The Starry Night of Death

by Lawrence J Epstein

  I just nodded and said, “Can I talk to you about my case?”

  “Sure. Why would I want to keep relaxing, enjoy my food, and talk with Daisy? I’d much rather hear your problems.”

  “I’m glad to hear that because I do have problems.”

  “All right. What’s going on?”

  “Tell me about Buzzy Young.”

  Flanagan shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. He was a partner with Spring and that meant Young had to stay late a lot. So he was there at the office. He finished. He walked out the back door. The next morning he gets up and walks outside to drive to work. Evidently the shooter was waiting for him. He took two to the chest. Close enough to the heart to do him in immediately. As you know, he was in the car and slumped over.”

  “Wait. He wasn’t shot right in the heart.”

  “No. You’re correct. It wasn’t done by a pro. This is one of the few killings in Suffolk County over the last fifty years that we’re not looking at your father as a possible suspect. The cops know the killer got close. And before you ask, it doesn’t mean Young knew him. It was rainy and cloudy. The guy could have just been waiting, saw Young, stepped forward, got close, and shot the guy two times.”

  “The police don’t have any leads, I take it.”

  “They looked at his family. They looked at Spring, because now the whole law office is his.”

  “What was his alibi?”

  “Spring said he was home. Alone because his wife was dead, Ryle. No neighbors saw him leave. He made some calls but we don’t have the time of Young’s death nailed down so that’s not much help. The truth is, there’s no evidence the partners had been fighting. Just the opposite. They seemed to get along very well. Better than most partners. And Young’s contract with Spring was more favorable to Mrs. Young than to Spring. And she was home alone too. These people should go out dancing. They’d at least have some alibi even if they got sore feet.”

  The food came. There was a little banter between Flanagan and Daisy, but she was busy and had to leave.

  “Should I ask her for her picture? I’d put it over my desk. Say it was a suspect. That way I could look at it all the time and no one would get suspicious.”

  I ignored him. “This is the case with no suspects. Two victims and we can’t figure out who did what or who might have done what.”

  Flanagan’s mouth was too full to answer. I took a bite of the sandwich. The turkey was still too dry.

  “I do have one suspect,” I said.

  Flanagan looked up.

  “The neighbor. Nelson.”

  “Yeah, I like him too. Meaning I don’t like him very much. Just one tiny little problem, Ryle.”

  “There’s no motive.”

  “I was lying. There’s no motive, no weapon, no witnesses. That’s three problems, and if I wasn’t eating I could probably think of more.”

  “He paid off someone to keep track of me.”

  “Who did he pay?”

  “That’s for later. Why would he do that if he wasn’t involved?”

  “Curiosity. He’s afraid of being thought of as a suspect even though he knows he’s not guilty. Using what you learn to blackmail someone else. Or...”

  “Never mind. I...excuse me, Flanagan. I just got an idea.”

  “I hope it doesn’t die of loneliness.”

  I ignored him, got up, and went to the back of the restaurant to a phone booth.

  I phoned Cromwell.

  “You’re more annoying than my girlfriend, Ryle, and that’s saying something.”

  “I need a rush. It means a lot to me.”

  “We’re getting near, aren’t we? I’m almost a free man.”

  “We’re definitely getting closer. You do this very fast and you get a lot of credit.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I told him what I needed. He took notes, asked me questions, and said if the information was there he’d have it in a few hours. Then I told him what else I needed, and he spent two minutes attacking my character and ancestry. But he said he’d do it. Sort of.

  “How am I supposed to find that out?”

  “You’re Cromwell. You work miracles while others claim it can’t be done.”

  “This is what I have to say to you, Danny.”

  Then he slammed down the phone.

  I went back and sat down.

  I pushed the turkey sandwich away and ordered a doughnut and a cup of hot chocolate.

  “Make the chocolate very hot, Daisy,” I said.

  “You got it, Danny. What was wrong with the turkey?”

