by Liz Eagle
Gus watched as Dr. Lewis looked at the report and rubbed his forehead with his hand. Having been trained in reading interviewees’ body language, Gus noticed the doctor was either thinking about something or trying to make up a story. “Now that I read it,” the doctor said, “I think I do remember this case. I can assure you, sir, that I don’t make mistakes. Obviously, from this photo, there were no ligature marks present. They may have appeared on the body later, that sometimes happens you know. I am not sure when this picture was taken or how you were able to get your hands on it. I don’t recall anyone taking a picture of the body. I was, as you likely know, ordered by the local police to do a rapid examination so I based my findings, having no other evidence to consider, on the most common method of death given the specific circumstances.” The doctor looked up and slapped the file and picture back at Gus’s chest. “I have real doctor work to do and must get back to the lab. Have a good day.” The doctor turned and walked away.
Gus was surprised at the doctor’s unprofessional, unconcerned reaction. He had always thought of doctors as being very compassionate people, especially towards family members of their patients. “Thank you for your time, Doc,” he said to his back, “I appreciate it.” There was nothing left to say. Gus just had a feeling that the doctor hadn’t told him the real story, assuming that he wouldn’t be knowledgeable enough in such matters to realize it. He was completely unaware that Gus wasn’t your average joe. Now Gus had even more questions, and they were aimed at Dr. Lewis. What possible motive could the good doctor have for identifying the cause of death as strangulation when there were no outward signs, and no autopsy had been conducted? The list of possible suspects just kept getting longer.
Chapter 27
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
“Hello, Dr. Tom,” Judge Stone said to his close friend and personal physician. “Thanks for taking my call.” He had called to get more information on how doctors did autopsy reports or ruled on the manner of deaths back in the 1940s. This was something that was totally out of his league, and he was not afraid to admit it.
“Good to hear from you, Judge,” the doctor replied. “How are things in federal court these days?”
“Staying busy, unfortunately, there is no shortage of business,” the judge said. “Say, I reached out to you because I have a medicine-related question. It is way out of my purview, and I’m not really sure you can help, but I needed to start somewhere. Do you have a minute for me to ask a few questions?”
“Sure,” Dr. Tom replied. “What can I do for you? I am all yours unless you are going to put me on the stand and make me swear to tell the truth,” he said jokingly to his friend.
“Ha!” Judge Stone let out his big belt of a laugh. “No, not today, but the truth would be helpful. I am researching a case for someone. It actually happened back in 1945 or thereabouts, and I was wondering about the way doctors processed death certificates and determined the manner and mode of death. Am I correct in assuming that it was not as thorough back then as you docs do it today?” Judge Stone asked.
“Boy, howdy, you are right,” Dr. Tom said. “It is nothing like we do today. You know, back then we didn’t have DNA testing, and unless the family agreed to an autopsy, the doctors were relied upon to determine the manner of death. They just used all of their prior knowledge to make the best assessment given the circumstances. Not very accurate, you could say. Where did this take place, by the way?”
“A small town in western New York, I believe,” Judge Stone said. “A friend of mine has found some old documents detailing a homicide from back in the day, and the cause of the deaths was ruled as strangulation without any marks present on the necks. Honestly, could a doctor, back then, have overlooked some evidence in a murder investigation or possibly missed it for some reason? We are suspicious that someone may have withheld information or possibly even falsified a death certificate. Do you think any of those possibilities could have been feasible? Or could it be that it was just the norm to be less thorough?” the judge asked.
“Yes, siree they could have. You know, I really think that things like that went on a lot in those small towns back then and people, if unscrupulous, could get away with almost anything,” the doctor said. “Who knows what the doctors and other professionals got away with, probably plenty. I would not put it past a not-so-professional doctor that long ago to miss something, either on purpose or accidentally. Back then the decision about the manner of death rested totally with the doctor who was available at the time. Most hospitals didn’t even have morgues as we know them today, and the primary cause of death back then was tuberculosis. If I remember my medical history correctly, the death certificate was used only as a means for recordkeeping, just like marriage and birth certificates. In some communities, autopsies were not performed on every individual due to religious beliefs, or educational background, let alone the cost,” the doctor said.
“You have to understand, Judge,” he said, “that back then, especially in small towns, doctors and lawyers were like gods. Not a whole lot of people had the means to go to college after The Great Depression, so everyone worshipped them and took everything they said as the gospel. It could have been falsified, and no one would have had the knowledge to challenge it or even have the means to go behind them to double-check or follow up on the findings. They just took what the doctor said as the truth. These days, it is almost the opposite; there are checks and balances everywhere. Hell, I can’t even take a shit in the men’s room without someone in the hospital putting it on the internet,” the doctor said, laughing.
Judge Stone laughed at his friend’s comments. “Thanks, Doc,” he said. “Well, based on that, I guess that puts me up there with the gods, right?” They both laughed, and the judge thanked him. “You were a big help,” he said. “I appreciate your input. If I see I have more questions, I will call you. Stay out of trouble,” Judge Stone said before hanging up the phone. He began to wonder if the doctor in Warsaw had, in fact, tampered with the death certificate to cover up something or protect someone. But, then, what was the real cause of death? Was Gus on to anything with the copper sulfate trail? Could copper sulfate even cause death? He would keep reading and see what other questions he had, making a note to tell Lil what his friend had said.
