“What’re you writing down?” Tamar asked.
“Those are the start and stop time stamps—for when I take breaks from watching.”
Tamar studied the piece of paper as if there was something interesting about it. “Wow, you really watched for eight hours straight? I didn’t realize you had such a strong work ethic,” she said with a teasing smile.
“What?”
“According to what you wrote…or else you have an eight-hour gap.”
“That’s insane. At most, I watch an hour then quit for a while.” I took the piece of paper and she pointed to the start time of 23:15:41 on Saturday evening with an end time of 07:51:26 Sunday morning. “Holy shit,” I said. “Someone shut off the surveillance system then turned it back on again. Kessler could’ve snuck in and out without being recorded.”
“Who’s Kessler?”
“The guy who was renting from Jackie Whitney. He paid in cash and they got into a dispute over allegedly unpaid rent. He said he’d moved out of the apartment by the time Jackie Whitney came back from Palm Springs, and never returned.”
“Who has access to the surveillance system?”
“I don’t know. I wonder if the guy working the graveyard shift turned it off by accident. He’s in his eighties.”
“You know, the city has video cameras all over. Check out the lampposts and trees and telephone poles. Cameras are everywhere.”
I stared at Tamar. “There could be footage somewhere of Kessler entering and leaving the building.”
We talked awhile longer until her repeated yawns and heavy eyelids once again demanded that the baker’s timetable be honored.
Chapter 20
As expected, I woke up with only the memory of a beautiful woman having shared my bed.
“What can you tell me about the city’s video surveillance program?” I asked Kalijero over the phone.
“Just look around. They’re watching. It’s called Operation Virtual Shield. Everything’s computerized and politicized. Not just high crime areas. If you’re rich enough, you can get cameras on your street so you’ll feel safer.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. How can I look at footage?”
“It’s controlled by the Office of Emergency Management and Communications. I wouldn’t bother. They don’t respond quickly to inquiries. And they’re sure as hell not going to trust a private eye.”
“But this has to do with a murder case.”
“Then get the state’s attorney to request the video.”
I couldn’t help but sigh loudly. The thought of talking the state into obtaining video they could easily say wasn’t relevant hurt my brain. The ACLU had been on the city’s case about not tracking individuals unless the evidence was compelling. I was just looking for probable cause, after all.
“I got another dead body,” I said.
“I heard the chatter on the police radio. That’s your stiff?”
“Old friend of Jackie Whitney’s. On your police radio? Is that what retired cops do? Sit around listening to the police radio?”
“Shut up. It’s background noise. Keeps me company.”
“Well, since you’re keeping score at home, how about some insight? The dead woman, Linda Napier, was killed the same way as Jackie Whitney. And she was dating the renter, a Dr. Kessler, the guy I’m trying to find on surveillance video. The police already questioned Kessler and let him go. But Brookstone still has a hard-on for him.”
“Have you questioned Kessler about the new corpse?”
“I want to see the surveillance video first.”
“Why? Just tell him you saw him in it. See if he’ll call your bluff. You’ll know right away if the guy is full of shit or not.”
I knew there was a good reason to keep a guy like Kalijero interested in police work. He couldn’t help but school a guy like me when I needed to learn something that, in retrospect, was ridiculously simple.
—
The door to Dr. Kessler’s office was partly open. I knocked and stepped inside. He sat at his desk leaning on his elbows, head cradled in his hands.
“Sorry to bother you—”
Kessler looked up. “I already spoke to the cops! What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
“I gave them the truth. I don’t know anything about what happened to Linda.”
“What about Jackie?”
“I told you what I know about Jackie. Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” The doctor returned his head to his hands. I watched him stew in his own misery juice for a solid minute before he looked up again and said, “You’re still here. I thought maybe this was all a bad dream.”
“Did you know Chicago is the most camera-surveilled city in the country? Everywhere you go there are cameras.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“All those rich folks on East Lake Shore Drive? They like being watched. It makes them feel safe. It didn’t help Jackie, but it might help us catch her killer.”
Kessler looked sick. “Just say what you mean already.”
“I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think very carefully about how you’re going to answer it. Did you go to Jackie Whitney’s apartment between eleven P.M. on Saturday, May sixteenth, and five-thirty A.M. Sunday, May seventeenth?”
He licked his lips, swallowed hard. “You mean a camera saw someone who looked like me in the lobby?” he said.
I leaned forward. “I’m saying there are cameras outside the building, trained on the entrance.”
His dread was palpable. “Close the door, please,” he said.
I did as told. When I turned around Kessler was standing in front of his desk. “I swear to you I didn’t kill her,” he said, hands clasped at his chest, forehead shiny with sweat.
“Did you go back to her building?”
“Yes. Around two A.M. Sunday morning, the seventeenth. But just to get a few things I forgot to pack.”
“How did you get past the doorman?”
“He escorted me up to the apartment. He was with me the whole time.”
“That’s nuts. A doorman would never do that.”
“It’s true! I was desperate. I told him I had a key and that one way or another, I was going up there.”
