Julius Katz and Archie

by Dave Zeltserman

  Cramer didn’t give Julius much time before he was pounding on the door a second time. He had his fist raised and ready to strike the door a third time when Julius opened it. Cramer slowly lowered his hand and stood red-faced and breathing hard as he stared at Julius.

  “About time,” he complained. It took Julius all of thirty-eight seconds to answer the door from the first knock. “I’m taking you with me to the station to answer some questions,” Cramer forced out, his voice strained.

  Julius showed a confused look, even scrunching up his eyes as if he didn’t have any idea what Cramer was talking about.

  “For what reason?” he asked.

  The color in Cramer’s face went from red to white as if a switch had been thrown. While I detected a slight tremor in the homicide detective’s hand, he mostly kept himself composed, although his voice sounded even more strained as he asked Julius if he knew Kenneth Kingston.

  “He’s a client of mine,” Julius said, still with his confused look, maybe now more innocent than confused. “Why?”

  Cramer clamped his mouth shut tight for a moment. He looked mad enough to chew nails. “Can the act, Katz,” he finally spat out. “Your client was shot dead. A bullet through the heart. As you damn well know!”

  “I am not omniscient, Detective. I knew nothing of the sort, and I have no idea why you would think I did.”

  Cramer’s eyes narrowed as he stared imaginary bullets at Julius. “You don’t seem all that surprised to hear about it,” he said.

  “I’m not a dunce, Detective. Your coming to my doorstep like you did was enough to let me know that someone I knew or worked for had been murdered. But it wouldn’t have mattered, though, if I had gotten the news from a girl scout who had come to sell cookies instead of from you, my reaction would still have been the same. An unfortunate reality is that my line of work requires me far too often to deal with sordid unpleasantness, even murders, and while news of most untimely deaths saddens me, I’m afraid I’ve grown sufficiently callous to where they’re no longer a surprise.” Julius shook his head, his lips pressed tight enough to form a grim line. “No, Detective, I see nothing that I can offer you, and unless you have an arrest warrant I will not accompany you to your station. If you are able to obtain an arrest warrant it would be only be by dubious means, and I would not speak once you had brought me there. If you wish to talk with me civilly, I will invite you into my home, although I can’t imagine what good it would do you.”

  You could see that it killed Cramer to give in, but he did so, muttering okay under his breath as if it were a curse. Julius led the way, bringing Cramer in to his kitchen instead of his office. Once there, Julius asked Cramer if he’d like some coffee. I could hear Cramer grinding his teeth for several seconds before telling Julius, “No thanks.”

  “That’s too bad,” Julius said. “This is a new imported French roast. I’ve only started using it last week, and it’s really very good. I’ll be making some for myself and if you change your mind, let me know.”

  Julius retrieved the beans from his refrigerator, and as he brought them to his coffee grinder, an exasperated Cramer snapped at Julius to quit his stalling.

  “By now I know your act by heart and I’m not going to put up with it,” Cramer threatened.

  Julius sighed. “I’m only trying to be hospitable, Detective, but fine, ask your questions as I’m brewing the coffee.”

  “Awfully civic-minded of you, to be willing to answer questions in a murder investigation,” Cramer said, his raspy voice dripping with sarcasm. He had to stop then as the noise from Julius’s coffee grinder drowned out his voice. Once this ended, Cramer asked Julius what Kingston hired him for.

  “To help him with a publicity stunt—”

  Cramer exploded with that. Not literarily, of course, but figuratively. I guess it had been building up from the moment he first learned that Julius was somehow involved.

  “A publicity stunt?” he croaked out. He would’ve been yelling except his voice had grown too hoarse for that. “He pays you fifty thousand dollars and you’ve got the nerve to tell me it was for a publicity stunt? And we know about the fifty thousand dollars, Katz. We found an entry in his day planner that he paid you fifty grand. Then two days after he pays you that type of money he’s found dead. And you’ve got the stones to try to tell me that he hired you for a publicity stunt?”

