Murder She Typed

by Sylvia Selfman

  “Your cat!” Merv brought his fist down hard on the table. Not only did everyone stop eating and stare at us but my plate jumped at least three inches into the air. Thank goodness it landed, steak intact, back on the table.

  “You still have that damn cat?” Merv’s face flushed a bright red. I wondered if he was about to have a stroke. “I thought you got rid of him.”

  “Why would you think that?” I said calmly. “I never said I was getting rid of him.”

  Merv was back on my list of suspects.

  If the conversation on the drive to the restaurant had been strained, the conversation driving back to my condo was practically non-existent.

  Merv acted like he was doing me a favor when he walked me to the door and gave me a perfunctory kiss. Turning to leave, he said, “It’s me or that cat, Izzy. Your choice.”

  “Okay,” I said, locking the door behind me. “Poor Sherlock,” I cooed as I scooped him into my arms, “Merv doesn’t like you.”

  Still holding onto Sherlock, I dialed Flo who didn’t pick up. So much for her concern about my safety. “I’m home safe and sound,” I announced to her answering machine. “Just to let you know, I looked so good Merv’s testosterone level went over the top. But unfortunately I took your advice and stayed celibate.”

  I was too wide awake to go to bed so I poured myself a glass of wine. I carried it and my laptop into the living room and made myself comfortable on the couch. It was driving me crazy not knowing who I could trust and who I couldn’t. It was also putting a big crimp in my social life. I needed to figure out once and for all which of the men had a sister. Then I would proceed from there.

  I decided I would go about it methodically.

  I’d start alphabetically and look up each of the men on the internet. Nate Braunstein, Frank Fields, Danny Markowitz. I’d also check out Merv to see if he was telling the truth about having only a brother.

  After a few minutes research I found out there were at least sixty–five Nate Braunstein’s. Five of whom were dentists. Only one had a Palm Springs address, however. His wife, Yettah, was listed along with three children. No malpractice issues and no mention of having a sibling.

  I typed in Frank Fields. The only one listed in Palm Springs was a Franklin Fields. Wife, Margot, died ten years before. There was no mention of children. I continued to an ancestry website and found the names of his parents, Helen and Phillip, and that he had one sibling. A brother, Henderson.

  Danny Markowitz was next. Two marriages and two divorces. Nothing about either a sister––or a brother but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

  As for Merv, it seemed he’d told the truth about having a brother. I found a small item stating that he and his younger brother, Milt, had co-owned a business that produced x-rays. There was nothing about his having a sister.

  Unfortunately I wasn’t much further along in finding Sondra’s brother than before. But at least taking action calmed me down to the point that I could finally go to sleep.

  Chapter 37

  Sherlock awakened me the next morning by jumping on my bed and meowing his head off. And no wonder. It was forty minutes past his usual breakfast time. “A few more minutes,” I said, giving him a shove with my foot off the bed.

  I dished out Sherlock’s breakfast, reviewing what I’d learned about my cast of suspects. Unfortunately not enough. I’d been led to believe one could find everything about everybody on the computer. Either I wasn’t going about it in the right way or the internet wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  It seemed the only ones I could definitely cross off my list were Frank and Merv, neither of whom had a sister. I still needed to find more info about Nate and Danny.

  I had to admit I was relieved that Frank didn’t have a sister since I’d made a date with him to help me with my story. I decided to pay him back by treating him to dinner at the club’s dining room. With luck maybe I could entice him into writing the story for me.

  Since Flo had made me promise that I wouldn’t be alone with any of the men, I called Frank to tell him that I’d meet him at the clubhouse. “It’s much easier to find than my condo,” I lied.

  He was waiting for me at the entrance to the Admiral Dining Room.

  “You do know I wanted to take you out to dinner,” Frank said.

  “Another time,” I said. “I so rarely eat here and this is a good excuse.”