“I thought you gave the key back when you moved out.”
“I made a duplicate.”
I let his words simmer awhile before I said, “Why the hell would you do that?”
“The fact that Jackie didn’t believe me when I said Kate was stealing my rent pissed me off. And I was afraid she might get a lawyer and come after me for the six months of rent she’d say I owed, since our agreement was that I’d stay through September. Then I’d have to pay for a lawyer and deal with all that crap. I thought having a key would give me leverage, just in case Jackie tried to do something like that.”
“You planned to steal something valuable as leverage? Do you keep an appraiser on retainer?”
“There was a statue. Lalique. I know that name.”
“And then you slinked in to get things you forgot to pack.”
Kessler looked away then back to me. “Drinking makes me stupid,” he said. “I had a key. I imagined Jackie sound asleep. I knew exactly where my stuff was. All I had to do was sneak in and sneak out. It would’ve been easy.”
“Was it easy?”
“Yes. Her bedroom door was closed. I tiptoed into the guest room, found my stuff, tiptoed out. That was it. That doorman witnessed my every move.”
It was hard for me to picture an old guy like Marv going along with this, but I let it go. “Did you notice anything strange about the place?”
“What could I notice? I walked from the door to the guest room. All I saw was the hallway and the kitchen. And it was dark.”
“Why didn’t you speak up earlier?”
“And give the cops a reason to suspect me? I told them I was out for good on the fifteenth. If I said I had gone back, my God, you would’ve placed me in the a
partment around the time of the murder! But I didn’t touch her! I swear to you, Detective Landau, you’ve got to believe me.” Kessler dropped to his knees, sobbed. I didn’t feel sorry for him.
“C’mon,” I said. “Keep it together. What did you go back for? What was so important that it couldn’t wait until people are typically awake?”
Kessler slowly climbed back to his feet. “Personal items. Very personal.”
“Dude! You’re gonna need to do better than that. Convince me, damn it! You don’t seem like the murdering type, but prove your case a little stronger, please.”
Kessler stared at the floor. “I had left some things that men use—some men use.”
“Use for what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t know anything. Use for what?”
“For pleasure! You know what I mean!”
“Things some men use for pleasure. What the fuck are you talking about? Dirty magazines?”
Kessler lowered his voice. “Prostate massaging devices.”
I knew where the prostate gland was located, and I knew of only one route to get there. “Things you stick up your ass?”
“Fuck you.”
“You went back to fetch some kind of vibrating devices and such. You and Jackie were not on friendly terms, so you wanted to sneak them out without Jackie knowing because of the potential embarrassment if she found them. I don’t blame you. I would’ve done the same thing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”
“Listen to me. You’re exactly what Kate McCall’s lawyer was looking for. Expect to get subpoenaed. Hopefully, you won’t have to talk about prostate massaging devices on the stand, but I can’t promise. Anything else I should know?”
Kessler pretended to think about it. Then he said, “I wasn’t alone that night.”
“Someone else besides the doorman?”
“Linda Napier.”
“Why was she there?”
“I asked her to come, in case Jackie confronted me. She was doing me a favor.”
“So Marv the doorman, you, and Linda went to Jackie’s apartment together. You think Linda snuck into Jackie’s bedroom and killed her while you were retrieving your toys?”
“What? No! Linda met me in the lobby that night. She said there was no doorman or any other security present when she got there. Then the elevator door opens and out walks the doorman. He looked troubled, she said. And his posture was kind of weird, like he was trying to hide something under his jacket.”
Kessler’s words sobered me. He had no reason to make this up. “Finish my sentence. You’re suggesting Marv—”
“He’s as much a potential suspect as I am.”
“He’ll say he works for the building.”
“Where was he coming from when Linda saw him get off the elevator?”
Kessler had a point. Debbie wanted reasonable doubt, now she had two people for a jury to buy.
Chapter 21
I returned to West Lincoln Park and strolled the blocks adjacent to Furry BFF hoping to see Phillip by himself or leading a patrol of dog walkers. After a while, it occurred to me that his duties probably included sitting in an office being an administrator. Ignoring the woman at reception, I walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor offices and was met by the same young man I had met on my first visit.
“Looking for Lucille?” he said.
“Phillip.”
He pointed to his office. I walked to the doorway and saw Phillip standing in front of a large shepherd mix sitting attentively, transfixed by Phillip’s closed hand that undoubtedly held treats. A female volunteer in a green smock watched.
“Skipper, twirl,” Phillip said. Skipper bolted to his feet then turned a tight three hundred and sixty degrees. After giving Skipper a treat Phillip said, “Skipper, where’s your nose?” Skipper lifted his right paw high enough to graze his muzzle and was promptly treated. Then Phillip said, “Skipper, take a bow,” and the dog lowered its chest and head almost to the ground while keeping its rear end up. Treats, praise, and laughter from all three of us ensued. Phillip seemed not to mind my unannounced presence. After the volunteer took Skipper out of the room, Phillip sat down behind his desk. “What’s up?” he said, as if he had not a care in the world.
