The Hidden Hand of Death

by Lawrence J Epstein

  “And I like being with you. I know everyone says this to you, Gloria, but you really are a very beautiful woman. Like a Hollywood star.”

  “Oh, I’m okay, but not like a star.”

  “Yes. You really are. It would mean a lot to me to be close to you.”

  “Oh, Mr. Miles. I was raised a strict Baptist. I couldn’t get close to you in the way you mean.”

  “Why not, Gloria?”

  “I know she’s missing, but you still have a wife.”

  “What if I didn’t have a wife? Could we get close then?”

  “Oh, now you’re playing a pretend game with me.”

  “So play along, Gloria. Pretend for a moment that I wasn’t married. Can you see getting close then?”

  “This is just a pretend game, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “All right, Mr. Miles as long as we’re pretending, you’re real good-looking and you care about me. I can tell. Only, no offense meant, but I don’t want to get close to anyone for just a night. I could make a lot of money if I was willing to do that. I told you I make appointments. I just said that because men like it. They think they can get an appointment with me. But I’m not that kind of girl at all.

  “I want to get married. I want to give myself to only one man. Kind of worship him. Do what he says. Try to please him. Can you understand that?”

  “Sure.”

  “But it shouldn’t matter to you, Mr. Miles. I mean we’re only pretending.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Gloria. And I mean this seriously. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, way more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever dated. You say you want to be with one man.”

  Miles sounded as though he stood up and sat down again. Gloria must have recognized a nervous man when she saw one. She had surely seen plenty of them. Maybe she even thought that I would be pleased by the way the conversation was going.

  “I’d like to be the one man you’ll be with, Gloria. Just us. We’d travel the world. I’d show you off not only to my friends but also to the whole world. We’d gamble and swim. We would never stop having fun.”

  “You talk pretty, Mr. Miles, but I think it’s time we stopped playing this game. It’s pretend, remember? You’re still married.”

  “Gloria, I have a secret to tell you. Are you good at keeping secrets?”

  “I’m the best Mr. Miles. I learned that when I was young. My mama used to tell me secrets, and I never told, not to a soul. So tell me. What is your secret?”

  “I don’t have a wife any more.”

  “But Mr. Ryder is looking for her. He thinks she’s alive. He’s paying me to help him.”

  “It’s a game I’m playing with Mr. Ryder.”

  “If that’s true, then what happened to your wife?”

  “She died. It was very sad. Some heart illness. She was pretty young.”

  “Why don’t you tell people?”

  “I want to be honest with you, Gloria. My business is worth a lot of money. If women knew I was really single, they’d swarm all over me. I’d have to swat them away. They’re after my money, you see. But I know you.”

  “Mr. Miles, no offense, but I heard a million lies in my life. I’m not saying you’re adding to the list. But if your wife is dead, where is she buried?”

  Miles laughed.

  “You shouldn’t be so suspicious. But I’ll tell you. She’s buried in the cemetery a mile west of my car dealership. It’s a private cemetery. We buried her there under a false name to keep those women who wanted to marry me away.”

  “What was the name you used to bury her?”

  Gloria was pushing too fast. But she was new at this. I worried that Miles would get suspicious.

  “You’ll laugh.”

  I was relieved. He didn’t get suspicious at all. It was the power of lust at work.

  “I could use a laugh, Mr. Miles.”

  “All right. We buried her under the name Martha Washington. Go look in the cemetery. You can see for yourself. Ask to see ‘Martha Washington’s’ records. You’ll see that my lawyer arranged for it all.”

  I could picture him rubbing his right hand through his hair.

  “So you see, Gloria. I’m really not married. We can be together. Isn’t that great?”

  It was time for Detective Hill and me to break up their little party. I met him and went through the front door.

  Miles had his mouth open.

  Good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I looked at the two of them and said, “The air raid drill is over. You two don’t have to stay in the dark.”

  Miles dashed toward the door.

  His brother-in-law tripped him.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Gerald.”

  Miles, looking miserable, picked himself up and sat in a chair.

  I put all the lights on.

  Miles said, “I miss my wife and I wanted to have fun. Shoot me. That’s all that was going on here.”

  “Gloria, was that all?” I asked.

  “No, Mr. Ryder. He said his wife is dead and buried. He wanted me…oh, I can hardly say it. He wanted me to be with him.”

  “She’s lying. It’s her word against mine. I’m a businessman with a good reputation. I give a lot to cops and politicians.”

  He was starting at Hill.

  “And she’s nothing but a cheap call-girl. Whose word are you going to take? Both of you.”

  I walked over to the table and reached into the vase of flowers.

  “Aren’t we lucky, Miles. We don’t have to take anyone’s word. My friend Vinny was kind enough to place a recording device here. I mean Gloria was all alone. He wanted to offer her some protection.”

  I took out the recording device, rewound the tape, and played it.

  “I was just showing off,” Miles said. “None of that is true. She was pretty, and I wanted to impress her.”

