Barbara Levenson - Mary Magruder Katz 03 - Outrageous October

by Barbara Levenson

  “Hi, I’m Mary Katz. Are you the Goldstein family?”

  “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m Jeff and this is my wife, Sophie. This is my grandfather Franz Goldstein and my dad, Harry. Dash Mellman said you’d be here to help us when we talk to the FBI people. How can this be happening?”

  I shook hands with each of them. Franz barely acknowledged that I was there.

  “Don’t be upset. This is all very routine. I will be in the room with each of you as you’re called in. If I don’t want you to answer a question, I’ll put my hand on your arm at the same time that I object. That’s your cue to stop talking and wait,” I explained.

  “You mean they’re going to talk to each of us separately?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, they have that right, and actually it gives the investigator a better idea of what each of you might be able to add.”

  “It’s impossible for my father to be questioned without one of us with him. He doesn’t always even recognize his own family anymore. We are accustomed to keeping him calm. We know how to handle him and help him listen to directions. His mind is not functioning as it used to,” Harry said.

  “I’m sure that the investigator will realize this, but let me sit with Franz for a few minutes and see if he can understand me,” I said.

  Harry moved over and I took the seat next to Franz. “Good morning Mr. Goldstein. How are you?” I asked.

  Franz gave me a happy smile. “You can call me Franz,” he said. He had a fairly heavy accent. He reminded me of the old people who used to live on Miami Beach when I was a young child.

  “He likes women,” Jeff said.

  “I can see that. Franz, do you know where you are?”

  “Of course, I’m at the schul.”

  “So do you know why you’re here?”

  “Sure. It’s Rosh Hashanah. Shouldn’t we go in and get our seats for the service? Why are we sitting out here?”

  “That holiday was a few weeks ago. We’re here today because a policeman wants to talk to us about something that happened to Roland Behr. Do you know who he is?”

  “That schtunck, that gonif. Of course, I know who he is. He shouldn’t be allowed to live here.”

  “Okay, Franz. Do you know what happened to Roland Behr?”

  “Who?” Franz asked.

  “See what I mean?” Harry asked.

  “I’m sure they won’t speak to him for long,” I reassured him. “Now do any of you have any other questions for me? I’m sure they will ask you where you were on the night of the murder, and whether you own any firearms, and whether you knew about the neo-Nazi group.”

  “I think this is ridiculous. They can’t believe that we would actually murder someone.” Sophie spoke up for the first time.

  I reminded the Goldsteins that Franz had suffered at the hands of the Nazis, so it was inevitable that they would want to meet with the family.

  The door to the Rabbi’s study opened and a tall young woman stepped out. She ushered out an older woman. They shook hands. Harry approached the older woman and gave her a hug.

  “Mildred, are you being questioned too?” Harry said.

  “Please, I must request that you do not discuss anything I’ve asked you with the other witnesses,” the tall woman said as she escorted Mildred to the outer door.

  I was happy to see that the agent who was doing the interviews was a woman. I knew Franz would respond better to her.

  I quickly introduced myself and explained why I was there.

  “I’m Laura Morris. I’m with the FBI office serving Northern New England,” she said and showed us her badge. “I’m going to speak to each of you in just a minute, but to save time, let me explain that my job is to gather as much information as possible regarding the death of Roland Behr. I will be handing each of you a form explaining your rights. If you have any questions about the form, just ask me. You have counsel who will represent you during my questions. Once you are sure you understand the form, please sign it.”

  “Are we being accused of something here? Are any of us under arrest?” Jeff was showing his anger.

  “No, this is completely investigatory at this point.” Agent Morris answered.

  “Let me suggest that we get under way. I’m sure you’re on a tight schedule. Why don’t you start with Harry Goldstein?” I stood up and steered Harry toward the door to the study. My hope was that the whole family didn’t become defensive and appear guilty of something.

  We entered a pleasant room with a large antique desk and several comfortable leather chairs. The view from the large window reflected the sun on the crimson apples still remaining on a squat tree..

  Laura seated herself behind the desk, placed Harry under oath, and turned on a tape recorder. “I hope you have no objection to the use of the recorder.” Without waiting for an answer, Laura began her questions.

  “State your full name and date of birth, sir.” Laura began.

  “Harry Joseph Goldstein. July 12, 1954.

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a social worker. I work for the United Jewish Appeal of Greater New York.”

  “What are your duties there?”

  “I’m in charge of overseeing several of the services run by the organization including family services, vocational services, and nutritional services.”

  “How long have you worked there?”

  “Let’s see, almost six years. Prior to that, I was employed by Vista services of New England working with families.”

  “Did you live in this area at one time?”

  Yes, I did. We raised our children in Vermont. My wife died six years ago. I took the job in New York and moved there. It was just so difficult being here after she died.”

  “And where do you live in New York?”

  “In the East Village, near New York University.”

  “When you lived here, did you know Roland Behr?”

  “I knew who he was, but I never socialized with him, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Why not?”

  “Everyone knew he was anti-Semitic. He and his wife had a few friends who shared his views.”

  “Am I correct that your father came from Germany and was interred during the war?”