“I’m sorry about Linda Napier,” I said. “I know she was an old friend.”
“Didn’t really know her. She was around when I was a little kid, but it was only recently that I met her as an adult. Was this related to my mom?”
“I’m not sure. Did your mom ever talk about Linda using drugs?”
“Never. She would not have wanted me to know that about Linda. You still think Kate McCall is innocent?”
“I do. But listen, do you remember your mom dating a guy named Henry DeWeldt?”
“Dating? I don’t know if they were dating. I told you she wouldn’t admit to being in that kind of a relationship. I mean, she liked the company of guys like Henry DeWeldt. Rich. Smart. But just as companions to go to some fancy event.”
“Okay, but whether friend or lover, he was in the picture for an extended period of time, right?”
“True.”
“Was there anything that occurred between them recently? Something that made her angry or changed the way she felt about being associated with him?”
Phillip thought about it. “Well, before she left for Palm Springs, I remember asking how Henry was and she said she hadn’t seen him in a while. When I asked her why, she just shrugged and said it didn’t matter.”
“DeWeldt told me he was in charge of her estate. Was that true?”
“Is this man bothering you, Phillip?” Lucille said, walking into the room, trying to sound only half-serious.
I said, “How long have you been sniffing around out there, Lucille?”
“We’re just talking,” Phillip said.
Lucille stood over Phillip. “You really shouldn’t discuss your family’s personal financial information, Phillip. It’s nobody’s business.”
I locked eyes with Lucille and then turned back to Phillip. “You’ve heard of people taking advantage of the elderly and their money? I have reason to believe Henry DeWeldt is one of those scumbags. I’m wondering if your mom found this out too.”
“Confidentiality is very important, Phillip. If you have personal information on a donor, you need to keep that to yourself. Henry DeWeldt is a very important philanthropist. If someone found out Furry BFF is saying bad things about him, we could lose a lot of money.”
“What if the rumors are true and involve murder?” I said.
“Oh, my God, will you stop?” Lucille said. “He thinks Henry had something to do with your mother’s death.”
“Think about it, Phillip,” I said. “What if your mom knew something about Henry that was so vile it could ruin him?”
“Don’t listen to him,” Lucille said. She closed the door then said, “The woman the police arrested is guilty! That’s why they arrested her. They have evidence. That’s when they arrest people!”
Phillip sat quietly under Lucille’s glare. She reminded me of an irate mother berating her son.
Lucille stepped toward me. “And you said yourself that Henry had complaints filed against his firm. So there’s no news here.”
“That information is hidden away,” I said. “I had to look for it. Maybe Jackie was going to make something public. She had a lot of connections.”
“Phillip, you’re not listening to this nonsense, I hope. Remember what I said about confidentiality.”
“Relax, Lucille,” Phillip said. “I’m old enough to know what nonsense looks like.”
Phillip held his gaze on Lucille long enough to suggest there was something between the lines that required reading. I dropped another card on his desk and left. Another chat with Manny needed to occur, but first I wanted to consult the “eyes and ears” of Jackie Whitney’s building.
Chapter 22
W
hile I was on my way to the Senior Tricks bridge club, Phillip called. “I need to talk to you privately,” he said but wouldn’t elaborate. We arranged to meet at my office in two hours. Lois Goldman, the director of the bridge club, recognized me from two days earlier.
“How are you, Mr. Landau? How goes the investigation?”
“Slowly but surely.”
“And how’s your father?”
“He stopped seeing snakes but still insists they’re real.” Lois nodded knowingly. “We were having a nice conversation, which pleasantly surprised me, then boom. He was in another world.”
“Yes, unfortunately that’s the pattern. What can I do for you today?”
“I’d like to speak to Gloria when she’s available.”
Lois led me into the bridge room. Gloria stood at a table where three others sat. “I think you’re in luck,” Lois said. “Gloria is the dummy. Her cards are all on the table to be played by her partner.”
Lois walked to Gloria and whispered in her ear. Gloria turned to me and waved as if we were old friends. She started to walk over when her partner said, “Don’t go too far!”
“Oh, you’ll do fine,” Gloria said and continued toward me. “You’re that friend of Manny’s, aren’t you?” Gloria said. “The one who loves cats.”
“Yes, that’s me. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Jackie Whitney?”
Gloria’s smile vanished. She kind of shivered and said, “Ooh, I don’t know if you want my opinion. I hated that woman. The way she treated Manny was disgraceful.”
The bitterness from that sweet, elderly face slammed into me. Linda Napier’s depiction of Manny’s maltreatment was no longer dubious.
“Jackie was mean to Manny?”
“Heavens, yes! She ordered him around as if he was her personal slave. Right out in the open, in front of anyone who happened to be there. ‘Manny, get me my cab; Manny, carry in my groceries; Manny, don’t slouch; Manny, you don’t look respectful around people; Manny, you don’t act appreciative enough; Manny, you want to be a schlep your whole life?’ ”
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