  Detective Hill walked over to Miles and punched him across the jaw. Miles collapsed to the ground.

  I stood over him. “See Miles, what we’re going to do is dig up this Martha Washington. We’ll see whose body it is. We’ll see how she died. Maybe it was from natural causes. Maybe she died at Valley Forge if it’s the real Martha Washington. But if it’s your wife we’ll figure it out. Maybe her death was from lead poisoning. By which I mean a bullet. We’ll get at the truth Miles.”

  “But she’s been seen around.”

  “We’ll find out who exactly it is that has been seen.”

  “You’ve got no proof. You can’t arrest me.”

  “You watch, Gerald,” Hill said, “You watch how quickly I can arrest you. I’ve got a couple of patrolmen waiting outside. They’re going to show you what the inside of a jail looks like.”

  I said, “Gloria, why don’t you go now? Take care of yourself. You want to look pretty for court.”

  Gloria nodded and walked out.

  I said, “Detective, let me talk to him for a minute, will you?”

  “Yeah, sure. If you give him a couple of black eyes and a bloody nose I can promise I won’t notice.”

  “I’m just going to talk.”

  “I don’t like leaving you alone with him.”

  “I caught him didn’t I?”

  “I suppose so.”

  Detective Hill left the room.

  I pulled a chair over and sat next to Miles.

  “Listen, your brother-in-law won’t give you a break. I’m sort of in this line of work.”

  “You’re a detective right?”

  “I call myself a fixer. I make things all right.”

  “You’ve killed people. I asked about you.”

  “I’ve killed people who deserved to be killed.”

  “You’re not going to kill me now, are you?”

  “No, Miles. Believe it or not, I’m here to help you.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “Listen carefully. No one else is going to tell you this. You killed your wife. Don’t bother d
enying it, just listen. I’m not telling you to confess. I’m telling you that for your own good you should listen.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Nobody can keep you out of jail. And nobody can give you a much shorter sentence. But you cooperate and you will get years cut. But that’s only part of what’s important.”

  “What are you talking about, Ryder?”

  “There’s all kinds of jails and prisons, Miles. You go to a bad one, you’ll get beaten up an hour after you get there. You’ll be afraid to sleep at night. Someone will come after you. Some prisons got people with no hope. They like to hurt the new prisoners.

  “But there’s other kinds of places, Miles. You could work in the library. The other inmates in those other kinds of places, they’re not killers. Maybe they stole some money or chiseled investors out of their dough. But they don’t kill.

  “Guess which kind of prison you want to go to, Miles?”

  “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “You think you can trust the system? You think you can trust your brother-in-law?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Information. I want to know how she died. What undertaker you used. I want to know about her being seen.”

  “And if I tell you?”

  “Then you go to a nice prison.”

  “You got a good line, Ryder. You could have been some shyster. I think you’re crazy. A prison is a prison. Nobody’s going to give me a break. And inside I know how to take care of myself.”

  I looked at Miles and felt sorry for him. I’ve seen big strong men in prison crying like babies, begging me to find a way for them to get out.

  “Your choice, Mr. Miles. Remember when you had that choice.”

  “I have a question.”

  “What is it?”

  “That girl Gloria. She your girlfriend?”

  “Nope. She was just helping.”

  “You made a good choice. I like fell to little pieces the first time I saw her.”

  “I’ll give her a bonus.”

  I called for Hill to come back.

  The Detective came with two men in uniforms.

  “Mr. Miles is ready to change his world.”

  The cops led him away.

  I ran downstairs.

  I had work to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  First, I grabbed Hill.

  “I need the list of places where your sister was supposedly seen.”

  “I have it, just like you asked.”

  Hill reached into his jacket, pulled out the list, and gave it to me.

  “You’ve got to take care of her body in the cemetery,” he said.

  I nodded. “I know. It will get done.”

  I went outside to a public phone.

  “Hi, Tommy.”

  “I heard you were having money troubles.”

  “Did I ever cheat you, Tommy?”

  “Not yet. I want to keep it that way.”

  “This is for a homicide detective. You think you want to pile up a favor?”

  “I suppose so. Tell me what it is you want.”

  I gave him the address of the car dealership. “There’s a private cemetery a mile or so from there. There’s a woman buried there with the fake name of Martha Washington.”

  “Weren’t they original?”

  “We’re not talking about a criminal genius here.”

  “All right. So what do you want?”

  “Find out who made the arrangements. It was some lawyer for a Gerald Miles who owns the dealership. I want to know all the details. The funeral home that handled it. How arrangements were made with the cemetery.”

  “I can tell you how arrangements were made. Somebody paid a lot of money.”

  “I know, but I need details. Like going to court details.”

  “I don’t want my name in this, Ryder.”

  “It won’t be. You’re just getting me the information. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah. I suppose so.”

  “Don’t suppose. Just do it.”

  I hung up and called Vinny.

  “Ryder, you keep asking me for favors you’re gonna owe a lot of money. Money I take it you don’t have.”