  During dinner, Frank seemed to be almost the opposite of how he appeared in the writing group. He’d always seemed so serious and focused on his writing. He never cracked jokes like the others in the group or joined in the usual banter. But as he sat across from me at dinner, describing the other members of the group, he had me laughing so hard I told him he’d better stop or I’d pee my pants. “I’d hate to hear what you’d say about me in private,” I laughed.

  “Would you like to know?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you anyway. I think you underrate yourself. I’ve told you before, you’re a talented writer but you’re not willing to take chances.”

  “Whatever that means,” I laughed. It was probably the wine but I was feeling surprisingly relaxed and comfortable with him. In fact, if I was being honest with myself, it might even be more than that. I was finding myself attracted to him. He was good-looking and certainly smart. An according to what I’d found online, he only had a brother.

  I felt myself growing flushed as I studied Frank across the table.

  He looked up from his plate at just that moment and our eyes met. I felt a jolt as I realized he felt the same way.

  Then I reminded myself of Flo’s warning not to cross anyone off the list of suspects until I was a hundred percent certain of his innocence.

  “Frank, did you ever have a sister?” I blurted out.

  “Where did that question come from?” he laughed. “Only a brother. Unfortunately.”

  “Unfortunately?”

  Frank shook his head. “I guess you never had a sibling of the same sex. There’s a closeness but, at the same time, a competitiveness. It’s what one would describe as a love hate relationship.”

  “In other words they’re a pain in the ass,” I said.

  Frank laughed. “It sounds like you have a sister.

  “Yes. Eudora. And she made my life pure misery when I was growing up. But don’t get the wrong idea, I still love her.”

  “You hit the nail on the head,” he said. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

  “Frank,” I said, “I know I need your help with my writing but there’s something even more important that I need right now.”

  “And that is?”

  “I need someone I can trust.”

  He looked confused for a moment then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

  “Remember Sondra Sockerman who came to our writing group that one time?

  “You’re kidding, how could anyone forget her?”

  Et tu, Frank?

  “She certainly puts it all out there,” he said. “Though she’s not my type.”

  I described what happened on the hiking trail. Told him about Sondra’s manuscript, and how my house had been broken into. I told him I suspected all of the men in the writing group, including him, and that I’d looked everyone up on the internet.

  When I finished Frank leaned back in his seat and looked at me. “I don’t know what to say about all this,” he said, “other than you need to go to the police.”

  “Believe me, I tried that already. They didn’t believe me and implied that I was nuts.”

  “So what can I do?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answered.

  *************************

  “So, how’d your date go?” Flo asked.

  I looked over at the clock on the nightstand. Seven o’clock––in the morning. “You couldn’t wait till nine to call?”

  “Don’t yell at me. I told you to check in when you got home from your date. Did I get a call from you? No. Did
it cross my mind that you might have been murdered? Yes. It’s a wonder I was able to fall asleep from worrying…”

  “Frank’s very interesting,” I interrupted.

  “Interesting. What the hell is interesting? Sexy is interesting. Sexy and rich, even more interesting. I’d give my eyeteeth for that.”

  “He’s smart, sexy, doesn’t have a sister and he’s going to help me.”

  “You confided in him? You’re hopeless,” Flo sighed.

  “I think you’re jealous. It happens Frank and I worked out a plan over our expressos and chocolate cheesecake. Cheesecake which he insisted I have, by the way—he said he couldn’t imagine why I would want to lose a single pound. “

  Yeah, right,” she said sarcastically. “He probably thought ten pounds would be more like it. So what’s the plan? Or maybe you just want to keep it between the two of you.”

  “It’s pure genius. I’m going to take pictures of the men in the writing group. Then I’ll email them to that dentist, Dr. Jorgenson.

  I rolled out of bed and headed to the kitchen for coffee and whatever else I could find that was edible. “Can you explain why it is that the more you eat the night before the hungrier you are the next morning?”

  “You’re digressing again, Izzy.”