  “He seems tightly wired, doesn’t he?” I said. Of course, I was talking to Julius through his ear piece and Cramer couldn’t hear me, but it wouldn’t have bothered me if he could. “Probably a good thing that he’s passing on the coffee. Look at how his ears have turned red. Like a fire engine. Maybe you should offer him some warm milk instead? Or maybe chamomile tea?”

  Julius ignored my comments, and patiently waited for Cramer’s outburst to come to an end before explaining the nature of Kingston’s fee. “My client wrote me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. He also included as a gift a rare bottle of wine that in some cases has fetched at auction prices as much as twenty-four thousand dollars.”

  “Okay, so he paid you forty-nine thousand. I want to know why he paid you that!”

  “Are you implying that the money he paid me, as well as the wine that he gifted me, had something to do with his death?”

  “Yeah, I am. Fifty grand sounds like extortion to me, especially when the guy’s dead two days later.”

  Cramer said this straight-faced, although I doubted he believed it. Julius regarded Cramer slowly before shaking his head.

  “You would have a monumental task on your hands if you tried to prove that allegation, even with manufactured evidence,” Julius said. “And besides, if extortion was the motive, then he shouldn’t be dead since he paid me, right? Perhaps if he hadn’t paid me… even still, I think you’d find your conjecture impossible to prove. But it doesn’t matter. As I tried telling you earlier, Kenneth Kingston paid me my fee so that I would help him with a publicity stunt. He has a new book coming out in three weeks and he believed this stunt would get him on the bestseller’s list.”

  Cramer snorted at that. “Fifty grand for a publicity stunt? You expect me to believe that?”

  Julius shrugged. “Believe what you wish. I found the task he was asking me to perform demeaning so I in turn asked for an exorbitant fee as a means to dissuade him. He surprised me by accepting.”

  Cramer was so angry right then that I could almost imagine steam coming out of his fire-engine red ears. He was convinced Julius was lying and was about to call Julius a liar but he choked it off. His voice was low and had a strangled quality to it as he threatened Julius with an obstruction of justice charge.

  “So help me, Katz, if I find out that Kingston hired you for any reason other than what you’re telling me I will see you behind bars if it’s the last thing I do. I know your tricks and I wouldn’t put it past you to hide information about an ongoing murder investigation just so you can grandstand and grab headlines. It’s not going to happen this time, Katz. I swear to God it’s not going to.”

  At least he was no longer accusing Julius of being an extortionist and a murderer. As I mentioned before, Cramer didn’t understand Julius’s motivations at all, which was simply to enjoy his true passions in life while doing the least amount of work he could get away with so he could afford those passions. Julius had no real interest in publicity or newspaper headlines. That came only due to the sensationalized cases that he undertook, and those were the cases he’d end up with only because they were the ones that paid him enough money to support his chosen lifestyle. Although he didn’t show it with his placid countenance, I knew Julius had to be annoyed at Cramer’s belligerence. After all, he invited the man into his home, offered him coffee—and not just any coffee but a special French roast that Julius had ordered and waited months for—and all he’d gotten back so far were accusations and rudeness. When Julius began rubbing his knuckles with his thumb, he left no doubt about how annoyed he was. I was surprised by this outward display on
his part, but I guess he had so little regard for Cramer right then that he saw no reason to hide one of his few tells.

  “So you’ve sworn to God,” Julius remarked dryly. “Do you have any other questions or are we done?”

  Cramer closed his mouth. A hint of cautiousness flashed in his eyes. I don’t know whether he was able to read Julius’s tell, but at some level he realized he had pushed Julius too far. He tried to glower at Julius but couldn’t hold it, and instead looked away.

  “Tell me about this publicity stunt,” Cramer insisted.

  “No.”

  He looked back at Julius, surprised. “What do you mean no?” he asked.

  If I had lips I would’ve smiled. Not necessarily out of any sense of warmth or happiness or good feelings, but I had to admit I enjoyed seeing the look of utter shock on Cramer’s face when Julius said no. It probably wasn’t a smart move on Julius’s part. He reacted peevishly because he was annoyed at Cramer’s boorish behavior, and I knew in the long run it wasn’t going to do him any good, but I still couldn’t help feeling glad that he did it. Maybe more proud than glad, although I couldn’t tell exactly since proud was also a newer sensation for me.

