?”

  “Not if she was killed along with us.”

  “But she wasn’t, was she? She managed to disarm it just in time. Made herself out to be a big hero in the process. I’ll let you know what they come up with after they examine the bomb further.”

  “Thank you, I would appreciate it.”

  Roland looked around him. “It would’ve been a shame if such a beautiful house blew up.”

  Lowell couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or envy he heard in Roland’s voice. A combination of both, he finally decided.

  He walked Roland to the front door.

  “I’ll be extra careful,” he said, shaking the Lieutenant’s hand. “And thank you for your help.”

  ***

  “What did he say?” asked Melinda.

  “He thinks Johnny’s responsible for it all and that it’s just a matter of time before she succeeds in killing us. What do you think?”

  “I think Lieutenant Roland is a…”

  “Yes, I’m sure you do.”

  Lowell went back downstairs and joined Mort. They ran the recorder back carefully watching the monitor as it showed the backyard. It took until the second playing for Lowell to see it. “Freeze it. Look at that.”

  Mort stopped the tape, leaned over, and looked at the monitor. “What?”

  “Just wait a second. Run it back a bit and watch the lower right-hand corner.”

  Mort rewound the digital tape a few seconds and played it back. In the bottom of the screen suddenly the tail end of a black squirrel appeared running across the yard by the back door.

  “Okay, so a squirrel ran by. I’ve seen New York’s wildlife before. You think he set off the sensor detector? I thought it was programmed to ignore anything under a certain size.”

  “It is. Just watch.”

  As they watched, another black squirrel darted across the yard in the exact same place. It was followed a minute later by a third, and a fourth.

  �
��Son of a bitch,” said Mort. “They looped it.”

  “They must not have seen the squirrel. Evidently someone got in here, set the bomb up and then tried to cover their tracks in a hurry.”

  “But there was someone in the house all day, wasn’t there?”

  Lowell picked up the house phone. “Julia, would you mind coming downstairs for a minute?”

  She walked down the steps.

  “Was anyone in my office today?”

  “Oh, no, sir. Nobody would come in here without your permission.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Were you in the house all day?”

  “I was here all day. I didn’t even go to the store. I only went out once for a few minutes when there was that big noise. But I never left the front of the house.”

  Lowell and Mort exchanged a glance.

  “What noise?” asked Mort.

  “Well, it was a little past noon. Sarah went to Staples and Andy went with her, you know, like you said, nobody should go out alone. But I was still here making corn bread when there was a big explosion across the street. I ran to the front door. I’ve been a little jumpy lately. When I got outside a man from Con Ed came over and talked to me.”

  “What about?” asked Lowell.

  “He was telling me not to worry. That it was just a boiler accident in a vacant building. He was very friendly. Every time I tried to go back inside he had something else to tell me. Like how to save money on the electric bill, did we ever have our wiring checked, all sorts of things.”

  “I assume you turned off the alarm while you were outside?”

  “Of course. If I left the door open more than a few seconds it would have gone off, so I had to shut it down. But I stayed right by the front door.”

  “How long were you out there?”

  “Couldn’t have been more than five minutes or so.”

  Mort and Lowell exchanged a glance. “Thank you.”

  “Will you two be coming up for dinner?”

  “In a little while.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep it warm.” She headed up the stairs.

  Mort went back to watching the replay on the screen. “They looped all the cameras on the system through the computer, inside the house and outside. Someone was quite knowledgeable.”

  “So it’s useless?”

  “Well, yeah, that system is. But remember a couple of months ago when I talked you into putting in several cameras to cover the stairs? Well, I never got a chance to connect the feeds into the main system, and so they work independently. Whoever was in here couldn’t know that. Maybe one of the cameras hidden there caught something.”

  He went to the stairs and opened a camouflaged panel in the wall. Inside was a tiny digital camera, which he removed. He then plugged it into the computer and pushed play. For about two seconds a man’s form appeared.

  “Run it back. Can we get a better shot of him?” asked Lowell.

  “Not with this software.”

  “Plug it into my main computer and double-click Delaney on the desktop, then click on video, and then try again.”

  Mort did as suggested and was able to enhance the picture to near perfection. “Delaney, huh? I’ve worked with some of his technique. This is as good as I’ve ever seen.”

  “He’s a genius with this stuff. This uses theoretical input to determine a person’s features. It was originally invented for the military, but it’s being used by everyone from the police to casinos. Video enhancement is big business, and Delaney continues to improve on it.”

  “Are you going to bring this to Lieutenant Roland?”

  “Not yet. What have I got? A two-second shot of a man on my staircase? That hardly qualifies as proof. I’m afraid I’ll have to find more evidence before I could convince him of Johnny’s innocence.”

  Mort froze the picture and they sat staring at the face of their assailant. He was a large, powerfully built blond man, with no discernible humor in his face.

