The Driving Passion Murders

by Gene Epstein

  Robert knocked one time on Amanda's penthouse door and before he could think about knocking twice Amanda opened up the door with a glass of Chardonnay in one hand while she wrapped her other hand around Robert’s back. She pulled tightly and kissed him. A surprised but welcomed Robert wanted more. He paid no attention to what she was wearing, simply enjoying her tight hug and kisses.

  Then Amanda started rattling off with such exuberance he was taken aback. “I’ve been working six days a week for the past three months a highly classified case involving corrupt politicians within our city and quite frankly I'm exhausted. Shanahan, the district attorney, instructed me to take off for two weeks. I was thinking of getting back to my youth when I used to ride show horses and the one time that you and I rented a pair of horses and we went to the New York mountains for a week. Do you remember that? “

  “Mohonk Mountain House around New Paltz, correct?” answered Robert.

  “My mind has been so spinning that I could not think of that name no matter what and I didn't want to look it up in the AAA guide for New York State. Did you enjoy that week that we spent together? It was invigorating for me and we had some great sex.”

  “Of course I did,” Robert answered. He was excited seeing that this was the same Amanda from his youth and he rattled off, filling her in on his past.

  “I realize that other than my position working with Mrs. Moore, I stressed myself so much because I could not find a good-paying job in the theater,” he continued laughing. “I could hardly find a bad paying job, so coming to work for Mrs. Moore was really a relief to me. I felt productive and my life had meaning to me. I was happy there and got acclimated to my obligations and responsibilities within just days. It really was comfortable and felt so good knowing that I was making her remaining time as enjoyable as possible. Seeing her improve thrilled me to no end and then her being murdered for some things they stole out of the house is beyond me. How anybody could do something like that has put my nerves on edge. Every day I feel a void not taking care of her. One should never take someone else's life.”

  “Robert do you want to go on a Dutch date and go back in time to Mohonk Mountain House with me?” Amanda brazenly continued. “I have a friend who runs the stable at Mohonk and I know he will lend us two safe horses. What do you think?”

  Robert was pleasantly surprised. At first, he wasn't sure if Amanda really cared for him and if the murder of Mrs. Moore made her suspect him. If she didn't believe that he was innocent of ever harming Mrs. Moore, she would never remotely suggest going to Mohonk.

  He looked Amanda close up and smiled. “That would be wonderful. Just tell me what day you want to leave. I have no schedule to check for myself, so just let me know and I'll call up to make reservations.”

  "What are we waiting for? Every day means one day closer that I have to be back to work. Call information and get their phone number and let's see if they have a vacancy for tonight. If they do let's go. It's about 165 miles from here and probably take us three hours,” Amanda issued her prescription for a relaxing week on the gorgeous grounds of Mohonk Mountain House with its sprawling Victorian buildings situated on the top of a mountain and surrounded by 40,000 untouched acres of paradise.

  Minutes later Robert confirmed one room with a king- size bed for two for one week which was a honeymoon special rate even though it wasn't their honeymoon.

  “I can run over to my apartment and pack my bag quick enough and head back here to pick you up,” Robert told Mandy.

  “Or you can look in Rodney's closet,” she suggested. “Pick out what you want, as he was a conservative dresser and probably darn close to your size. He wouldn't mind and we can save some time.”

  “Honestly Mandy, I would feel uncomfortable. I don't want you looking at me and possibly seeing your husband. My apartment is only minutes from here on Fairmount Avenue and can be back here within 30 minutes with my own clothes. Bear with me,” he requested.

  “My car or yours?” she asked. Robert shrugged his shoulders and instead of saying it makes no difference he used one of his expressions from days at Temple, “Mach schnell.”

  “Bring your car up to the front and I will inform the porter. He’ll put it in my parking space until we come back. We’ll take my car since it's already filled with gas. I'll meet you downstairs in a half hour. Go!” were Amanda's instructions to start a week of fun and relaxation.

