Lowell had been taking all this in. “I believe that America is fundamentally strong and will survive. Unquestionably the world has reached a crossroads where we must make some very difficult decisions, and I do have serious doubts that we will make the right ones. But I have hope.”
He handed her a card.
“I’m giving a lecture on the political and financial future of America on the fifteenth of this month at the Ivy League Club. I think you’ll find it interesting. If you email my secretary she’ll put you on my mailing list.”
“I have a friend who is very into this stuff. Maybe I will come and bring her.”
Lowell stood up. “I want to thank you. You’ve been most helpful and informative.”
Sally stood as well. “If there’s anything else I can do for you please let me know. One of the real limitations with addictive problems is that people are often ashamed of them and try to solve them alone. It would be better to go to someone who has experience with such things.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lowell, Melinda, and Johnny met in the office for a light lunch and to compare notes.
Sarah knocked and entered.
“Sarah, come in, come in.” Lowell picked up her astrology chart and said: “How is your lower back feeling?”
“It’s much better now. Hey, I never mentioned my back. Don’t do that, it freaks me out.”
Lowell laughed. “Sorry, I’m just working on an experiment and I was using your chart. You want to be part of it?”
“Does it involve getting shot at?”
“No.”
“Then count me in.”
“Good.”
He took two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to her.
“Between exactly 2:14 and 2:22 I want you to buy some tickets like you did the other day. Venus is conjunct your part of fortune today and the Moon will be applying to a conjunction of that point exactly at that time. I want to see how that plays out. Now, what time do you have?’
Sarah looked at her phone. “1:52.”
“Perfect. Now remember, only buy them from 2:14 until 2:22, and then stop.”
Sarah left on her mission and David went back to his computer.
“What’s he doing?” asked Johnny.
“He’s trying to beat the system,” said Melinda.
“He can do that? I mean is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” She started to laugh. “But if anyone can, it’s him.”
“With astrology?”
Melinda laughed loudly.
Lowell looked up. “What’s so funny?”
“You are,” said his daughter. “It must be very exciting in that head of yours for you to follow all these threads.”
“I have to know everything about a subject before I can make an educated decision.”
“Yes, I know.”
Johnny was playing with the turtles. Melinda walked over to the tank and stuck her finger out for Buster and Keaton to sniff.
“They’re big,” said Johnny.
“Each time I come here they seem a little larger.”
“Yes,” said Lowell. “It’s about time to go shopping for a new turtle condo.”
“Ooh, can I come along?” said Johnny. “I love pet stores.”
“What? We’ll see,” said Lowell, brusquely.
“Maybe we could, um, go to the zoo in Central Park too? I love animals.”
“Johnny,” Lowell reprimanded her, “you’re on trial for your life. I would think you would have more important things on your mind that going to the zoo.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” Then she smiled at Lowell.
Melinda looked sideways at Johnny, then at her father. Could it be? Did Johnny have a thing for him? She smiled at the notion. Just have to watch and wait.
Sarah returned a few minutes later with a handful of colorful scratch-off tickets. She placed them in the middle of the desk and everyone came over.
“You did exactly as I told you?”
“I can tell time, boss.”
“Okay, let’s all get to it.”
It was Melinda who first shrieked and held up a $500 winner. They all looked at it with astonishment. There was another $500 winner, a $100 winner, two fifties, four twenties and an assortment of ones and fives that added up to $1,311.
“Can you do that every time?” asked Johnny, her eyes wide open in excitement and just a bit of drool escaping from the side of her mouth.
“I don’t have enough data,” replied the astrologer. “I suppose with enough research we could map out the best times to gamble. Of course with the odds in this dreadful game being so horrendous this experiment would probably work better in a casino or racetrack. But remember, it will only work at all if you play only when it is time and quit the second that time passes.”
“Can we do it again?” asked Sarah.
“Well, I’ll look over everyone’s charts and see when the next window of opportunity is coming. Now if you all don’t mind, we have a defense to prepare.”
“My God,” said Melinda, as if snapping out of a trance. “Look at the time. I’ve got to get down to my office.”
“What about me?” asked Johnny.
Lowell and Melinda exchanged a glance.
“I want you to go back to the townhouse and stay there,” said Lowell, in a stern voice.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go out alone now for anything.”
Lowell buzzed Andy in the car. “I’m sending Johnny down to you. Get her to the townhouse and then come right back here.”
“But boss, I thought you wanted me to stay with her?”
“She’ll be all right for a few hours with Julia. And I need you.”
After Melinda and Johnny left he picked up the intercom and pushed number two.
Mort entered a few minutes later. “What’s up?”
