by Elaine Macko
“Okay. So?” I asked Shirley.
“Just in case it happened again, she got herself prepared. She bought a gun.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Mon Dieu!” Annie said. “She did not tell us of this gun.”
And of course I never asked. I wondered if she would have said anything if I had.
“It’s like I told you, Annie, we have to take everything with a grain of salt. We can’t assume anything anyone tells us is the truth. Not that people necessarily lie all the time, but they omit stuff, like the fact that they just happen to own a gun. Of course none of this may mean anything at all in terms of the murder.”
“But how do we find out?”
“Well, we talk with her again. And now would be a good time.” I looked at the clock on my dash. “She should still be open. Maybe we can catch her before the after-work crowd hits the store.”
It was almost dark by time we got to the nursery. There were several cars in the parking lot, and I saw a couple of customers walking back to their cars with their purchases. A young woman took us to a back office where Jennifer Shalt sat behind a desk piled high with papers.
“Did you find the killer?” she asked when she saw Annie and me standing in the doorway.
“No, not yet. But we have a few more questions, if you have a minute.”
“Sure. Winnie, are there still customers?” Jennifer asked the young woman who had shown us to the back office. “By the way, this is my sister Winnie.”
“Winifred. I’m named after my grandmother, but everyone calls me Winnie. Are you the lady who talked to Jennifer about that Mr. Spiegel guy?”
“Yes. I’m Alex Harris and this is my friend Annie Willix.”
“Nice to meet both of you. Jen, I’m going to work on that flower order that came in today.”
Winnie left and Jennifer motioned us to a couple of chairs.
“So what can I do for you?”
“Since we last talked, we’ve found out a few things, which we hope you can clear up.”
Jennifer leaned forward on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “Sure, if I can.”
“We heard that the nursery isn’t doing very well and there’s a chance you might be selling it.”
Jennifer shook her head and pursed her lips. “Wow. Small towns. Nothing stays quiet for long in a small town.”
“So it is true?” Annie asked.
“It’s true that the nursery hasn’t been selling as much as we’d like. And it’s true that we’ve been approached by some investors who want the land. It’s been hard for us to compete with discount nurseries in the big stores, but our landscaping business is actually picking up. My brother’s doing a great job and hired on a new employee. And as far as this side of things goes, we’re working on some new ventures.”
“Like what?”
“You just met my sister. Well, she’s an art major and has a wonderful eye for color and she’s good at putting things together. She’s very creative, so we’re entering the floral business.”
“But you’ve always sold flowers. I’ve bought several plants from you, “I said.
“Yes, plants. But not cut flowers. We’re moving into the floral design business. Winnie’s already got several orders for a couple of weddings and a big high school reunion party in New Haven. That’s what she’s working on now. And we’ve started offering classes like vegetable gardening, floral arranging and landscape design. We have a long way to go, but I think we’re on the right track. I’ll be honest with you,” Jennifer said, as she stood up and came around the desk. “I don’t know if any of this will work. But we’ve got to give it everything we have before we throw in the towel for good. This place was started by my family. It means a lot to me.” Jennifer looked pensive.
“But?” I asked.
“My parents thought it might be a perfect time to sell. I mean, we never even considered selling, but then here come some guys from the city with money to burn. I’m not going to lie. It’s caused some tension. My other sister and parents wanted to take the money and run, but Winnie, and Tom and I, well, this is our home. I love this place. I’ve been coming here since I was a toddler. So we talked it over and decided to see how things pan out with our new services; give it another year to eighteen months and see how it goes. I’m optimistic. But what does any of this have to do with Mr. Spiegel?”
“We know about the conditions of this business. We know that if you weren’t a Shalt, if the land sold you wouldn’t get anything.”
Jennifer sat back down in her chair and looked at me. “And you thought I killed the man so no one would find out I was a Spiegel instead of a Shalt?” She shook her head. “I guess if we were planning on selling the business, I could see where someone might think that, but we’re not selling. Like I said, things are picking up. But I’ll be happy when this murder is solved. Having you and the police coming by is not good for business.”
“The police were here?” I asked.
“Yeah. They came by earlier today and asked if I had a gun.”
“And do you?” That darned police database. Of course John would know about the robbery last year and that Jennifer had a gun.
“I do. It’s all legal. And I showed it to them and it’s not the gun that killed Mr. Spiegel. I’m surprised that you suspect me.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t. But then I heard about the potential sale of the land and the terms, and, well, a few other things, but they were just rumors.”
Jennifer just stared at me. “Small towns.”
I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and I didn’t think I could press her much more for fear of accusing her of something that was totally untrue.
“And you did say that you always felt you didn’t belong. That made me think you really did think you might be the Spiegel’s child, and if the land sold you wouldn’t get anything.”