  “That’s a polite way to put it. My dad and my mother lost their entire families during the war, killed by the Nazis. They met here in the U.S. They didn’t like to talk too much about what happened to them while I was growing up, but later when Jeff came along, he asked my dad a lot of questions and got him talking. Jeff had a school writing project. Dad agreed to speak to the students and that opened the door for him to speak out. He addressed high school classes here for several years until my mother passed away. He’s gone downhill very fast. I hope you will understand that he is no longer able to converse coherently.”

  “I will have to judge that for myself. Right now I need to hear where you were on October Twelfth in the evening hours.”

  “Just a minute,” I said, placing my hand on Harry’s arm. “Mr. Goldstein was trying to explain something important to you. There’s no reason for you to be rude. He’s answering all your questions, but I expect you to respect him and the rest of his family.”

  “No need to get your dander up. Ms. Katz. No one’s being rude. I’m just doing my job, as I assume, you are. Is your client going to answer my last question?”

  “Go ahead, Harry,” I said.

  “I was working that night. That was our opening fund raising event. We had almost a thousand people at the Plaza Hotel. Elie Wiesel was our speaker. People were still there at eleven o’clock, and I wasn’t able to leave until after midnight.”

  “Are there people whose names you can provide who saw you there?”

  “Give or take a thousand or so,” I interrupted. “Look Agent Morris. Harry was a five hour drive from High Pines. I think you can safely eliminate him from your suspicious list.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Katz, for your assistance, but I feel capable of making such
judgments on my own. Now, Mr. Goldstein, when was the last time you were here in the Upper Valley?”

  “That would have been on Yom Kippur, about three weeks ago.”

  “And how often do you visit here?”

  “I try to get here once a month if my work allows. I like to check on my dad and see how Jeff and Sophie are doing, and to see my little grandson.”

  “Do you own any firearms?”

  “I did, but I gave my hunting guns to Jeff when I moved down to New York.”

  “Okay, sir, I think that’s all I need from you. Please, don’t discuss these questions with other members of your family. Ms. Katz, please bring Franz Goldstein in.”

  Harry and I departed quickly. Once outside the Rabbi’s study, Harry shook his head.

  “She’s some piece of work. I don’t know how she’s going to interview Dad.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep everyone calm.” I turned to Franz. “Come on Franz. Let’s take a little walk. I want you to meet a lady named Laura. She’s very pretty.”

  “Oh, good, I like the pretty ones,” Franz said. Harry and I helped him up and Harry tucked his cane in Franz’s hand.

  We made our way slowly through the door.

  “Franz, this is Laura. She wants to ask you some questions.”

  Laura turned the tape recorder back on.

  “For the record,” I said, Franz Goldstein is unable to sign his rights form or to understand its meaning. He has dementia and it is my hope that he will be treated very carefully.”

  “Are you finished, Ms. Katz?“ I nodded my head.

  “Hello, Franz. My name is Laura Morris. Can you tell me your full name?”

  “Do you know my wife. I’ll bet she’d like to meet you,” Franz said.

  “Franz, tell Laura your name,” I said.

  “She already knows it”.

  “Franz, do you know how old you are?”

  “Sure, I’m fifty-five.”

  Laura looked at me. I guessed that she had never encountered someone with dementia.

  “Franz, were you born in Germany?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that place.” Franz frowned and tried to turn his back on Laura.

  “Okay, we won’t then. Did you ever meet someone named Roland Behr?”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “In Dachau.”

  “Where is Dachau?”

  “Back there.”

  “Where do you live, Franz”

  “In my own apartment. I can’t talk to you anymore. We’re late for the service, and the rabbi doesn’t like it when people come in late.”

  “You can go in just a minute. Franz, have you seen Roland here in High Pines?”

  “Jeff said, just ignore him. Jeff said he’d take care of everything. I hate Roland, and now I don’t like you anymore.” Franz struggled to his feet. “Don’t bother me anymore.” He raised his cane and pointed it at Laura.

  For a minute, I thought he was going to hit the agent with the cane. He lowered it and it was clear that he didn’t have the strength to hit anyone.

  “We’re through here,” I said. I took Franz’s arm and led him from the room.

  Laura followed us into the hallway. “Please bring in Sophie Goldstein.”

  Harry guided his father into a chair and approached Laura. “Ms. Morris, may I leave and take my father home? He seems very upset.”

  “Yes, you can leave, but please don’t go back to New York or out of the area without checking with me. I may need to speak to you again,” Laura said.

  I shook hands with Harry, and motioned Sophie to follow me into the rabbi’s study which was now an interrogation room.

  Laura went through her routine about the rights form and the tape recorder and placed Sophie under oath. Sophie squirmed in her chair, her eyes darting from me to Laura and back again.

  “Sophie, do you recall the evening of October twelfth and can you relate everything you do remember about that evening?”

  “I’m pretty sure that was one of the nights that we had Papa Franz over for dinner. It was our baby’s nine month birthday and Papa loves to play with the baby. It always cheers him up.”

  “How did he get to your house and what time did he arrive?”