  The coffee had finished brewing. Julius ignored Cramer as he poured himself a cup. He didn’t bother adding cream or sugar—he always drank his coffee black, and he took several leisurely sips before putting his cup down and meeting Cramer’s bewildered stare, Julius’s own eyes hard steel.

  “My client expected a certain level of confidentiality from me when he hired me,” he said. “There was nothing unlawful about what he asked me to do, but since nothing has yet been done regarding this, and since I believe details of his plans could damage his reputation I will not repeat it to you. At least not willingly. If you can find a court that will coerce me to do so, then so be it.”

  I expected a red-faced explosion out of Cramer, but instead his complexion turned a chalky white. He stood there with his mouth clamped shut, an uncertainty clouding his eyes. For several seconds this confused me, but then as if a lightning bolt had struck—or perhaps more precisely, a burst of electrons—I understood. The reason for his earlier bluster and all of his belligerence and combativeness was fear. Whether it was fear of being made to look like a fool or something else, I wasn’t sure, but that’s what it was. And he knew that he had pushed Julius too far earlier, and now I could see a trace of fear in him.

  Finally, Cramer nodded slowly to himself.

  “So you’re going to obstruct a homicide investigation,” he stated stubbornly.

  “If that’s what you think then find a judge who’ll agree with you. For the record, I know nothing about my client’s murder other than what you’ve mentioned. Further, I have no interest in knowing anything about it. Unless you have anything else you’d like to ask, I’d like you to leave my home.”

  Cramer recovered enough of his wits to try again to glare at Julius, but it was a weak effort. He seemed to realize this and he gave it up.

  “Watch yourself, Katz,” he warned, and then he turned to leave. Julius didn’t bother getting up. He stayed seated at his Coraille granite island counter and picked up his coffee cup so he could take several sips. While he did this, his stare shifted away from the homicide detective. I made sure Cramer removed himself from the townhouse without causing any trouble. Once the front door slammed shut behind him, I informed Julius that his guest had left his home.

  “The man’s a fool,” Julius said.

  “Possibly,” I said. “I’m guessing he’s too in awe of your genius to act properly in your presence. Still, though, someone needs to tell him you can catch more flies with honey than with what he’s using, which I have to admit is a little surprising because what he was tossing around usually does attract flies also. Maybe I’ll give him a call later and try to help the poor guy out.”

  Julius made a face at that but didn’t bother to respond.

  “You intimidate him almost to tears. You know that, right?”

  “Bah. That’s his problem.”

  “True,” I said. I hesitated before adding, “I’m surprised he didn’t find Kingston’s copy of his contract with you when they searched his home. If the police had found it, Cramer would’ve known the details of your fee, but it wouldn’t have helped him more than that since I had what you were going to do for Kingston written up as ‘unspecified services’.”

  If Julius found that surprising he didn’t bother mentioning it. I waited a few seconds and when no reply came, I stated the obvious.

  “You realize also he doesn’t know yet about your little gathering here today?” I said.

  Julius frowned at that. “That’s his problem. He can talk to Kingston’s widow or any of the others to find out what was said and done here.”

  “Agreed,” I said, “but it’s not going to change the way he’s going to react. He backed down today because he knew he’d been acting like a horse’s ass, but once he hears that you held that meeting and didn’t tell him about it, he’s going to be furious. And he’s also going to be feeling justified in how he acted here since that will be confirming, at least in his mind, everything that he’s been suspecting about you. That you’ve willfully been hiding information from him.”

  Julius waved his hand in an eh type gesture, as if he didn’t care about any of that. “You’re right, of course,” he said, “but so what. I have no interest in Kingston’s murder and I have no interest in being involved, not even to spite him.” Julius smiled thinly. It was a strained smile as he was still recovering from Cramer’s extreme boorishness. “Archie, I am impressed that you are able to show this level of insight into Detective Cramer’s psyche.”

