The Labor Day Murder

by Lee Harris

  “They have to be. There’s no one else I can think of that might give me new information except Dodie Murchison, and I don’t know where to find her any more than the police do.”

  “It’s interesting to me that these people, the Norrises, didn’t throw us out or ask us politely to leave. They were uncomfortable, especially Mrs. Norris, but they talked.”

  “I’ve wondered about that myself. She could have closed the door on us at the beginning or said she had nothing more to say at any point, but she didn’t. Maybe it’s the desire for fresh gossip; the feeling that if she cooperates, she’ll learn more about these intriguing murders in a town she once lived in.”

  “Like the people who put their foot on the brake as they pass an accident on the road when they have no intention of stopping to help. They just want to see it.”

  I thought it was an apt comparison.

  —

  We set out on the tricycles after lunch and a brief rest in the living room, during which I tried Dodie’s home number once again. With each attempt I became more convinced she was involved in one or both of the homicides, but I had no idea how. Would she turn herself in before the weekend was over? What would she do on Monday morning when she was expected at work? I had a feeling she was turning those questions over herself in her own mind, wherever she was.

  Joseph and I stopped in front of the house that had been built on the Norrises’ lot. I showed her how the bricks from the old chimney had been used around the door and under the windows.

  “I understand old brick is quite valuable nowadays,” she said. “And here was a supply, absolutely free. I don’t blame them for using them.”

  We cycled the last few feet to the Hersheys’ house and I knocked on the door. I hadn’t called first, thinking they were so close, we wouldn’t have wasted much time if they weren’t home.

  But they were. A man I estimated to be about ten years older than Conrad Norris opened the door with a friendly “Hiya.”

  When I’d given my usual explanation of who we were and why we were there, he invited us in to a house reminiscent of Dodie’s and Chief La Coste’s. Everything was on one floor, but the living room and kitchen had been opened into each other and had become a large, attractive room with new-looking appliances.

  Mrs. Hershey was sitting in a chair facing the windows and did not move to rise when we entered. A cane leaned against a table to her right.

  “These ladies are asking questions about that fire next door a long time ago, Wilma,” Mr. Hershey said to her.

  “The Norrises’. I’ll never forget that. We were lucky it didn’t spread and burn us up, too. There was no wind that day, I remember.”

  “That was lucky,” I said. “Were you and the Norrises good friends?”

  “Oh yes, great friends. Harry and Connie used to go down to the bay and go clamming. Remember, Harry? Sweetest clams I ever ate.”

  “Those were good times,” Harry agreed. “Red tide came along; that was the end of the clams. End of an era.” He seemed sad.

  “Did you keep up with the Norrises?”

  “You know, we didn’t,” Harry said. “We were summer friends. What do they call it? Fair-weather friends. We lived hours apart in the winter. We almost never got together after the summer was over. They moved away, you know. Haven’t seen ’em for years.”

  “But you had the key to their house next door.”

  “Oh, sure,” Wilma said. She adjusted her position in the chair with some difficulty and I wondered how she managed to get down to the ferry. “And they had ours. We were friends and you need someone to have the key in case you lose yours or there’s an emergency. The people across the way have ours now.”

  “Had you been in the Norrises’ house the day of the fire?”

  “You mean after they left? No. Why would we?”

  “I just wondered about the stove in their kitchen.”

  “That was too bad, wasn’t it? Sandy must’ve left it on and forgot all about it.”

  “I thought maybe you went in there for something and used the stove that day after the Norrises left.”

  “We weren’t in that house,” her husband said. “I’ll swear to that in a court of law. And we never gave the key to anybody.”

  “Did you know Ken Buckley?” I addressed both of them.

  “Knew him and liked him,” Harry said.

  “The funeral’s today.”

  “It’s hard for the wife to get around. We decided to send flowers instead.”

  “How did you come to know Ken?”