  “Not to my taste. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Thanks. This is a real good job and I wouldn’t want any trouble.”

  “You’ll never get any from me,” I said.

  “Or me,” Flanagan added. “I’m yours, Daisy.”

  She walked away. I figured Flanagan was three months away from getting told to keep quiet.

  I ate the doughnut slowly. Then I drank. I felt the burning chocolate liquid slide down my throat.

  Cromwell would come through.

  He had to.

  And then the pieces would come together.

  And then I’d tell everyone the story.

  I arranged a follow-up meeting with Flanagan and told him who to contact.

  “Don’t forget to bring the police,” I said.

  “You’d better be right.”

  “I am.”

  I sipped the chocolate.

  “At least I think I am.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I went home and waited for Cromwell to call.

  The phone rang, and I rushed to get it.

  “Danny!”

  “What’s the matter, Marlene? Are you all right?”

  She was crying.

  “I’m okay. The children are okay.”

  “Good. So what’s the problem?”

  “It’s a tragedy, Danny.”

  “Is this about Mary Jo?”

  “Yes. She...she came here, but she just got arrested.”

  “Slow down, Marlene. She was arrested in your house?”

  “Yes. It was horrible. There were sirens and lights and about a million police.”

  “Why did she get arrested, Marlene?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “She killed Jimmy.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened? And try to be calm.”

  “She figured she needed a weapon to protect herself. I’d rather not say how she got one.”

  “Tell me you didn’t give it to her.”

  “I didn’t. Really. Oh, Danny. She had an affair with a New York City policeman and he got it for her. There was some room where they kept weapons and he stole it from there. No one knows that because the weapons supposedly can’t be traced.”

  The joys of love.

  “Okay, Marlene. So she’s got this untraceable revolver.”

  “Yes. And one night Jimmy comes to her place of work. She’s not at home. Remember?”

  “Since I arranged it, yes, I remember.”

  “He said he was working somewhere in Pennsylvania. I think it was for his brother. But something happened. I think he hit his brother. Oh, Danny. Marlene said he was very drunk. While he’s talking he gets madder and madder at Mary Jo. They fight. Everybody, including customers, is surrounding them. Her boss is too scared to step in and stop it. Jimmy takes a step over and slugs her. Hard. She falls on the floor. He kicks her, Danny. Kicks her. She tries to stand up. He slaps her with the back of his hand. He’s enjoying it, Danny. Finally he feels better. Mary Jo is worried that he’ll kill her. So she takes out the revolver from her boyfriend the cop and shoots Jimmy.”

  “Once?”

  “Six times.”

  “Great.”

  I tried to think.

  “Are her kids okay?”

  “Yes. They’re still with her mother.”

 
; “So she shoots him. And, what, she just runs?”

  “She got scared, Danny. Anybody would be. So she runs out of the store. She has a purse with credit cards. She doesn’t go back but instead goes to La Guardia and gets on a plane to see me.”

  “Don’t tell me. She used her credit card.”

  “I guess so. I mean she didn’t have enough cash to pay for her ticket.”

  “All right. She lands. And then what? Did you pick her up?”

  “No. She called me from the airport. She didn’t tell me then about shooting Jimmy. She just asked if she could come over. So I said sure. She’s my friend.”

  “How did she arrive at your house?”

  “A taxi.”

  “Marlene, she left tracks every inch of the way. She might have put a neon sign in front of your house that read ‘Killer Inside’.”

  The crying had increased in velocity.

  “Are the police talking to you as someone who helped Mary Jo?”

  “No. Should I get a lawyer?”

  “Immediately. And don’t talk to anyone before you talk to your lawyer. You may be charged as an accessory.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “Not in your mind. The law is another matter.”

  “I don’t know any lawyer, Danny.”

  “All right. I’m calling someone. He’ll be in contact. He’ll say that I told him to call. Hang on, Marlene. The Calvary are coming.”

  We hung up.

