A Time For Us (Michael Kaplan Mysteries)

by David W. Cowles

  Reluctantly, Myra stepped inside the apartment. Lois closed the door and turned the deadbolt. “Please sit down. I’ll be right back,” she instructed. Myra noticed Lois’s pain had apparently subsided. The woman spryly ran to the bedroom and came back bearing a box made of yellow oak. When Lois opened the lid, Myra saw a chrome-plated revolver. Lois removed the weapon from the box. “Isn’t this a lovely gun?” she asked, pointing it at Myra. Lois’s face twisted into a diabolical smirk. “Rick gave me many useful gifts, including the stiletto I killed him with.”

  Myra panicked. Lois was blocking the door and pointing a firearm at her. Lois just admitted killing Rick Lacey. Mark Caruso had said the same person who killed Lacey was undoubtedly the Sliced Nipples serial killer. Mark warned Myra she might be the killer’s next intended victim, and now it appeared certain Mark had been correct.

  “In case you’re wondering,” Lois leered, “this pistol is loaded—and I do know how to use a gun. Just ask Jeff Herbert’s wife. She’ll tell you.”

  “You—you killed all those people, didn’t you?” Myra accused. “Cicily Purdue, Jeff Herbert, Nellie Sherman, and Patti Ho, as well as Rick Lacey.”

  “Yes. Of course I did,” Lois bragged. “The stupid cops think there’s a demented serial killer running amok in Las Vegas. But there isn’t. I killed them all. I had my reasons for offing each and every one of them, including Rick. Especially Rick.”

  “Why me?” Myra asked. “What have I ever done to you?”

  Lois scowled. “You’re a pimple on a boil. You were getting too close to finding out about my meeting with Cicily. If you knew what Cicily told me, you’d also know why I killed her. After Rick said your husband went to Jeff Herbert’s house, I knew I had to get rid of Jeff, too.”

  “Lois, that’s crazy. There was no need for you to lie about meeting with Cicily. No one would know what you and she discussed unless you chose to tell them.”

  “Don’t call me crazy!” Lois bellowed. In an instant, she was on top of Myra and slammed the butt of the revolver down on Myra’s head. Myra slumped to the floor, unconscious. Lois, exhibiting remarkable strength, lifted Myra up and positioned her in a wooden straight-back chair. She methodically tied Myra to the chair—her arms behind her back, her legs secured to the rungs.

  But Lois was not ready to kill Myra. Not yet.

  MORGAN ANSWERED THE PHONE without bothering to pause the tape she and Mark Caruso were scanning at double speed. “Surveillance. This is Morgan Penny.”

  “Morgan, I’m glad I was able to reach you. This is Lois Lewis.”

  “What can I do for you, Lois?”

  “I wasn’t feeling well and your friend Myra graciously offered to drive me home. That’s where I am now. But Myra’s had a little accident. She slipped and fell and twisted her ankle. She’s soaking it in my bathtub right now. Myra asked me to call you for her, since my phone cord doesn’t stretch into the bathroom. She doesn’t feel she’ll be able to drive and wants you to come get her.”

  “I’ll be right there, Lois. Where do you live?” Morgan hurriedly wrote Lois’s address on a notepad. She tore off the top slip of paper, folded it, and put it in her pocket. Then Morgan pressed the pause button on the VCR.

  “Mark, I’m going to have to leave. Myra’s had an accident. Nothing serious, she just twisted her ankle. She’s at Lois Lewis’s apartment. I’ll take a cab there and drive Myra to the clinic for an X-ray. Tony can continue reviewing the surveillance tapes with you. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah. Go ahead, Morgan. Thanks for your help. Call me later and let me know how Myra’s doing, will you?”

  “Yes. Of course I will.”

  Morgan grabbed her jacket and purse, then ran to the casino main entrance and hailed a taxi.

  LOIS’S NEXT PHONE CALL was to the Las Vegas Times.

  “This is Michael Kaplan,” he answered. “How can I help you?”

  “Michael, this is Lois Lewis. I’m manager of the Human Resources department at Blue Hawaii. Perhaps Myra has mentioned my name.”

  Michael signaled Kimberly. She picked up the telephone and listened in on the extension. “Yes, she did. I know who you are, Lois. Is something wrong? Did anything happen to Myra?”