  “Anyway once Dr. Jorgenson identifies one of the men as Sondra’s brother I’ll pay a visit to Officer Martinelli and he can take it from there. Officer Martinelli will soon be begging me to forgive him for not taking me seriously. He’ll be groveling at my feet. So what do you think?”

  “I think you should get a pedicure. In the meantime how about walking to Starbucks this morning? It’s been a while since we’ve done any exercise.”

  “Not this morning. I have to come up with a one pager for this afternoon’s writing group. Dr. Linda’s planning to send our stories off to the printer after class.”

  “Now it’s a one pager? Two pages is too much for you to handle?”

  “I also have to make preparations to implement our plan.”

  “La de da, our plan,” she said.

  “I knew it. You are jealous of my relationship with Frank.” I waited for Flo to respond. When she didn’t I said, “Flo, you still there?”

  But she had hung up.

  After I fed Sherlock I sat down at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee and my cell phone. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d used it to take pictures. While I tried to figure out how it worked, I accidentally snapped a picture of myself. Good God, was this how I looked? Too many pixels or was it not enough?

  When I finally felt I was getting the hang of the camera, I commanded Sherlock to ‘say cheese.’ When he didn’t respond I amended it to ‘Okay–– say mouse.’ Sherlock lifted his head out of his bowl and gave me a cynical stare. “You never looked better, Sherlock,” I said, snapping his picture.

  All I needed now was to come up with a one pager for the book Dr. Linda was planning to publish.

  Frank had suggested at dinner that I write about a pet. I told him the only pet I had as a kid was Squiggy the hamster who had managed to escape his cage when my mother was cleaning my room. Unfortunately on our hunt for Squiggy I accidentally stepped on him, crushing him to death. We had a lovely funeral––Cuban cigar box casket, dandelions, the whole deal––followed by dinner at my favorite restaurant. Not only was I allowed to order anything I wanted on the menu but I could have two desserts. It had seemed back then like a fair exchange to make up for the loss of Squiggy though I still think of him now and then and hope he knows I didn’t kill him on purpose.

  I was so into writing The Very Short Life of Squiggy, that I lost track of time. I had only half an hour to get ready for writing group

  .

  Chapter 38

  Dr. Linda rapped on the desk. “Listen up everyone. Now that Izzy’s finally turned in her short story we can go to print. Hopefully the book will be ready in time for our party. As you all know, Frank has kindly offered the use of his home. So everyone please sign up for the dish you’re planning to bring.”

  “Ha, I’d like to bring a dish all right. One that’s 42-24-36,” Danny said.

  “That’s one big tuna,” Nate snorted. “What makes you think you could handle that?”

  Figuring Dr. Linda would appreciate a diversion from the male posturing, I decided now was the time to strike. “I brought my camera to take pictures of everyone for our book party. Frank has offered to get them enlarged to put on display at our party.”

  “No way are you taking my picture,” Yettah grumbled. “I didn’t get to the beauty parlor this week and besides you didn’t give us any warning.”

  “Right,” Minna echoed. “ You should have given us notice. I’d have had my makeup and hair done. If you want to know what I think, I think Izzy wants us to look bad so she’ll look better.”

  Frank looked at me and winked. Then obviously realizing I was about to say something I might regret, he stepped in to defuse the situation. “Ladies, ladies,” he said, “you all look terrific just the way you are. So youthful and vibrant. Why I’d never in a million years have imagined that Minna and Yettah had grandchildren.”

  Like magic Frank had soothed the wild beasts, in a manner of speaking.

  I could see the men were growing restless and I feared they might back out if I didn’t get on with the picture taking.

  “I’ll start with the guys,” I said. “That’ll give the ladies time to put on more makeup, fix their hair, adjust their corsets, go on a diet or whatever…“

  “That’s enough, Izzy.” Frank whispered. “Stop while you’re ahead.” He picked up a chair and placed it in front of the white wall. “Who wants to go first?” he asked.