  I called a law firm in New York. One lawyer owed me a big favor. He’d have to come through now.

  I told him what had happened. I named the price he’d be paid. He agreed. I’d worry about getting the money later.

  I had barely put the phone down when Cromwell called.

  “Hey, Danny. How’s it going?”

  “What did you find out, Cromwell?”

  “All business, huh? Okay. It was all very easy. I love it when someone is corrupt. It makes my job so much easier. I’m sending you a bill.”

  “Fine. What did your corrupt person tell you?”

  Cromwell went over it slowly.

  “And that other matter?”

  “That was also easier than I thought. A jealous neighbor I guess. I don’t have photos but I have affidavits.”

  “That’s good enough for now.”

  I thought it all through.

  And then every last piece fell into place.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Flanagan’s office was crowded. The air-conditioner had to be turned on. The coffee and sweet rolls came in.

  My eyes swept the room.

  Lou Nelson was on my left. Natalie Robbins sat to his left. Joni Burns, the paralegal, was next to her. Flanagan’s desk was straight ahead, with cops on the other side and by the door. Jesse Spring was all by himself on the right. He probably liked it like that.

  Flanagan nodded to me.

  I cleared my throat and spoke up.

  “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss the murders of Mrs. Spring and Mr. Spring’s partner, Buzzy Young.”

  I wanted to put them at ease so I said, “We may not be able to solve the crimes today, but I think our discussion can lead to some progress.”

  There was a general sense of relief.

  “Let me go back and review. Mrs. Spring was shot. Mr. Spring was arrested and put in jail. That was when he saw me at the Waterbend lock-up to assist my sister. She’s a character. But that’s another story. Mr. Spring asked for my assistance. I have to say I was reluctant to give it because the group I represent tries to help those who are unable to help themselves. But then my father confessed to the crime, and I found myself in the middle of it.

  “I’ve gotten a chance to meet all of you and have useful discussions. And I’ve done some investigation and some thinking along with those discussions and I’m pleased to say I’ve reached a conclusion.”

  I paused.

  “I know the murderer. And it was only one murderer.”

  There were murmurs. Everyone thought I was going to blame them.

  I held up my hands.

  “At first I was convinced Mr. Spring had murdered his wife. I didn’t have a motive, but I’ve seen enough marriages to know that people get angry at one another multiple times a day. Maybe this was one time too many and Mr. Spring just snapped.

  “For a time, I dismissed that idea when Mr. Nelson, his neighbor, told me that he had seen Mr. Spring discovering the body. Mr. Nelson said he was out by his fence.

  “But Mr. Nelson was lying to me.”

  Nelson started to speak and then kept quiet.

  “He used the lyrics of a song to help him with his story. In fact he had not been outside. He had not seen Mr. Spring. And, most importantly, he had not been a witness to any discovery.

  “This made Mr. Spring a suspect again. It also made Mr. Nelson a suspect. After all, he had lied to me. I never learned the exact relationship he had with Mrs. Nelson. I don’t think it was romantic. I think Mr. Nelson broke into the house to steal something because he was angry with Mr. Spring. I imagined that Mrs. Spring caught him. But before Mr. Nelson jumps up, I want to add quickly that I simply don’t know if that is true. However, given the possibility of some story like it, I added Mr. Nelson back to the suspect list.”

  I stopped to sip some water and look around. I wished Flanagan would turn off the air-conditioning but I didn’t want to say it aloud. I wanted to see who would be sweating.

  “Miss Natalie Robbins is the beautiful woman with the blonde hair. She works in the Congressional office. We became friends. I suspected she was asking me too many questions about this case, so I had an investigator check. It turned out that Mr. Nelson had paid Miss Robbins to get close to me and find out if I had any information about the murders. This fact, I confess, did not help my ego. I really thought she had liked me. I suspect she asked the Congressman, a friend of her father, to have me help her learn about politics. That would get us closer. Miss Robbins is an expert at manipulating men, and I most certainly include myself.