  “He was always a very friendly guy. Even after he became chief, he and a couple of firemen would come around collecting for the fire department. I really got to know him when I was a volunteer fireman, but that was a long time ago. I developed some heart problems and the doc said I should give it up.”

  “Was Ken part of the group that responded to the alarm for the Norrises’ house?”

  “Couldn’t tell ya,” Harry said. “There were so goddamn many—excuse me, Sister, I didn’t mean to offend—there were so many firemen from so many towns, I couldn’t tell ya who was there and who wasn’t.”

  “It was some mess,” his wife said. “Water all over the place. Everything was mud the next day. I never saw anything like it. When they ran out of freshwater, they had to pump it out of the sea. Nothing worse than salt water.”

  “Did you turn in the alarm?” I asked.

  “Yes, but other people did, too. You could really see those flames from out front.”

  “What time was the fire?” It was the first question Joseph had asked.

  The Hersheys looked at each other. “Evening,” Harry said. “I couldn’t tell you the exact time.”

  “The Norrises left their house in the afternoon. It seems like a long time for something to be on the stove before the fire broke out.”

  “Couldn’t tell ya anything about it. They looked into it That’s what they said happened. Something on the stove burned out.”

  “Do you know anyone named Frisch?” I asked.

  “I don’t,” Wilma said. “You, Harry?”

  “Never heard the name in my life.”

  “You know anyone named Tina?”

  They shook their heads. I looked over at Joseph.

  “I have no other questions,” she said. She stood and walked to the windows. “This is such a lovely vacation spot. I’ve heard about Fire Island for years and seen that skinny strip of land just below Long Island, but I never imagined it to be like this. You’re very lucky to have a home here.”

  “Well, we love it,” Wilma said. “I haven’t been able to walk good for almost ten years, but I’ve got a little motorized scooter I get around on and Harry helps out with groceries. When we first moved here, you had to bring everything from the mainland.”

  “You mean, you carried your food with you?” Joseph asked.

  “Oh, yes. That’s the way it was back then. We’d bring it over in cartons and coldpacks and load it on wagons when we got off the ferry. We still bring things out with us, but there’s no panic if you run out.”

  We finished up our visit soon after that and pedaled back to our house. Jack was in the living room reading one of his law books, and we sat on the front deck and talked.

  “I love to hear them recall the good old days,” Joseph said. “The bay had the sweetest clams till the red tide came. What do you think, Chris? Are we closer to an answer?”

  “I’m troubled,” I admitted. “The Norrises left in the afternoon, the fire started in the evening. Presumably it took all those hours for the fire to start. I suppose that’s possible.”

  “But you’re troubled. And I am, too. I’m also troubled by Tina Frisch’s part in all this. No one seems to have heard of her.”

  “But she was at the fire, she was hiding her identity, she denied having been there, and she had a fireman’s coat that she hid at Chief La Coste’s house.” I had briefed Joseph on all the relevant figures in our first conversation. �
��And it certainly looks as though Tina murdered Ken Buckley and lost her life for it.”

  “It does look that way, but I’m not happy with that solution. Who would avenge Ken Buckley’s death?”

  “His wife, but she wasn’t on the island Wednesday night. She was at the wake for her husband.”

  “Then who else?” she asked rhetorically. “And then there’s Attorney Murchison. We believe she was doing legal work for Ken Buckley and it sounds as though she may have been involved with him in more intimate ways as well. An estate attorney that he met on the beach and hired to do legal work for him. On the face of it, it seems rather preposterous.”

  “I agree.”

  “I would like to meet your Chief La Coste. Not that I’ll be able to extract anything new from him, but he sounds like a very interesting person. Living on this island in the winter must be quite an experience.”

  “We can go over later in the afternoon. I worry that he may take a nap after lunch and I don’t want to disturb him. As robust as he seems to be, I’m sure he needs a lot more sleep than we do. But we could walk down the street and take a look at the second crime scene.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. And happily, this crime scene will not have a body on the premises.” She was referring to a time not so long ago when we had made a terrible discovery together.