Chapter 28
1945 Warsaw, New York
“Now, don’t get carried away, Milton!” Max said to his brother-in-law. “There is no way you can draw Gynnie and me into this. You had better hold your horses and stop making accusations like that. I am no lawyer, but I do know what Gynnie and I do, and we are in control of our part of the situation.” Max was angry that Milton and Louise had come over to discuss what exactly Gus was doing in town and what he was looking into. It was not a discussion, it was an accusation.
“Gus works for a federal agency, and he is some sort of investigator,” Milton said. “He is snooping around town and you are encouraging him just by letting him stay here, and we want you to know that we don’t appreciate it,” Milton said to Max, looking to his sister, Gynnie, for approval, reassurance, and affirmation. Gynnie was not about to cause any trouble between her brother and husband. This was a potentially lose-lose situation, and she knew it. Gynnie knew when to keep her mouth shut, and this was one of those times. She prayed they would just get it out of their systems and that things would go back to normal.
“We are not taking sides, Milton,” Max said. “What you and Louise do in your own time is no business of ours. We make wine and brandy and rent rooms. That is all! Now, getting together with you and Louise for sex is fine, as long as no one else in town finds out. I will go out on a limb here and add that we can even make a special batch of wine, but you know that is only for a select group of people in town. You know that.” Max was getting tired of arguing. This was pointless. Milton was being very paranoid about Gus, and it was getting annoying. Gus had not given Max any reason to think there was anything going on t
o be so worried about.
Milton sat down on the settee and rubbed his chin. He was clearly worried about what Gus would find out. He had more at stake than just sex, alongside Max and Gynnie. He had a law practice, and his son would be joining him soon. He could not let Phillip down. This was too much to give up on and walk away. Plus, he had to keep up appearances for his wife’s sake; Louise would certainly never inherit the Eastman Kodak fortune if she was a part of or connected to any type of scandal, let alone a murder case.
“Listen,” Max said trying to calm everyone down. “Why don’t we give it more time and see what comes to the surface. Gus seems like a pretty reasonable guy. I feel like we are getting close, like friends even. In fact, just the other day he wanted to go down and see the wine cellar. When we did, he asked me for some pointers on how to make wine, saying he wanted to make some himself.”
“What?” Milton asked, standing up and making a fist. “You did what?! You took him down to the cellar! Are you mad?” He turned his back on Max and brought his fist up to his mouth. He wanted to hit something.
“Hey, watch it, Buddy,” Max said. “There was no harm done. All he did was take a look around. Luckily, I had just come from down there and moved stuff around and put the brandy where he would not see it. He didn’t see anything…how do lawyers say it…anything… ‘incriminating,’” Max said, standing up to try to defend his actions.
“You have got to be more careful,” Milton said, his voice starting to rise. “I know for a fact that, for whatever reason, he is looking into the murder of those two girls at the park. He went to the courthouse and then to Attica Prison to talk to Harvey. There is no telling what lies Harvey told Gus. We are on thin ice here, and all of us have to be careful. Do I make myself clear?”
“Well, I sincerely doubt that Inmate Harvey saw us on our ‘how’s your father?’ nights,” Max said, “so what’s there to worry about? He is oblivious to anything else.” He did not really understand what had Milton so upset, thinking their secrets were safe and that as long as Milton did not lose his head, they were going to get through this. “Besides, who is going to believe a common criminal?” Max asked.
“It’s not just that,” Milton said. “Josh Parrish said Gus went to the courthouse and he got copies of the court hearing on Harvey, too. Remember the jars of brandy that went mysteriously missing at the crime scene? I am sure that Harvey didn’t leave that little item out of his talk with Gus. It won’t be long before Gus comes knocking on my door wanting to talk about Harvey’s defense strategy. Then what am I going to do? I wonder if any of my other clients have asked to see Gus?”
“Well, why can’t you just plead the fifth?” Max asked. “And what do you mean by other clients? Now what have you done?” he asked, not really understanding what those legal terms meant. All Max knew was that he was becoming more and more irritated.
“If you must know, I may have a client or two that was not completely satisfied with my services,” Milton said. “Anyway, it’s called attorney-client privilege, or fifth amendment right, for your information. Why are you being such an imbecile? And, yes, I can use attorney-client privilege, but if he is smart he will get a warrant, probably a federal warrant and then I am toast. May I remind you that at that point this whole family is toast?!” Milton said.
“Now there you go again, getting carried away,” Max said. “Just be honest with him or lie, I don’t give a shit. Just make it all go away. You are the all-wise lawyer in town. Get with your fancy friends, the doctor, the dentist, and the judge and come up with something, damn it! If this goes on much longer,” he said, “we will have to close down the inn and move away. I wonder, then, what everyone in town will do for their precious wine!” He was raising his voice now and realizing how grateful he was not to have the tenants upstairs at the moment.