  Robert looked at his watch and confirmed he'd see her in 30 minutes downstairs. Amanda called downstairs as he left her apartment telling the Porter to bring up Robert’s car immediately. When Robert exited the lobby the doorman told Robert to wait a moment while his car was on its way and sure enough it was pulling under the portico. He thanked the porter and headed to Fairmount Avenue, only a little over a mile away. He rushed up to the second floor and opened up his suitcase stuffing in a sport jacket one suit two pair of slacks one sport shirt one tie and one white dress shirt. On top of that four pairs of socks including one white set of underwear for the week, one pair of black shoes, one pair of loafers, and one pair of sneakers. “That's it.” He said aloud to himself. As he started to leave the phone rang. He wondered who it could be. If it takes long, he would keep Amanda waiting and that's no way to start a relationship. That’s what answering machines are for. Robert was in his car within five minutes and on his way back to Amanda’s.

  The phone kept ringing as Robert exited. On the eighth ring, the machine recorded a message.

  “Mr. Snyder, this is Detective Simpson. We have two suspected burglars that we caught with antiques and that we would like you to identify as soon as possible. Can you get here now? If not, first thing in the morning? It's very important. Please call me or Detective Harrison.”

  ***

  As Robert pulled up his black Buick sedan, on the opposite side of the portico was Amanda's Mercedes waiting for him with the trunk lid open. This time as Robert got out of his automobile he immediately handed the keys to the Porter and reached into the backseat removing his suitcase.

  Amanda came out holding a cup of coffee. “Just throw your suitcase in the trunk and let's go.”

  Amanda drove and Robert was quite comfortable sitting on the firm and perfectly stitched pleaded tan leather seats that appeared to have thousands of pinholes in the leather for better circulation. Sitting in the cupholder on the console between the seats was a fresh cup of coffee waiting for Robert. In the console was her car phone which was turned off. She slowly maneuvered the Mercedes through Center City traffic jams and got on the ramp for Interstate 95 heading north.

  “Sit back and relax. This should be an easy drive from here. You read the AAA guidebook directions, but I think it's pretty cut and dry that we take this until we get onto 287 in Jersey. Then you'll have to tell me.”

  As they neared Edison, New Jersey, signs were posted for the Garden State Parkway. Robert instructed Amanda to take the exit as shown in the AAA Guidebook.

  “Hmm, I thought that it was a straight drive right to route 287. I guess it just seemed that way,” she said. She then realized that the last time she left from the Bucks County area and took the Tappan Zee Bridge in New York crossing the Hudson to Route 287.

  She fought her way through the traffic leading to New York City area; it was a pain that she wasn’t expecting. Living in Center City she was used to traffic congestion but New York’s was trying her nerves. Exiting the Garden State Parkway, she took the road leading to the New York Thruway and then traffic flowed smoothly with the exception of a breakdown here and there. Even so, there was still daylight left as they entered the college town of New Paltz and drove up a long and winding road, which they remembered led to their destination: Mohonk Mountain House.

  As Amanda pulled up in front of the main building, Robert was startled.

  “This looks like an old age home. Look at them.” Robert pointed to the Victorian porch where over a dozen very senior people on rocking chairs were rocking back and forth, the wooden chair’s runners sque
aking in harmony.

  “I don’t remember this being a retirement home,” Robert alarmingly stated.

  “Robert, cool out. We’re here to enjoy ourselves and relax. Don’t even pay attention. I think that it’s charming.”

  A reluctant Robert opened the trunk and removed both their suitcases and a small bag belonging to Amanda. When he entered the building his attitude changed. Once passing the porch with the old people, he entered the reception area, a room of magnificent dark oak walls, oak carved columns surrounding staircases, and dozens of people seated in groups of two and four enjoying ‘Teatime,’ a tradition for more than a century at Mohonk. At least half of them were his age; many dressed in tennis outfits or jogging clothes.

  “Now it all comes back to me. I remember this room perfectly. It was as gorgeous then as it is today,” Robert mentioned as they walked up to the reception area and signed in.