  “Eh, it was easy,” I said. I wish I had a hand so I could’ve waved it to show the same gesture Julius had. “Your including a complete collection of Nero Wolfe books in building my experience base had a lot to do with it. It made it a piece of cake.”

  Julius smiled as he thought about that, then picked up from his desk his collection of writings from Thomas Jefferson, and apparently from his absorbed expression, was able to quickly put Kingston’s murder out of his mind. I didn’t bother pestering him about it then. It wouldn’t have done any good. For now he was going to be stubborn, but I was sure that he knew as well as I did that he was going to have to be the one to solve Kingston’s murder. It didn’t matter whether or not he felt any moral obligation. By tomorrow, or maybe the day after that, it would be too obvious for him to ignore no matter how stubborn and lazy he insisted on being.

  Chapter 6

  At a quarter to six that evening Lily called Julius from London. She was the only person besides Julius who knew what I was, and whenever she called him it was always on his private line so I wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop. That was fine. I could understand her desire for privacy, and besides, it didn’t do my logic modeling center any good listening to their phone calls, especially when she was traveling and the two of them were pining away for each other and sounding like moonstruck lovers. While Julius was engaged in talking with her, I called Henry Zack and filled him in on what had been going on, particularly the trouble I was expecting once Cramer learned about the meeting Julius held in his office with Kingston’s list of six suspects. Henry was Julius’s attorney, and Julius had him on twenty-four hour call for emergencies, and I was expecting an emergency any minute. I gave Henry most of the story, although I left out Julius’s suspicions regarding Kingston and his putting a twenty-four hour watch on him. When I was done I heard Henry sighing on his end.

  “Legally Julius doesn’t have to volunteer to the police why Kenneth Kingston hired him, nor about the gathering he held, but it probably would’ve been better if he had done so. Do you know why he didn’t?”

  “Partly because of Cramer irritating him, mostly because he was being stubborn.”

  I knew there was another reason too, a reason that overshadowed the ones I gave Henry. Julius didn’t want to give Cramer any suspicions that he felt Kingston had othe
r motives for hiring him, and worse, that he believed his client’s life had been in danger.

  “What does Julius want me to do?” Henry asked.

  “He doesn’t want you to do anything. He doesn’t even know I’m calling you. But I’m sure Cramer will be looking to cart Julius away to jail in handcuffs once he finds out about Julius’s gathering today. And if Cramer tries doing that, knowing Julius, he’ll break Cramer’s wrist the second the guy attempts to put his hands on him, which will end up with Julius heading to prison and me out of a job.”

  “That’s probably what will happen,” Henry agreed. “Call me at the first sign of trouble, okay? Which means as soon as that officer shows up at Julius’s doorstep. Thanks for the heads-up, Archie.”

  When I finished my call with Henry, Julius and Lily were still talking as young lovers usually do, although Julius at forty-two no longer qualified as young, but Lily was only twenty-nine so I gave them the benefit of the doubt. I knew about how young lovers acted because when Julius first met Lily his behavior towards her baffled me to no end, as did hers towards him. The way he acted with her didn’t fit his previous patterns with women. At first I tried without any success to explain this anomaly in his behavior through mathematical models. Eventually I decided to go at it from a different angle and search for similar patterns in literature. After analyzing the text of a Jane Austen novel I was pretty sure I had it figured out, and after analyzing more of these novels I was left with no doubt that I had this mystery solved.

  After getting off the line with Henry, I tried not listening in on Julius and Lily but I couldn’t help hearing the end of their conversation, at least from what Julius was saying, to have a good idea of what Lily was saying to him: that she didn’t want him moping around at home that evening and that she’d feel better knowing that he was out among people at one of his favorite restaurants. With or without her phone call, there wasn’t any chance Julius was going to be spending the evening at home, not with him being flush with cash, and even better as far as he was concerned, feeling as if he had no further responsibilities to earn this money. When he got off the phone with her, I asked him if he wanted me to make reservations for him at Le Che Cru.