  I told Jack where he could find us, and we walked over to the Kleins’ house.

  19

  Someone was coming down the ramp with two suitcases on a wagon as we approached. It was one of the girls I had only said hello to. She looked ready to embark on a long trip and I realized this was the last day of their season, the day they cleaned up, packed up, and went home for the start of fall. Today their summer was truly over.

  Kyle was helping her. He pulled the wagon and the girl clutched a stuffed bear as though she were a child in need of security, which, perhaps, was not a bad description of how she felt.

  “Hi, Chris,” Kyle called. “Coming to see me?”

  “Coming to look at where it happened.”

  “Don’t touch anything, OK? Chief Springer said there was no one to leave to guard the area, but they might have to come back and do more work there.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “I’ll be back soon if you feel like talking.”

  “Maybe we’ll see you.”

  He pulled the wagon toward the bay while the girl kept a hand on the suitcases. Joseph and I walked around the right side of the big house to the yellow crime scene tape, which enclosed not just the gate to the crawl space but also a section of grass outside it.

  “She was found in there,” I said, pointing. “Near or on top of the bicycle.” I couldn’t see the bicycle and thought the police had probably taken it with them.

  “So the body was hidden.”

  “For many hours. Possibly twelve. The autopsy should give us some idea.”

  There wasn’t much to see. The grass outside the crawl space was weedy and scraggly, beaten down by lots of feet, suffering from a lack of water and fertilizer. Besides those of the occupants of the house, there must have been several additional pairs of feet yesterday, heavy men’s feet in heavy shoes.

  “The bike wasn’t on top of her,” Joseph said.

  “I don’t think so. I think she was on top of the bike.”

  “So it would appear that she came back from her bike ride and someone was waiting in the dark for her. She put the bike away, he killed her, and then he stuffed her body in the crawl space.”

  “Or she could have met him on her ride. Then she might have walked her bike home with him, not suspecting he intended to kill her.”

  Joseph looked thoughtful. “Both are possible. She knew him, she didn’t know him.”

  “He waited for her, he ran into her by accident.”

  Joseph laughed. “We aren’t doing very well, are we?”

  I walked around to the back of the house. There was a door to the deck from what must be the kitchen. As I looked up at the door, it opened and Danielle came out on the deck.

  “Chris?”

  “Hi. I’m just looking at the place where it happened.”

  “There isn’t much to see. They took the bicycle. I’m leaving in a little while. I was going to go this morning, but I didn’t want to get on a ferry with all the people going to the funeral. So I decided to wait for afternoon. Want to come inside?”

  “Sure. I have a friend with me.”

  The three of us sat at the kitchen table. Danielle looked awful. “I’m just waiting for Kyle to bring back the wagon and then I’ll go,” she said. “My boyfriend is upstairs stripping the beds and I’m cleaning out the fridge. The Kleins are coming tonight if you want to talk to them. I don’t know what they can tell you.”

  “I don’t know, either.”

  “That lawyer’s missing, isn’t she?”

  “It appears so.”

  “How could a woman have killed Tina? It’s crazy.”

  “Danielle, Jack and I are staying till Sunday. We’ll probably leave right after lunch. If you think of anything, if you hear anything, will you call? You can reach us at home Sunday night.”

  “I will. But there isn’t anything. I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “I need to connect Tina to Ken Buckley or his wife.” I didn’t say anything about the mysterious “Uncle Bill” of Chief La Coste’s story because it sounded so absurd.

  “I’ll call if I think of anything.”

  —

  We didn’t wait for Kyle. Danielle said he wasn’t leaving till the Kleins came. Devoted to the water, he wanted one last shot at the waves and the shells before leaving summer behind.