  Lois laughed. “No, nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything is absolutely perfect, Michael. That is, things will be perfect if you have a passport. Do you?”

  “Yes, of course. Most everyone has a passport these days. Why did you ask me that, Lois?”

  “You’re going to take a little airplane trip. With me. To South America.”

  “Why on earth do you think I would want to fly to South America with you?” Michael asked incredulously.

  “Don’t ask me any more questions now, Michael. I’ll explain everything later. Just get your passport and come to my apartment immediately.” She gave Michael her address. “If you’re not here in half an hour, you’ll never see your loving wife Myra alive again. I’ll kill her.”

  “What in hell are you talking about? Is Myra there with you?”

  “Yes. She’s sitting just a few feet from me.”

  “Put Myra on the phone. I want to talk with her.”

  “No can do, Mikey boy. Myra’s tied up right now. Literally. With ropes. And your wife had a little run-in with the butt of my revolver, so she’s taking a siesta. Siesta. I like that. I’m going to have to brush up on my Spanish.

  “You’d better hurry, Michael. Your time—Myra’s time, that is—is running out. Oh, and don’t even think of calling the police. If I hear any sirens, any at all, I’ll kill Myra first and find out afterwards if what I’d heard was a patrol car, a fire truck, or an ambulance. You’d better get a move on, buster.”

  Lois slammed the phone down.

  “Kim, did you hear that? I need to go. Lois sounded delusional. I don’t know whether she has Myra with her or not, but I can’t take any chances.”

  Kimberly grabbed her coat from the hook behind the door. “You’re not going to Lewis’s apartment by yourself, Michael. I’m going with you,” she told him.

  “THE DOOR’S UNLOCKED. Come in, quickly,” Lois called out, when Morgan rang the doorbell. Morgan was inside the apartment and closed the door behind her before she had a chance to take in the scene. Myra, who had just regained consciousness, was tied to a chair. Lois was squatting cross-legged on the floor, a revolver pointed at Morgan.

  “Wha—what’s going on here?” Morgan questioned.

  “Two down, one to go.” Lois gloated menacingly.

  “Watch out, Morgan!” Myra yelled. “Lois is the Sliced Nipples killer. She’s insane!”

  “That’s enough out of you, Myra,” Lois snapped. “I warned you to watch your filthy mouth.” She rose from her seat on the carpet, stepped quickly over to Myra, slapped her on the face, then covered Myra’s mouth with a single piece of duct tape, taken from the same roll she used to silence Rick Lacey’s screams.

  “Morgan, you’re going to sit down in that chair next to Myra and allow me to tie you up. And then, we’re going to wait for Myra’s husband to join our party. He’s on his way here now. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll kill Myra immediately.”

  Morgan stood her ground. “Why should I cooperate with you? When Michael gets here, you’ll murder all three of us, won’t you?” she spat out. “Isn’t that what you’re planning to do?”

  “I will if I have to,” Lois agreed. “But I’m going to give you a way to redeem yourselves. I overheard you and Myra in the Help’s Hall yesterday morning. You were blabbering about Rick’s scheme. After I killed him yesterday evening, I sat in the bar and watched you play blackjack. I know you still have the money you won. A half-million dollars, isn’t it? You couldn’t give it to Rick last night because, by the time you cashed in your chips, he’d cashed in his chips and was stone cold.

  “Now, all you have to do is tell me where the money is and I’ll let you live. I’ve already made reservations for a flight to South America. I’m going to a country where I can’t be extradited
.

  “Michael’s going to have to go with me. He’s my insurance policy. A hostage to guarantee your silence until I make my escape. I’ll leave you and Myra tied up here. If you should get loose and go to the police before Michael and I get on the plane, I’ll kill him.”

  “No.”

  Lois’s face turned red. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  “What is there about the word no you don’t understand, bitch?” Morgan retorted, thrusting a finger in Lois’s face. “No, I’m not going to let you tie me up. No, you won’t kill me, or you won’t get a cent of the money, because I’m the only person who knows where it is. No, you’re not going to kill Myra. You wouldn’t dare fire that gun here in your own apartment. The police would be here in minutes. But long before they arrive, I’ll tear your heart out with my bare hands and stuff it down your throat, and your baby will die along with you. No, you’re not going to involve Michael in this. This is between you and me now, sister. Now, untie Myra and we can talk about the money.”