  “You’re going to be dealing with me and not a homicide detective, Vinny.”

  “And how would a homicide detective get my name?”

  “He’s going to check with you and all your friends.”

  “Why?”

  “His sister was killed. He’s not going to stop. He’s going to run over anybody who gets in his way. You do this with me he never has to look. He never has to go near you. I’ll make sure your friends know you saved them from a very unpleasant visit from a very angry homicide detective.”

  A sigh.

  “Tell me what you need, Ryder.”

  “There was a woman named Daisy Miles. She was seen walking around town shopping and cashing checks. This was a particularly difficult task because she was dead and buried at the time.”

  “So what is going on?”

  “I think her husband, who killed her, hired someone. Maybe an actress. And this phony did the shopping and cashing. I have a list of where she was seen.”

  “I get it, but what is it exactly you want me to do?”

  “Check where an actress could be hired. I’ll get you pictures of the real wife. They found someone who looked like her. Maybe the actress was at a model agency or was somebody completely ordinary, but I think it’s an actress he would have hired. She had to pretend. She had checks. My guess is they were already signed so forgery wouldn’t be an issue.”

  “And what about the places where she showed up?”

  “As I said, I have the list of places. It’s a relatively short list. I want one of your men to check half the list tomorrow. I’ll check the other half.”

  “Done. Be here tomorrow morning at 9 and we’ll start.”

  “Thanks, Vinny.”

  “You really hurting in the money department?”

  “I really am.”

  “This one’s on the house.”

  “You’re a good man, Vinny.”

  “Last time someone said that to me I was six. And they were wrong then.”

  I showed up at Vinny’s early the next morning, armed with pictures of Daisy Miles and a list for Vinny’s man of the places to check.

  After dropping off the materials, I started walking.

  Two stores proved unhelpful. The odds were long. I guessed that many of their customers looked vaguely like Daisy Miles. And then they’d have to remember one who cashed a check. I knew it was a long shot. I didn’t have a choice.

  After the two failures, I walked into a jewelry store.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I’m a private detective helping the homicide department of the New York City police. Have you seen this woman?”

  The clerk blinked several times after I had said “homicide.”

  “She looks like a lot of customers, sir.”

  “She’s been here within the last couple of weeks.”

  The clerk called, “Sylvie. Could you come here please?”

  A small, intelligent-looking woman walked over.

  “Sylvie takes care of such customers.”

  “You mean women who look like they have a lot of money.”

  “I mean customers who deserve special care.”

  “Same thing,” I said.

  Sylvie was looking at the picture.

  “There was a woman like this. Only she wore sunglasses and a hat with a wide brim. I…She kept turning away, as though she didn’t want me to see her face. But she was a little different from this woman.”

  “I’m not trying to scare you, but if you had to testify in court would you say that beyond a shadow of a doubt the woman in the picture was the woman you served?”

  “I’d say that beyond a shadow of a doubt the woman I served was close to this woman but was a different person. Would it help you if I said she had a beauty mark to the side of her righ
t eye?”

  “It would help tremendously.”

  “I noticed it only when she took off her sunglasses. I’m guessing she wore the sunglasses so no one would see it. It was too easy a mark of identification.”

  “I think maybe you’re the real detective in this conversation,” I said. “Could I use your phone?”

  The clerk nodded and led me to a back room.

  I called Vinny to give him information about the beauty mark.

  “You’re making my job too easy, Ryder. I’ll track her down.”

  I asked some other questions and then moved on to the two other places on his list. Nobody in those stores could provide a positive identification.

  I waited a few hours and then went over to Vinny’s.

  “I have your actress, Ryder. The beauty mark in the description made it easy. There was another actress. But she was too old. This one does sort of look like the picture you gave me. I have her in the place next door. I said you’d pay for information.”

  “With what money?”

  Vinny handed me a hundred dollar bill.

  “I may have overcharged you a couple of times. This makes up for it.”

  I looked at him.

  “Thanks, Vinny.”

  Vinny nodded.

  I walked over to the store.

  She was in a booth of red leather. She wore the sunglasses and the floppy hat she used when she imitated Daisy Miles. The store was dilapidated. There were cuts in the leather booths. The floor was layered with grease.

  I looked around. I always checked all entrances and exits and looked at the people wherever I was. Here there were three older women laughing and having fun. I thought they would have made good killers because they looked so innocent. There was a mother with two boys. One of the boys had trouble sitting still. And then there were two men. They were seated at the counter, their backs to me. I noticed them because both of their backs were wide. It was warm out but they kept their jackets on. I would look at them every ten seconds.

  I sat down opposite the actress.

  “You Ryder?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Call me Mary. That’s not my name. I don’t want you to know my name.”

  “That’s odd, Mary. I thought actresses wanted the whole world to know their name.”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  A waitress came over.

  “Two coffees,” I said. I didn’t want the woman to know that I couldn’t afford any food.