  Back at the house, Eddie had just awakened. He was warm and weepy, and I held him for a while until he was fully awake. A pretzel cheered him up and he gave Joseph a smile and said her name a couple of times to show he hadn’t forgotten. I put him in the stroller and we walked over to the Buckley house.

  Ida Bloom was at the funeral and the doors were locked, so we walked around the house as I pointed out to Joseph where the rooms were and where I was standing when Tina pushed her way through the crowd with the fireman’s coat over her.

  From there we walked over to Chief La Coste’s little house. He opened the door and beamed at Eddie. “So you came back to me, you little cutie,” he said, ruffling Eddie’s curls. “How are you, Chris? I see you’ve got a friend with you.”

  I introduced Joseph and we went inside. The chief gave Eddie a cookie, which probably made him Eddie’s friend for life. Then he said, “You don’t know how much I wanted to be at that funeral. I called Eve and she said, ‘Bernie, just stay put. It’s hard on all of us. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.’ She’s a good woman. So I stayed here, and I can’t stop thinkin’ about that wonderful friend I’ll never see again. All those conversations, all those good times, gone forever.”

  “What do you do for company in the winter, Chief?” I asked. We had sat in the living room and I was hoping Eddie would be content in his stroller. I didn’t want to let him crawl around on the chief’s floor.

  “There’s about twenty of us families that stay here all year round and we look after each other. We got a chain phone system going. Someone calls me in the morning to see how I’m doin’ and I call someone else. We’re a real community. We get to keep cars here, you know, after the summer’s over. I give my grocery list to some folks and they drive over the causeway from Robert Moses State Park to the mainland and deliver my stuff as right as rain. And I take my walks. Gotta stay fit, you know.”

  “The last of the summer people are on their way back today. It’ll be pretty empty without them.”

  “That’s how I like it best. The deer’11 make their way in from the park, lookin’ for something to eat. They get pretty hungry in the winter, poor things.”

  He seemed very low today and I couldn’t blame him. I hoped he would get through the winter, that his spirits would recover. />
  “Are they tame?” I asked.

  “Pretty tame. Some of them eat right outta your hand. Course they’re not very friendly to grass and flowers.” He smiled, then turned to Eddie and made faces at him. “I did what you told me to, Chris,” he said finally. “I called Curt and told him I had the turnout coat. He came by early and picked it up, said maybe they could remove the ink and find the name underneath. I thought indelible meant you couldn’t do that, but who knows? Seems like they can do almost anything nowadays.”

  “We visited the Hersheys a little while ago,” I said.

  “Hershey, Hershey…”

  “The people who live next door to where the big fire was.”

  “Oh yes, Hershey. Harry’s his name. She’s got some trouble walkin’ these last years.”

  “Those are the ones.”

  “Yeah, I guess they’ll never forget it either.”

  “Were you there to see the fire?”

  “Can’t keep me away from a fire, I’ll tell ya. I walked over, sure. They said you could see the flames at the western end of the island.”

  “Any chance it was arson, Chief?”

  He looked at me with sharp eyes. “What makes you ask that? The report said Mrs. Norris left something on the stove.”

  Joseph answered. “It seems strange to us that the Norrises left something on the stove in the afternoon and the fire started hours later.”

  “Happens all the time. Most fires around here are kitchen fires. Barbecue fires.” He shrugged. “Nothin’ unusual about that.”

  “Who was chief at that time?” I asked.

  “Well, let’s see. That was prob’ly Chief Rutledge, but I can tell you he wasn’t there. In those days, we had the big picnic around noon, after all the parades ended, and George Rutledge, he got on the ferry just as soon as the picnic was over. Hadda be at work Tuesday morning, so he left.”

  “Did someone stand in for him?”

  “I kinda recollect Ken Buckley was acting chief that day. Ken always stayed on till the end of the week.”

  Eddie had been watching him very intently. Now he pointed to Joseph and said, “Doe.” We laughed and explained it to the chief, who started a conversation with Eddie.