“Have you found anything yet?”
“Nothing you couldn’t have found through Google yourself.”
“I think it’s time to return to her apartment. I want you to get into her computer and let’s see what’s there.”
“Did you happen to notice what kind of computer she had?”
He pulled his small notebook from his jacket pocket. “It was a Dell. The model was XPS 8100.”
“Good.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Andy returned he drove Lowell and Mort to the judge’s residence. He parked up the street to wait while the two entered the building.
As they approached the concierge’s desk, Lowell noted how quickly the crew had completed the lobby. The only trace of the chaos that had confronted him on his last visit was a sole workman still toiling next to the stairwell. There was a two-foot hole in the wall from which he had extracted a large wire cable that was actually many wires bundled together.
The same concierge was on duty.
“May I help you, gentlemen?”
“David Lowell.” He presented his business card. “We met the other day. I’m working on Judge Winston’s murder investigation.”
The man took his card and placed it down without looking at it. “Yes, Mr. Lowell, I remember you.”
“My associate and I require access to the apartment once again.”
“I’m sorry,” said the man, with little, if any, sympathy in his voice, “but I have been informed that you are no longer to be allowed in Ms. Winston’s apartment.”
Lowell’s temper flared. “What do you mean, you’ve been informed? By whom have you been so instructed? The court of New York has granted me permission to inspect that apartment.”
“Mr. Lowell, I’m sorry, but there isn’t anything I can do to help you. I must ask you to please leave the premises at once or I
shall be forced to call the police.”
Lowell was just about to tell him to do so when Mort tugged at his sleeve. David looked over at him. He was shaking his head so slightly it would have been missed by someone who didn’t know him. Lowell raised his eyebrows and Mort smiled a Mona Lisa grin.
“All right, but we’ll be back with a court order.”
“Have a nice day,” said the concierge, turning his back on them.
“So?” asked David, once they were outside the building.
“Do you want to wait until the courts intervene?”
Lowell shook his head. “I want to get into that computer now. Time is not on our side, and there’s always a chance that whoever put through the order to prevent our entrance has the clout to block us permanently.”
Mort smiled. “Did you notice the man working on the electrical system?”
“Of course I did. I’m not blind.”
“I took a look at the schematics of this building online before we left the office. Unless I’m mistaken, the cable he was repairing controls the security system, including the alarms and cameras. That includes the elevators and stairwells.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting that we break into the building and sneak up the staircase like a pair of common thieves, are you?”
“Of course not,” replied Mort. “I’m horrified that you think I would suggest breaking the law.”
They walked out of the condo and turned right, then circled around to the side of the building. There was a door in the middle of the block.
Lowell looked at Mort. “Well?”
It took Mort less than a minute to pick the lock They slipped through and scurried into the stairwell.
They climbed the stairs to the victim’s apartment, the first three flights quickly; the last three, not so quickly. By the time they reached the sixth floor Lowell had resolved to return to the gym.
The apartment was close to the doorway they exited. The lock to the apartment door was trickier. It was a fool-proof, double bolt drop lock, made of titanium, with a life-time guarantee against burglary. It took Mort almost two minutes to pick it.
“How do you do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s like I’m inside the lock and I just know how to twist the pick just right.”
Once inside they hurried to the computer and Lowell handed Mort a pair of latex gloves.
“What about you?”
“I was already allowed up here, so finding my fingerprints will be expected.
Mort turned on the computer.
“What’s your first impression of this place?” Lowell looked around and gestured for Mort to do the same.
The psychic turned around and looked at the sterile room for a few moments. “Nobody lived here.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
Mort was able to break the password quickly, but there were firewalls protecting some files that were more difficult.
“Obviously these are the ones we want,” said Lowell, looking over Mort’s shoulder. “Can you get into them?”
“You didn’t hire me for my good looks and witty repartee, but a few files are encrypted with a self-destruct program, and they would take some time to bypass.”
“Is there anything you can do quickly?”
Mort took out a screwdriver from a small canvas bag. “Only one thing I can think of right off the top of my head.” He shut the machine off, bent down, and pulled the computer out from under the desk. He unscrewed the casing and took the front off. Then reached into his bag and pulled out a black metal rectangle.
“What’s that?” asked Lowell.
“It’s a blank, formatted hard drive, the same that comes standard with this model. With luck, this way it will look like someone erased the files from the original one. With a little more luck nobody will know that it’s missing.”
He gently pulled out a sliding drawer, removed the rectangle’s twin, put the decoy in its place, screwed it in, and put the casing back on. Then he pushed the computer back to where it had been. He put the treasure in his bag and they headed for the door.