Jennifer pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Fair enough. As far as not fitting in goes, I think it’s due more to the fact that I’ve always been a type A personality. I’m the typical bossy older sister and it’s caused a few confrontations over the years, but the older I get and the older my siblings get, we’ve all mellowed and don’t take things so seriously anymore. Plus, we really have to pull together to make this business work. Look, I’ll be honest. I thought it was kind of cool that maybe I had another family. I could keep the one I have plus get to know the new one. But you just saw my sister. Everyone says we have the same walk and mannerisms. I’m a Shalt. Mr. Spiegel seemed liked a nice man just trying to find out what happened. When this is all cleared up, I hope you’ll tell me which one of us turns out to be his biological kid, but it won’t change anything for me either way because I don’t plan on selling this business. Ever.”
Annie and I left Jennifer to her work.
“So this is what you would call a dead end, no?”
“It would seem so, yes, but half the family wants to sell and the other half, not so much. It’s a precarious situation at best, and Jennifer may still have felt the need to get rid of Mr. Spiegel in case things don’t turn out well for the nursery in the end. I hope they do, but the odds are not in her favor at the moment. Or maybe the whole story she just told us is a lie. Maybe she’s waiting for things to settle down with the murder and then she’ll contact those buyers again and take the money and run. And did you notice how she stared at me when I hinted about the rumors. What was that all about? She must have known what I was alluding to.”
“I do not know if she is selling drugs or not, but she believes she is a Shalt so she would have no reason to kill Mr. Spiegel. You heard what she said about Winnie.”
“Yes, but mannerisms and a certain walk are learned, aren’t they? You watch your parents and you pick up things, like the way they hold a fork, etc. Though, I thought they kind of looked alike, but what do I know?” I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere and the clock was ticking on Annie and Gerard’s departure.
“So we keep her
on our list? But what about the gun? The police have examined it and there is not a match.” I could hear the skepticism in Annie’s voice. She was desperate, as was I, to eliminate people from our list, but so far we didn’t have any definitive proof on any of our suspects to do that.
I looked at Annie. The glow from the parking lot lights bounced off her glasses making it hard to see her eyes. I gave her a sly smile. “Doesn’t matter. She could always have another gun.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
We had time to kill. I had to pick my grandmother up after bingo because her ride there wanted to stay for the late night session. My grandmother was a spry thing for her age, but two sessions of bingo back to back was just a bit much for her. And Gerard had called Annie to say that the guys were working late. So we had time to kill. Annie and I weren’t hungry yet, so after our meeting with Jennifer Shalt, I hopped on the turnpike and we went into New Haven.
I wanted to talk with Martha Aiello again. Now that I knew what she was like, I felt better prepared to thwart her efforts at getting off the subject, and hopefully this time I could garner more out of her than I had yesterday. But first I wanted to stop by the insurance agency again. The sign on their door had said they were open until seven on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Hopefully Shelley Jamison worked late.
“You have more questions for Mrs. Jamison?” Annie asked as we walked the block to her office.
“After talking to Kathy Pastoretti yesterday, I’d like to get Shelley’s take on the crazy man who came into the hospital.”
We walked into the insurance office to find a receptionist other than Shelley Jamison seated at the desk.
“Hi, I was wondering if Shelley is still here.” I said.
“She is, but she’s helping someone. Would you like to have a seat?”
Annie and I sat down. We each picked up a magazine and looked through them while we waited. The selection was good and current, and I paged through the most recent issue of Vanity Fair. I probably didn’t have enough time to start reading one of their in-depth exposés, so instead I turned to the last page, the Proust Questionnaire, which is my favorite thing in the entire magazine. I was halfway through it when a man came out of one of the offices and left the agency.
“You can go in now,” the receptionist said, indicating the door the man had just used.
Shelley looked up when we entered her small office.
“Hi, Shelley. Do you have a couple of minutes?”
“Of course.” She straightened several papers and put a file into a basket at the corner of her desk.
Annie and I sat down in two straight back chairs.
“Can you think back and tell me if you remember anything strange happening at the hospital?”
“Strange? No, not really. We got a call when MaryAnn went into labor. I wanted to be there. I got there just in time to see Christine born. Why? Did something happen? Does it have anything to do with Christine?” Shelley asked in a panic.
“No, nothing like that. Several of the other mothers remember hearing a man come into the hospital one evening. He made a lot of noise and acted crazy. They had to call security,” I explained to her.
Shelley shook her head of dark hair. “Sorry, I don’t remember anything like that, but I wasn’t usually in the hospital at night. I would go during the day and feed Christine. Sometimes the nurse let me change her. But the truth is I didn’t want to run into MaryAnn’s mother or her ex.” Shelley’s hand went to her mouth and she let out a gasp.
“What is it? Do you remember something?”
“Alex, do you think the crazy man was MaryAnn’s ex-boyfriend? Is that why you’re here? You think he had something to do with all this?” Shelley asked.
I hadn’t actually thought of that, but maybe Shelley was on to something.
“What do you remember about him?”
Shelley reached for a paperclip and started to move it back and forth between her hands. “Oh my gosh, what was his name? I can’t remember his name, but maybe he was trying to take the baby or maybe he was hoping I was there so he could ask for money again.”