  Their room was on the second floor overlooking a majestic 17-acre lake, as if they were in the Swiss Alps. It was paradise just being here. Nothing to rush about here. Just take your time and enjoy your surroundings. The shower and bathtub seemed perfect for the building, not at all updated to anything modern but that was the charm of the place. The king-sized bed’s mattress was extremely comfortable and soft as an overstuffed pillow. There was a champagne bottle waiting for them on the bureau that had been chilled in a silver container that was filled with crushed ice. A small try of handmade cookies lay on a silver plate, smelling so good that Robert and Amanda could not resist nibbling on them. A moment later the bellboy brought their luggage and pulled out a folding stand from the closet for one of the suitcases. Robert handed the bellboy a tip but before the young man left he asked, “Can I get anything for you, Mr. Snyder? Or for you, Mrs. Snyder? Perhaps logs for the fireplace?”

  “Thank you. Yes.” Robert closed the door after the bellboy exited.

  “Assumptions in this day and age?” Amanda laughed. “I bet half the people here are not married.”

  Robert uncorked the champagne bottle, not paying attention to the vineyard or the vintage and with a ‘pop’ the cork flew across the room, making Robert and Amanda both laugh.

  Robert poured two flutes of champagne and picked up two cookies as he and Amanda sat on the plush Victorian sofa looking out the wraparound windows seeing mountain tops in every direction.

  Just as they were getting comfortable bellboy knocked at the door, delivering strips of cedar for kindling the fire and graduated sizes of wood. “Can I start it for you?” the bellboy asked and simultaneously Robert and Amanda said, “ Yes, and thank you.”

  The bellboy exited and Robert and Amanda, with drinks in hand, sat back again on the sofa watching the fire get stronger as they embraced.

  “Mandy. I just cannot believe the relief of being out of the mayhem that I have been going through and the incredible pleasure of being here with you at my side. I think the last time that I felt this way was a lifetime ago, being with you back at Temple. Thank you for the great idea of us coming here and for you being you," Robert emotionally said.

  “I've had an excellent life and all along felt that it was 90% of what I had hoped and dreamed of, saying to myself how much more could I expect? Yet all along I felt that there was still something missing that I would never experience.” Mandy had tears in her eyes. “I'm experiencing it now. I think I love you.”

  “I hope that's not the champagne talking because if that's the case I don't know what you’ll say when you find the little surprise hidden in my bag,” teased Mandy.

  “You don’t! Do you? No. But, Ms. Assistant District Attorney, I hope you do.”

  With one hand around her waist and the other around her neck, Robert drew her to his lips and gave her a long, lasting kiss. His right hand slid down looking for the waistband of her skirt to slide his hand underneath and grab her.

  “I do. Open up my pocketbook and find it if you can,” she challenged Robert.

  Besides a make-up kit, a tampon holder, a comb and a hairbrush, he found a 2 x 3-inch white plastic container holding eight joints of perfectly rolled marijuana.

  “If you're ready, I am,” she said.

  He took one of the long match sticks, that were used to light the kindling in the fireplace, from its rectangular brass case and struck it against the hearthstone floor of the firebox. The elongated matchstick ignited immediately as he handed one joint to Amanda.

  “Please, Mandy. Take the first hit.”

  Chapter 15

  After stopping at the local sandwich shop for his early morning cup coffee and a poppy seed bagel sliced in half with mayonnaise on each side, detective Theodore Harrison wiped his face, left his usual ten percent tip, then headed to the Upper Kellington Township Police Department where his office was located on the lower level. Passing two patrol officers who were leaving since their shift was over, Harrison nodded without saying a thing and entered his office cubicle. The first thing on his mind was Simpson and his success in showing the stolen articles to Robert Snyder. his morning coffee seemed to have charged him up more than usual.

  Instead of using the intercom, Harrison stood up and yelled over the partitions.

  “Simpson! I need you now.”