***
The concierge walked over to the workman. “How much longer will you be? Some of the residents have complained.”
The workman was sitting on the floor; a ten-foot stretch of coaxial cable extended out from a hole in the wall like the umbilical cord of some strange electronic creature. He looked up at the concierge. “Fuck ’em.” He said it with the strength of his union to back him up. “It’ll take as long as it takes.”
”You have until exactly five o’clock. Then I will call your supervisor.”
“Don’t get your ass in an uproar. I’ll be done.”
The concierge looked at his watch. “It’s 4:40. I expect this appendage out of sight and that gaping hole sealed up in twenty minutes. You can come back tomorrow and finish whatever else needs to be done.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I just got to run a test to see if the cameras are working.”
He turned on the system, then went behind the concierge’s desk and turned on the console. Eighteen screens lit up. There were ninety separate cameras throughout the building; each screen servicing two in a constant rotation. They would have to be all tested individually, but not tonight.
“All right, all I got to do is put it back into the wall and do a run-through and make sure the system’s working. I’ll send someone to repair the hole in the morning. Why don’t you just put a couch or something in front of it for now? Should have a full view of everything in about ten minutes.”
“You’re not leaving until I get a chance to test this also.”
“Yeah, whatever you say, buddy. Anything after five is time and a half. I’ll stay here all night if you want. Let’s test one part of the system to make sure it’s working.”
“Which one?”
“It doesn’t matter,” replied the workman, “you decide.”
“The stairwells.”
***
Lowell closed the apartment door quietly and wiped off Mort’s fingerprints. It was getting late in the afternoon and people would begin returning from work or school at any time. He didn’t want to be seen by anyone who could identify them later. Breaking and entering, theft and God knows what other felonies they had committed might be just a bit difficult to explain. Besides, there was no way of knowing who had issued the restriction on his movement, and until he did know he had to be extra careful. An attempt had been made on his client’s life. These people were playing for keeps. It wouldn’t be wise to let them get him into a jail cell.
“Should we risk the elevators?”
Lowell shook his head. “The stairs. It’s safer, and going down is much easier than coming up.”
A door was opening down the hall. The two scurried into the stairwell just as a neighbor headed for the elevator.
They moved quickly down the steps.
***
“Almost ready over here,” said the workman. “Wait one second until I reconnect this last plug.” He pushed the heavy cable into its appropriate input and fed the massive cord back into the wall where it lived. “All right, I’m ready. Just turn on the system and push the red reboot button on top. You should get a picture in about thirty seconds. Then punch up each stairwell camera one at a time and use the sweep.”
***
Lowell and Mort were on the third floor. Mort looked up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling and noticed a flickering green light. “Uh oh, it looks like they’re turning the system back on.”
They started running downstairs two steps at a time.
***
“You getting anything yet?”
“It’s all a little foggy.”
“Just a second,” said the workman. He reached into
the wall and jiggled the cable a bit. “How’s that?”
“Now it’s coming into focus.” The concierge looked down at the screens in front of him and started fiddling with the cameras.
***
Lowell and Mort had reached the street level. Lowell slowly opened the door and peered out. A security guard making his rounds was resting right outside, his back to the door. Lowell pulled his head back in and shut the door silently. He put his finger to his lips. Mort nodded.
***
“Just let me run through the stairwell cameras quickly and you can go.”
He turned the knobs and had a full view of the Seventeenth floor staircase. The cameras were each on a movable apparatus that was controlled from here. He flipped each button and watched as the panoramic view was completed. First the Seventeenth floor, then the Sixteenth…
***
Mort looked up and saw that the light on the camera was no longer flickering and was now a solid green. He pointed. Lowell nodded and shrugged. They both moved out of the camera’s range. It sat stationary atop its perch, but they knew that soon it would be moving back and forth, capturing the whole area.
Lowell opened the door again, very slowly. The man was still standing there. Lowell gently closed the door.
“Should we try for the basement?” whispered Mort.
“I have an idea.” He took out his cell phone and was pleasantly surprised to see that he had a signal.
***
“I’m almost done,” said the concierge. “Only three more floors to check out and you can leave.”
The third-floor cameras were working fine. The second floor as well. He turned the knob on the ground floor stairwell cameras. There was someone in the stairwell. There appeared to be two men. He focused the camera and was about to zoom in on the faces.
A loud crash outside the building grabbed his attention. Horns were blasting and someone was shouting obscenities.
“Damn,” he said, as he ran out from behind his desk and hurried to the front door. “What now?”
When he heard the crash the security guard also immediately headed for the front of the building.
Murder in the Eleventh House Page 10