  Lois was dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected Morgan to resist her, let alone so vehemently. Still pointing the gun at Morgan, Lois loosened the knots on Myra’s bonds. Myra removed the duct tape from her mouth as soon as her hands were freed.

  Morgan exchanged glances with Myra. It was as if they shared one mind. They both knew Lois had lost all touch with reality, that she was no longer thinking rationally or logically. Morgan and Myra set about to confuse Lois, by pretending to be on her side. The money was their bargaining tool. Perhaps they would be able to induce Lois to lower her guard and one of them would be able to disarm her.

  “Okay, Lois, you’ve got the gun, but I’ve got the cash,” Morgan started out. “The money you need to live on in South America. The money you need to keep you from being captured by the police. If you’re arrested, your baby will be born in jail, then taken away from you forever. You’ll spend the rest of your life rotting away in a prison cell.

  “If I give you the money, you can escape to a country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the United States. Forget about taking Michael, though. Myra and I will both go to South America with you. As your hostages or as your friends. But not just one of us. And certainly not with Michael.”

  Myra picked up the conversation. “I’m surprised, Lois. You must be the only person at Blue Hawaii who doesn’t know Michael and I are getting a divorce. Morgan and I are in love. Michael’s fallen in love with someone else, too. His girlfriend’s name is Kimberly Cohen, and she works with him at the Times. Michael doesn’t give a damn about me now. He wouldn’t do anything to help me. He hates my guts. There’s no need to involve him.”

  Morgan took over again. “Michael probably won’t even show up here. Myra’s right. He doesn’t care about her anymore. I’m Myra’s lover, not Michael. If you overheard us talking yesterday morning, you certainly should know that. I’m sure you also heard me say that Rick offered me $25,000 to sleep with him. I don’t blame you for killing Rick, Lois. He was no damn good. A real louse. Just like Myra’s husband. Michael wasn’t content with Myra, he had to have a girlfriend, too. All some men can think of is getting laid.

  It was Myra’s turn once more. “Put the gun down and we’ll help you, Lois. Morgan and I don’t have any reason to stay in Las Vegas and a half million reasons to leave. We have more than enough money for all three of us to live like queens in South America. So, put down your gun and we’ll start making plans for our future.”

  Lois wavered momentarily, then stood, again pointing the revolver at them. “You’re lying. Both of you. You’re good, though. You almost had me convinced you meant what you were saying.” She brushed a tear from her eye. “It would be nice if the three of us could go away together. The three female musketeers.

  “Let me show you what Rick did to me.” Lois unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra. “He bit my nipples off. Now I won’t be able to nurse my baby.” She started crying, but never relaxed her grip on the gun. “I’m going to stick with Plan A. I’m taking Michael with me. After we get off the plane in South America, I’ll kill him for you, Myra. You won’t have to bother with a divorce. Case closed.”

  Forty

  “STOP THE TAPE. Freeze the picture right there,” Mark Caruso ordered. “That’s the killer. Ohmygod, it’s a woman!”

  “I know her!” Tony exclaimed, his jaw dropping open as he zoomed in on the figure standing in the hotel corridor. “That’s Lois Lewis. She’s the manager of Human Resources here at Blue Hawaii.”

  “You’re right,” Mark agreed, recognizing her. “Ohmygod. Lois has Myra Kaplan at her house and Morgan Penny is on the way there. She must be planning to murder them both. Quick, how can I get Lewis’s address?”

  Tony checked the time. “I don’t know. The Human Resources department is closed for the day. Maybe—”

  “Never mind. Do you have a pencil? A sharpened pencil?” Mark asked.

  “Yes, I think so. In my desk drawer. Why?” Tony asked.

  “Get it,” Mark instructed. “Now.”

  Mark rubbed the edge of the pencil lead against the top sheet of the notepad on which Morgan had written Lois Lewis’s address. The indented numerals and letters stood out clearly in white against the gray of the graphite from the pencil. “This is it. I’m out of here, Tony.”

  “I hope you can get to Lois’s house in time, Lieutenant Caruso.”

  MICHAEL WAS DRIVING at breakneck speed, while Kimberly was trying to reach Mark Caruso on his cell phone. “What’s the matter, Kim? Why can’t you get through to Mark?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I keep getting a system busy signal. Possibly attendees at the big electronics convention here in town have overloaded the channels. Then, when I do get through, Mark’s number is busy.”