  “You know him?”

  “Not yet,” replied Lowell, staring at the man who had put his home at risk and his loved ones at death’s door, “but I will.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Saturday was beautiful, and it had turned unseasonably warm again. It was the end of November but felt more like early autumn. Sunshine stroked the sky as a fall breeze meandered across Manhattan Island. It was eight in the morning. Lowell sat out in the backyard with his coffee and the New York Times listening to the birds and their morning gossip. It must have been a day just like this when Vernon Duke wrote Autumn in New York, he thought. Lowell cherished his mornings and got up quite early, even on the weekends. It helped organize his mind for the day. He was on his second cup half an hour later when Johnny appeared.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” said Johnny, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You always get up this early?”

  “If you miss the morning you will be chasing it the rest of the day.”

  She looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were pillow lines across her face. “How do you do it?” She tried to push down a cowlick on the back of her head.

  “I don’t drink too much.”

  She laughed. “Is there a second choice?”

  Julia came out with a tray and put down a plate of eggs and bacon, rye toast, and a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “To the hero who saved my house.”

  Johnny smiled sheepishly. “It was nothing.”

  “Nonsense. Anything you want, you just ask. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Mr. Lowell, can I make you something?”

  “Not now, Julia, thank you. Maybe a little later.”

  “You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Everyone says that.” She stood her ground.

  Lowell laughed. “All right, I’ll have some toast.”

  “And some organic eggs.”

  “Just toast.”

  “Yes, Mr. Lowell, toast.” She headed back inside. “And eggs,” she muttered under her breath.

  Johnny attacked her breakfast. “What can we do on the weekend?” she asked, in between bites. “Would it be all right to go out for a little walk?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Johnny pouted. “Jesus, this is like being in jail.”

  “The food’s much better.”

  Johnny laughed. “That’s true.”

  “Look, I’m getting a little stir-crazy myself. I need to buy my aquatic friends a new home. Would you like to come along?”

  “Oh, God, yes. Anything to get out of here for a few hours.”

  “But you have to follow my instructions to the letter, is that clear?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He looked at his watch. “They open at ten on Saturdays, so after we eat and shower, let’s take a ride over there.”

  ***

  At ten-fifteen Johnny was waiting by the front door chatting with Mort. She was showered and looked more refreshed. Lowell came downstairs a few minutes later.

  “Turtleneck, jeans, and loafers again. What a surprise.” Johnny teased Lowell.

  Mort looked at Lowell seriously. “Are you sure going out is such a good idea?”

  “We should be all right. The limo has been checked and rechecked, and we’ll have Andy with us. Besides, I don’t think they’ll try anything in broad daylight. That doesn’t seem to be their style.”

  Once outside the front door, Lowell saw the police car parked out front. A little late, but still welcome. Andy was talking to the cop in the car, the limo idling nearby. Johnny and Lowell came down the steps, climbed into the limo, and headed to the Cuddles and Puddles pet store on the ground floor of
a classic four-floor walk-up on Second Avenue, sandwiched between a nail salon and a tanning place. Once inside, Johnny was like a kid in a pet store. She went up and down the aisles talking to the birds and tapping on the fish tanks. The puppies got much of her attention, until it was time to pick out the new home that Buster and Keaton would share.

  The salesman was quite helpful. Lowell had known him for years. “These two are the top of the line for little fellows like yours,” he said. “With each there is a continuous flow of recycled water and enough room for them to grow to their heart’s content.”

  “What do you think,” Lowell asked Johnny.

  “You want me to decide?”

  “Sure.”

  She looked at both tanks then asked the salesman: “Which is easier to clean?”

  “This one has a flushing system that filters the water as it recycles.”

  “How often do you have to change the filter?”

  “Once every three months,” said the salesman.

  “How about this one?”

  “That also has a filtering system, but the filter only has to be washed out, not replaced.”

  “But which one does a better job?”

  “I would say the one with the replaceable filter. It’s a bit more work and the filters cost a few bucks, but it cleans the water better.”

  “Then that’s the one I would take.”

  “Done,” said Lowell.

  Johnny was over by the parrots as the salesman was ringing up the sale.

  “We may not be here much longer,” he told Lowell.

  “Why?”

  “The landlord is tripling the rent. It’s too much for my boss to keep the place. It’s so stupid. Why would he throw us out after all these years, especially when the economy is in such bad shape?”

  Lowell knew the answer to that. “Greed.”

  Lowell told him to send the equipment the following Friday to the townhouse. He would then retrieve his little friends and move them in with everyone else.

  ***

  When they got back to the townhouse Melinda was waiting anxiously. “Can we talk?”

  They went downstairs to his office.

  “Mort showed me the video.”

  “Good. I want you to be aware of this man and watch yourself. But under no circumstances are you to approach him or let him know that you recognize him if you cross his path.”