  Frank and I had bet that it would be Danny. We were right.

  “Thanks,” I said to Frank as we walked together out of the room. “You were a lifesaver with Yettah and Minna. If you weren’t there I’d probably have torpedoed the plan––and them as well.

  “No big deal. I was glad to help. Besides you’re going to pay me back by helping me set up for the party.”

  “Just let me know how I can help. In the meantime I’ll email the photos of the guys to Dr. Jorgenson,” I said. “Though I wonder if he’ll take the time to look at them.”

  “Hey guys, wait up!” Danny said, walking towards us. Trailed by the rest of the gang, he hurried to catch up. “My picture came out really good, don’t you think?”

  “I thought so,” I answered. “But then look at the great material I had to work with.” I hoped the compliment might make up for my earlier irritability.

  “Yeah. So maybe you can explain why the woman I met on a cruise last spring called me last week to invite me to her home in Chicago. Then she called two days later to cancel, saying she just got engaged to someone else?”

  “You’re kidding! What a louse!” Yettah said.

  “Buck up, old man.” Nate slapped him on the back. “What you need to do is get right back on the horse.”

  There was a chorus of, ‘amens’ and ‘I’d like to give that bitch a piece of my mind,’ and ‘she should rot in hell.’

  Minna looked Danny over. “You’re free? You’re not involved with anyone?” Her voice full of hopeful excitement.

  Minna clearly had her sights set on Danny. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she asked him to open his mouth so she could check his teeth.

  “You need to start dating right away,” Nate said. “You shouldn’t waste another minute thinking about that woman. She’s not worth the salt she’s walking on…uh, something like that.”

  “I have someone for you,” I piped up. Everyone turned to look at me, including Frank who gave me a quizzical look.

  “Flo,” I said. “My friend, Flo, broke up with her boy friend six months ago and vowed she was never going to date again. It’s time she got over it. You can be her first date.”

  “Is she anything like you?” he asked.

  I decided it was better not to go down that road. “
Better,” I answered. “Let’s make it simple. You come to my place tomorrow afternoon around three o’clock and pretend to drop something off. I’ll make sure Flo’s there and introduce you two. Then you suggest we all go together to the FroYoToGo Shop. That way there’s no pressure on either of you. If you two don’t hit it off we’ll still get to enjoy our yogurt. It’s a win-win.”

  No one spoke, awaiting Danny’s answer. Especially Minna who was shooting me the evil eye. I had obviously interfered with her plan to snare Danny for herself. I figured it was a free country and if Danny wanted to go out with Minna I wasn’t stopping him. My first loyalty was to Flo. Now that I was becoming more involved with Frank, Flo had to be feeling left out, which would explain her testiness. This was the least I could do for her. Assuming Danny wasn’t the killer, of course.

  “Okay.” Danny nodded. “It’s a go.”

  “Perfect,” I said.

  As Frank and I walked toward my car, I slipped my arm through his.

  “You’ve certainly been a busy beaver today,” Frank smiled at me appreciatively. “Playing detective and cupid. All in one day.”

  “I figure it’ll be good for Danny. And as for Flo, well, we’ll have to wait and see. Of course she shouldn’t be alone with him until we figure out which one of the guys is Sondra’s brother.”

  Frank opened the car door and I slid into the driver’s seat. “By the way,” Frank said handing me my seat belt, “what if that Dr. Jorgenson doesn’t get back to you about the pictures? What will you do then?”

  “Never fear. I intend to stay on this case. I could always go in for x-rays like he suggested.”

  “You know what, Izzy? I like the way you think.”

  “You know what, Frank?” I smiled gratefully at him. “You’re possibly the first person that ever said that. Maybe the second since I’m sure my husband felt that way but didn’t dare say it. He wouldn’t have wanted to encourage me.”

  “You’ll go out with me again, Izzy? My treat this time.”