“What did he look like?” Annie asked. “Can you remember?”
“Oh, let me think.” Shelley put the paperclip down and placed her hands on her forehead. “Tall. Skinny. Like sick skinny. Like he never ate because all he did was drugs. Late twenties, maybe. And scary. His hair was shoulder length and dirty. Lots of tattoos. And he just looked mean.”
This was good. Maybe I could stop by the hospital again and see if Kathy Pastoretti’s description of the man matched with Shelley’s.
“Shelley, do you and Jeff own a gun?”
“We do. A Walther PPK.”
I gave her a surprised look. I didn’t expect her to know the exact kind of gun they had.
Shelley laughed. “Jeff said if we were going to have a gun in the house, I better know how to use it. Christine too. We took lessons at a range in Wallingford. It was actually kind of fun and made me less nervous about having a gun in the house. Christine was a natural.”
“So, what do you think?” I asked Annie as we made our way back to the car five minutes later.
“They all know how to use a gun. I do too. Gerard also wanted me to learn.”
With a police detective for a husband, I always had a gun in the house but never thought about learning to use it. Maybe I needed to talk to my husband and sign up for some lessons.
“Do you think that man was the birth father of Christine?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know, but it’s a very interesting theory. If it was him, what was the point? What was he after and why would he want to switch a baby? If he wanted his daughter, why not just take her? He could have cancelled the adoption and kept her for himself, I would imagine. But then what? It doesn’t sound like he was the type of guy who would know what to do with a baby.” It didn’t make any sense.
We drove over to where Martha Aiello’s campaign headquarters was located. As I found a parking space on the street outside her office, I could see there were lights on. I spied a couple of people still working, but I didn’t see Martha.
“What is our plan?” Annie asked beside me. “Do you think she is still here?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t see her, but her office is in the back. I don’t really want to go in, but I have no idea how long she’ll stay in there. With any luck we can catch her outside as she’s leaving.” I scanned the street for the car I saw her get into yesterday. There was a car at the end of the block that could be hers but in the dark, I wasn’t sure.
“So, we sit and wait. And while we wait, we can—what is the word, headstorm?”
“Brainstorm.” I pushed my car seat back and turned to Annie. I could still see the office and it looked like one of the workers was about to leave. We watched as a young woman walked out and headed around the corner.
“Okay. Let’s brainstorm. So far I’m looking at Andrea and perhaps Christine and Hunter as our most viable suspects. Andrea would have had a bit of time to plan her father’s murder, but for anyone else, it would have to have been a spur of the moment thing. None of the others knew Mr. Spiegel beforehand, no one was expecting him to show up, so it had to be in the heat of the moment that someone grabbed a gun and killed him. That second visit Mr. Spiegel made to Christine when Hunter was at her apartment may have been the tipping point and they decided to take action, but now we know that Mr. Spiegel showed up at Shelley’s house the night he died. When she refused to help him talk Christine into getting a blood test, maybe he went back to Christine’s apartment. Maybe she kept him there while she called Hunter.”
Annie thought this over for a minute and then nodded. “This is a good theory, but we must not discount the other suspects. We know by Monday Mr. Spiegel had contacted everyone, so they all had at least twenty-four hours to come up with a plan. Some of them longer. And of course his brother Jerry would know Sheldon’s comings and goings better than anyone. Did any of the others know where he was stayi
ng?”
“Not as far as I know, but I think he gave everyone his phone number, so all anyone had to do was call him and set up a meeting; tell him they were ready to take a DNA test. That would bring the man running.”
“But Alex, if that is the case, those calls would show up on his phone, no?”
“They would, but John said the phone was missing. I guess the phone company could give the police a list of calls, but if they did, my husband isn’t sharing that information with me. When the police found him, everything was gone, which is why they called me to identify the body. My business card was the only thing the man had on him.”
“Then perhaps his murder is nothing more than a robbery. Maybe we have been talking to all of these people for no reason at all.” Annie stared out the window looking dejected.
I watched the front of the campaign office and mulled this over.
“I suppose so. It could be as simple as that. But for the moment, let’s assume one of our suspects is the killer. Let’s list every person we’ve spoken to and identify their motive. First, the wife. She’s always the first person the police look at. She was certainly upset with her husband for obsessing over the switched child. She wanted to just leave things alone, but Sheldon wouldn’t hear of it.”
“True, but she is a bit of a drama queen, no? Her husband made her crazy, but I have a sense that this marriage was like that always,” Annie said. “And she was away with her friend and didn’t know until she got home that Sheldon had gone to Connecticut against her wishes.”
I gave a small laugh. “I think you’re right. She does have a flair for the dramatic. Okay. Next is the daughter. She probably has the most to lose, maybe everything, in fact, if the true Spiegel child were to be found. She could have also known ahead of time that her father was in Connecticut. Maybe he had even called her to say he would be close and perhaps they could get together and try to patch things up. They meet up, have dinner after he leaves Shelley Jamison, and then Andrea shoots him and dumps the body at the beach.”