Milton could not resist the opportunity to come back with a snide remark. He rather enjoyed putting Max in his place, occasionally. “Well, it appears you have conveniently forgotten how my knowledge of the law has saved your ass a time or two. You seemed to have forgotten how I got you out of that lawsuit a few years ago and how I helped with that small civil matter between you and your neighbor,” he said. “Why is it that I seem to have taken on the responsibility of protecting this family at every turn?”
“Alright, the two of you stop it right now!” Gynnie shouted, having taken all she could of the arguing and yelling. “I agree with what Max said,” she said. “Let’s just wait and see what develops. Gus seems to be a fair man. No one really knows about our ‘how’s your father?’ nights, and that is all we are guilty of right now, right? The only time anything has been mentioned unintentionally was the first night they were here last fall. Max was drunk and after dinner he blurted out something like ‘here’s to how’s your father?’ nights, but I am sure they did not catch on. There is nothing to worry about, at all.”
Just when Louise thought that things could not get any worse, Gynnie dropped this tidbit of information on them. “Oh no!” Louise exclaimed and glared at Max. “Max, you did what? You actually said that phrase in front of them?” Louise was furious and now so was Milton.
“You really are one of the most stupid, idiotic people on this planet,” Milton screamed at Max, stood and stomped his foot. “You had better learn to control your mouth.” He quieted for a moment. “I knew that girl was onto us, the way she was acting at dinner...but I couldn’t figure out how on earth she would suspect, I didn’t think Phillip was that stupid,” then he carried on with the screaming. “Remember what I said, if I go down, we all do! Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Damn, you are an imbecile!” Milton was shaking his fist at Max.
Gynnie was on her feet, toe to toe with her brother. “I see no reason to panic or jump to conclusions just yet. What’s done is done! Max feels bad enough. Anyway, if Gus has questions, he will come to us. I think he trusts us, as Max said. We can keep an eye on him here and listen to his discussions with Jacqueline. We hear just about everything through the vents in this old house, so don’t worry. We will keep an eye out. Now, you two go home before he comes back. We will stay in touch. In the meantime, Milton, you and Louise just go back to your normal routine. We will get together next week when this is all blown over.” Milton and Louise left in their car at just about the same time they would have if they all had sex, but, of course, feeling just a little bit different.
Chapter 29
1945 Warsaw, New York
“Hello! I’m home!” Dr. Lewis called out in the big house he and his wife owned on Main Street. There was no answer. He was relieved to be alone and that he didn’t have to be content or in love with his wife Cynthia. They had a very strained relationship, partly because of his multiple affairs, and partly due to her drinking. She drank way too much. It had developed slowly over time, and he could pinpoint the exact time their relationship started to go south. Dr. Lewis blamed it on the loss of their son, who died from a concussion after he was struck by a car when he was crossing Main Street after being at the library. He was not scheduled to be on rotation at the hospital at the time, but even if he had been he doubted he could have saved him. Even their daughter could not be of comfort to them. As parents, they practically ignored her after that.
They were never the same after that terrible tragedy. Their son was buried in the Warsaw Cemetery, and they went there often to look at his grave and place flowers and a new shining angel on it every year. It was such a difficult loss for a married couple to endure. As one of the few doctors in town, and one of the most successful, Dr. Lewis often had to break sad news like that to parents, but he could not accept it himself. He had felt so alone ever since that day.
Cynthia had lost interest in sex and stayed chronically depressed. She turned to beer and wine for comfort. Though he had tried many times to console her, she would not budge. Cynthia was stuck in her misery, and she wanted him to be right there with her. Dr. Lewis wanted no pa
rt of it. Sure, he grieved like any father would, but he rationalized that since he was still living and still relatively young, that he would continue to live. He found solace in some of the nurses at the hospital, and they satisfied all his urges to perfection. But he didn’t limit his escapades to solely nurses, there were rumors that he would have sex with just about anyone he could find who was willing.
Dr. Lewis wanted to be with the nurse tonight, but she was having dinner with friends, so he came home after his shift. He wondered where Cynthia was. The other night, she said she was at the horse races in Batavia. It was a pure miracle that she had just missed him and the nurse. They had just left before the race began. He also spotted Phillip Chandler coming in the door of the buffet. They had left before he could see them. It was odd that Phillip was alone. It was the rumor in town was that he was hot on the trail of some beautiful model from the city. But Phillip was widely known as a womanizer, so if he had ditched the girlfriend for something more exciting, it would not surprise him. After all, look at what he was doing.
“Hi,” Cynthia said as she walked in the back door and placed a brown paper bag of groceries on the kitchen bar. “I saw your car in the garage. Did you have a good day?” She was clearly disappointed that he was home, as she had hoped to have a night to herself. After being turned down by Phillip the night before, Cynthia had looked forward to enjoying the six-pack of Schlitz beer she had bought. Now she would have to fake being “nicey, nicey” and pretend they actually had a marriage when in actuality it was only a pretense, and she was sure the whole town knew it. She would have to make the best of it though, she thought, because she was married to the town’s best surgeon. They were rich, and she enjoyed the benefits of the money. New dresses and a nice kitchen were not things easily given up by a respectable woman.