  “Jeff picked him up on his way home from work. The assisted living facility is close to where he works when he’s not working out of our house. We’re both graphic designers so we don’t always have to go into the office.”

  “When did Franz and Jeff arrive? How did the evening progress?”

  “They got home about six. I fed the baby and then we all sat down and had dinner. We had a cake and Jacob sat in his high chair with us and got the icing all over his face. It was so cute. We took some pictures.”

  “Yes, well, how long did Franz stay at your house?”

  “We watched the Red Sox game on TV. Franz fell asleep. I guess the game was over around ten, and Jeff woke his granddad up and got him into the car.”

  “How far is it to Franz’s place?”

  “About five or six miles.”

  “And when did Jeff get home?”

  “Jeff called from there. Papa Franz refused to settle down and go to bed. Jeff said he was disoriented and kept saying he wanted to go with Jeff.”

  “What time did he call?”

  “I had already gone to bed, so I’m not sure. I told Jeff to bring him back and I’d get the guest room ready. Jeff said he was waiting for the nurse to come in and maybe they’d give Franz a sedative or a tranquilizer or something.”

  “So when did Jeff get back?”

  “He called again and said Franz was very hyper even after the medication, I told him to bring him home and we’d get him quiet. I got the bed made up and they got here a little after twelve.”

  “So you really don’t know where Jeff and Franz were for over two hours, do you?” Laura said accusingly.

  “Okay, Laura, Sophie has answered all your questions very patiently. Knock off your tone,” I said.

  Sophie interrupted me. “Yes, I know where my husband was. He was with Papa trying to get him relaxed. Unlike some people today, we place great value on our elders. This happens fairly often. We don’t just abandon him to some nurse.”

  Sophie and I stood up. “We’re through with the questions for Sophie Goldstein,” I said.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  As Sophie and I left the room, my cell phone rang. Laura followed us out. She called out to us and then her cell phone rang. I was surprised that there was actual mobile reception for both of our phones.

  I glanced at my caller ID and saw that Lillian was calling. What now? I thought

  “Lillian, please hold on a moment,” I said, and turned to Laura. “Let’s take a break for a few minutes.”

  Laura was looking at her phone and frowning. “Okay, fifteen minutes and then I need to interview Jeff Goldstein,” Laura answered as she hurried back into the Rabbi’s study and shut the door.

  I motioned Jeff and Sophie to follow me out to the courtyard. The sun was actually shining and the wind had subsided. The pleasant weather was in contrast to the tense mood of the remaining Goldsteins. Jeff and Sophie sat down on one of the benches a short distance away while I went back to my cell phone..

  “Lillian, is everything all right?”

  “It’s fine, Mary. I just wanted you to know that Sherry and I are leaving on a three o’clock flight back to Miami. Brett is driving us to Manchester, and then he’s headed back to New York.”

  “How is Sherry?”

  “She’s still very quiet, but she seems much less nervous since you went with her to the jail. I just can never thank you enough for everything. I wanted you to know that I’ve mailed a check to your office to cover all the time you spent helping us.”

  “Lillian, that wasn’t necessary. I’m very fond of Sherry and I considered helping her as a friend, not a lawyer.”

  “Ma
ry, is there anything I can do for you once we get back to Miami? When are you coming home?”

  “I don’t know, Lillian. I‘ve been away too long, but I keep getting involved in cases here.”

  “Maybe that’s just your way of avoiding whatever is bothering you in Miami. Let me know if I can do anything for you, please.”

  “I will. I’ll be back soon, really. Safe trip”

  I put my phone in my pocket and moved over to sit with Jeff and Sophie. I was ready to admit that I was avoiding a return to Miami and to life without Carlos. I decided to set a firm deadline to start the trip back. Maybe just one more weekend here.

  Jeff interrupted my argument with myself. “Mary, Sophie says that bitch Morris thinks I was out murdering Roland Behr. This is ludicrous.”

  “Jeff, can you find the nurse that helped you with Franz the night of Roland’s murder?”

  “I hope so. They’re all practical nurses, not R.N’s so they do tend to come and go, but Marie has been there a while and she is fond of Papa. She’ll remember the problem we had with him that evening.”

  I glanced at my watch and ushered the Goldsteins back inside. They were an attractive couple and clearly devoted to each other and to Jeff’s family. Maybe they would lie to help each other.

  Laura was waiting outside her adopted interrogation room. Jeff and I took seats in front of the desk, as Laura started her spiel about rights and tape recorders once again.

  Laura began with the usual questions, name, address, job, how long at the current address. Then she slid into police mode. “I know that Franz was at your home on the night of Roland Behr’s murder. Did you leave with Franz sometime after dinner?”

  Jeff told Laura pretty much what Sophie had told her; that Franz had been volatile and refused to go to bed or even to lie down. The night nurse named Marie had given him a tranquilizer and finally Jeff brought Franz back to his home where he and Sophie had gotten him to bed.

  “Were you acquainted with Roland Behr?”

  “Everyone in High Pines knew who he was. He was a scary old guy, sort of like a hermit,” Jeff said.