  “So there I was. No real motive, but Mr. Nelson looked good. Of course, there was another loose end. Why, I wondered, did he kill Buzzy Young? All I could figure out was that Mr. Young heard or saw something and had to be killed.

  “I should add, out of a sense of completeness, that Joni Burns most certainly didn’t try to get close to me. Or to be cooperative for that matter.

  “And she had a real motive. She was attracted to her boss, Mr. Spring.”

  “How dare you?” she said.

  “Relax, Miss Burns. Wait until the murder accusation comes along to see if it’s you before you get excited.”

  She stared down at the floor.

  “I have to say I was relying on my grasp of human character. Miss Burns is quite smart, a bit unpleasant when I dealt with her, but, I decided, not a murderer. I admit such a conclusion is more emotional than logical. I didn’t completely dismiss her, but she stood on the outside of the circle.”

  I stood up.

  “Now, let me narrate the story from the beginning. Our tale begins in the law office. I had an investigator check Mr. Young’s records, I’m afraid.

  “What I discovered was that Mr. Young had a very interesting client who came in for legal information. Her name was Natalie Robbins.”

  All eyes turned to face her.

  “The information he gave her was not to her liking. She wanted a very different answer. And then Mr. Young got a note from Mr. Spring. Natalie had gone over to see if perhaps there was still a chance to get different legal advice. Mr. Spring, perhaps looking more at Miss Robbins than the law, decided to interpret the law in her favor. Mr. Young had started the case, so Mr. Spring asked him to change his opinion.

  “And so, Mr. Spring and Miss Robbins knew each other. I have to say, as someone who was guilty himself, that it is unfair to expect a male not to be attracted to Miss Robbins. Beyond her beauty, she has cunning, and a reasonable ability to act.


  “I don’t think it took Miss Robbins very long to note that Mr. Spring had an enormous amount of personal money and access to a lot more. He had friends who had money. You get the idea.

  “And so, Miss Robbins found herself with a new goal. She didn’t just want to be a girlfriend and get an occasional pair of earrings. Oh, no, she wanted all of it. Her goal was to marry Mr. Spring.

  “She must have tried very hard to convince him to leave his wife. Miss Robbins had quite a nice package to offer him. But Mr. Spring wouldn’t leave his wife.

  “Do you all see the dilemma that Miss Robbins faced? All she wanted was in front of her. There was only a single roadblock. And so Miss Robbins removed the roadblock. She killed Mrs. Spring. I suspect Miss Robbins had a drink of celebration that night.

  “But then a surprise. Mr. Spring, too blind to see the truth, explained to Miss Robbins that he had asked me to investigate, which as I say I did when my father became involved. Miss Robbins had a problem. She arranged to get a job in the Congressman’s office to stay close to me. She told Mr. Spring that I was mistreating her, saying she had been the killer. Oh I can just picture her crying on Mr. Spring’s shoulder.

  “And she was clever. She needed to stay out of it. She needed to throw the spotlight on someone else. So she came up with a clever idea. She had Mr. Spring give money to Mr. Nelson. The idea was to get Nelson to hire Miss Robbins to spy on me, which, of course, she was already doing with great enthusiasm.

  “You see why? Miss Robbins was thinking ahead. At one point she’d blurt out she had to watch me, that Nelson had hired her. I’d look straight at Nelson as a suspect. And, I confess, I fell completely for her plan.

  “Of course, there’s still poor Mr. Young. I don’t think he had to discover much. I think he put it together and wanted to discuss it with Miss Robbins. She was this-close. She had to get rid of him, which she did.

  “And she wanted to get rid of me. She had a friend, a disgusting man who thought he hit the jackpot when she dated him. Maybe she met him in a bar. He would do anything for her. Get rid of a guy who’s supposedly bothering her? No problem. And so he came after me. It won’t take long to get his name from Miss Robbins’ phone records.