  Shaking his head, Detective Simpson hurried into Harrison's office. “I called Snyder’s number and only got his answering machine. I left messages three times letting him know it is important and to call me even if it's Monday. So far he didn't call, Theo.”

  “It's still early but we're sitting on these two and I'd like to still have control of them before Philadelphia sends someone here to get Billy Thompson. We might have to charge them both with burglary. Let's see what happens this afternoon and hopefully Snyder gets back to us. So far neither of them asked for an attorney and from the cash that they had in their pockets it doesn't look like either will have enough for bail,” stated Harrison.

  “Besides we already have their consent to tape-record what is an absolute confession to a burglary, we just don't know where it is and I don't want to drive them around to point out the house that they robbed. Any public defender, no matter how inept they may be, would tear us apart. Let's see how the day plays out.”

  As lunchtime approached there still was no return phone call from Robert Snyder which was concerning to Detective Harrison; however, Simpson did have some new information regarding Victor, the groundskeeper.

  “It seems as though doing a background check everything came up clear under his name. I did background checks on all the other names that he went by and one popped up showing that he was arrested in Chester for a brawl and was held for four days paying a fine but no jail time,” Simpson reported

  “Big deal! That’s it?” a sarcastic Harrison commented.

  “No, Theo. It seems as though the fight with one Rico Rodriguez was over an argument about money that he was owed for doing something for Victor and when I checked out Rodriguez it turned out that he had been arrested numerous times for burglary and served a four year sentence and was released one month prior to Mrs. Moore’s homicide.”

  "Well, Victor had a set of keys to the estate which we know and he never denied. Could he have worked with this other guy that he fought with to rob the place and it went wrong?” Harrison questioned. “ Call over to Chester and find out if they have a location for this Rodriguez guy and let's see what we can get from him, if anything.”

  “And Simpson, put a call into Robert Snyder again and tell him it's urgent that he call immediately. If you don't get an answer back within an hour put a call into that assistant DA, Dillington, in Philly maybe she knows where he is. She initially called me since she is a friend of Snyder’s.”

  “I have one of the detectives in Chester County checking for the whereabouts of Rodriguez on the phone," Simpson informed Harrison.

  ***

  Two hours passed and Simpson had his hands filled working on two other cases and forgot to call Robert Snyder. As he was walking to the men's room, needing some relief f
rom all the coffee that he had consumed that morning he realized it and turned around to place one more call to Snyder. He was frustrated because he was not getting any response from all his previous messages however he still left one more being very emphatic

  “Mr. Snyder. I need you to call me immediately. Whatever you are doing stop it and call me now.” Simpson then rushed to the men's room.

  Another hour went by with no response from Snyder . Simpson then placed a phone call to the DA’s office in Philadelphia to speak with assistant district attorney, Amanda Dillington. The operator told Simpson simply that “she's not available.”

  Simpson explained to the operator that he is a detective working on a case that she had expressed an interest in and would she be able to find someone in the district attorney’s office to speak with that might help locate her.

  “Let me find another assistant district attorney that may be able to help you, Detective Simpson,” she graciously replied.

  Simpson then spoke with another assistant district attorney and informed him that Amanda Dillington knew one of the persons of interest in a homicide. All he wanted to know is if he knew where she may be, since he needed to speak with her. He explained to the assistant DA that they needed that person to identify articles that they have in hand at the Upper Kellington police department, which may have been stolen during a homicide.

  He was informed that Amanda was on a two-week vacation. Her car phone number was not available; however, her penthouse phone number was given to Detective Simpson.

  Simpson immediately placed a phone call to Amanda's apartment and once again an answering machine picked up. He left a detailed message and requested that she respond as soon as possible noting that they are holding two suspects and goods stolen from what appears to be Mrs. Moore's estate.

  After that, he focused his attention on two other cases that he's been actively involved with and minutes later the operator at the Philly DAs office called Simpson to give him Dillington’s personal car phone number since they realized the urgency.