  “Keep trying.”

  Mark’s number was busy because he was also using his cell phone. He called Metro headquarters and ordered a SWAT team to converge on Lois Lewis’s apartment.

  Finally, Kimberly was able to get through to Mark. “Mark, this is Kim Cohen. I’ve been trying to reach you, but your phone has been busy. Michael and I are on the way to Lois Lewis’s apartment. Lois called Michael and said she’s holding Myra captive. She threatened to kill Myra if Michael doesn’t get over there right away.”

  “I was afraid of that. Lois is the Sliced Nipples serial killer. I saw her going into Rick Lacey’s room on the surveillance tape. Lewis also tricked Morgan Penny into going to her apartment, too. Morgan’s probably already there. It looks like Lois is planning to kill Myra, Morgan, and Michael. A triple header. Ohmygod, I wish I hadn’t said that.

  “Tell Michael not to go inside Lois’s apartment. That’s an order. There’s nothing he can do to help. All he’ll do is make matters worse and possibly get himself killed. A SWAT team is on the way and so am I. We’ll handle the situation.”

  But Michael wouldn’t listen. He arrived at the address only seconds ahead of Mark and ran up the stairs, two at a time, with Kimberly trailing close behind, Mark a few feet behind her.

  Mark called out to him. “Wait, Michael. Don’t go into Lewis’s apartment. Let me handle this. The SWAT guys will be here any minute.”

  But Michael ignored the warning. Lois had forgotten to lock the door after Morgan arrived, and Michael burst in without knocking.

  “Hold it right there, Michael,” Lois told him, pointing her gun in his direction. “I see you brought your girlfriend with you. Too bad. She’s going to have to die, too, if all of you don’t cooperate with me. Did you bring your passport?”

  Michael spoke slowly, deliberately, calmly. “Yes. It’s down in my car,” he lied. “I’m ready to go with you, Lois. Just don’t harm any of the women.”

  Lois turned to Morgan. “Okay, where’s the money? You’ll tell me, if you want to live.”

  “It’s in a safety deposit box at my bank,” Morgan lied. “I’ll get it for you, but you’ll have to wait until the bank opens in the morning.”

  “Th
en we’re all going to have a long night,” Lois told them.

  Just then, Mark Caruso entered the opened door, his automatic pointed at Lois.

  “Throw your weapon on the floor, Lois,” he ordered. “If you don’t, I’ll have to shoot.”

  “Don’t shoot her,” Myra screamed. “She’s pregnant!”

  “I warned you not to call the police!” Lois shrieked at Michael. “Now, I’m going to have to kill you!” She cocked the weapon and pointed it at Michael’s heart.

  “No! Don’t!” Kimberly cried out, thrusting her body between Michael and Lois, just as Lois fired the weapon.

  The bullet tore a large hole in Kimberly’s chest. Red stains spread over her white linen suit, and she slumped to the floor. Mark wrested the revolver from Lois’s hands. Myra held one of Lois’s arms and Morgan immobilized the other. Lois screamed obscenities and kicked furiously and tried to break loose from their grasp. Michael knelt over Kimberly.

  “You’ll be all right, Kim. The paramedics will be here any minute.”

  Kimberly spoke with extreme difficulty. “No, Michael, I know I’m not going to make it. Remember me, baby. I truly loved you.”

  “I love you too, Kimberly,” Michael told her. But she did not hear him. She had already died.

  Epilogue

  LOIS LEWIS FREELY CONFESSED to the homicides of Cicily Purdue, Jeff Herbert, Nellie Sherman, Patti Ho, Rick Lacey, and Kimberly Cohen. She was found not guilty of murder by reason of insanity. Lois named her child—a boy—Rick Lacey, Jr., even though Rick Lacey was deceased and therefore could not be a senior to the junior. He was to be raised by foster parents in Pahrump. Lois was confined in a mental hospital near Reno.

  Susan Lacey never recovered from the trauma of facing her husband’s decapitated head. By coincidence, she was sent for treatment to the same hospital near Reno where Lois Lewis was held. Neither Susan nor Rick had any living relatives, so the State of Nevada took charge of their children. Also by coincidence, Susan’s daughter and twin sons were assigned to the same foster home as Rick Lacey, Jr.