A Darker Shade of Blood

by Lawrence J Epstein

  “Now you’re ready for a committee assignment. Sure you want Ways and Means because that means controlling money and that means a lot of campaign contributions from people who want some of that money. In particular, Ways and Means writes the tax laws. You can see its power. But you won’t get it. You’re a freshman. You ask for it because it sets a marker. That’s where you eventually want to go. When you don’t get it, ask for Armed Services. Long Island has lots of military connections. Armed Services means people here will donate to you.

  “You’ll be sworn into office in early January. You may think the real work begins then. You plan legislation. You argue over policy. You’re going to fight for what you believe in. And so now you learn the hardest lesson as a new member of Congress.”

  Lucey put his head to one side.

  “Have a doughnut,” I said.

  He chewed his second doughnut more slowly than he had chewed the first.

  “What’s the hardest lesson, Danny?”

  “You have to focus.”

  “On what?”

  “On your most important job.”

  “Which is?”

  “Fundraising. Your second most important job is fundraising. Can you guess what your third most important job is?”

  “I can guess. It’s fundraising.”

  I nodded. “I told you the Chief of Staff is the second most important job on your staff. You also have to hire the most important person on the staff.”

  “My fundraiser.”

  “You’re learning fast. And I want to be precise. So there you are in early January. But you’re focused on one date.”

  “What’s that?”

  “March 31st. The most important staff member is the fundraiser who is focused on March 31st.”

  He stared at me.

  “Have I missed a national holiday?”

  “This is much more important than any old national holiday, sir. March 31st is your very first fundraising report to the Federal Election Commission. Your future depends on that report.”

  “Why does there have to be such an emphasis on money?”

  “What? You thought you were going to straighten out those jerks in Washington? You were going to solve the nation’s problems? You knew how to end poverty and disease. You’ll never get to talk to the jerks, much less influence them, without money. You don’t know it, sir, but you’ve already begun your re-election campaign. It’s time for smiling and dialing every day. Morning to night your mind is on raising money. The party will help you. They have experts on this stuff. But it’s on you. The first hire you make will guide you. No, he’ll say, that vote you’re making should be the other way because we can get some money. Don’t go to that meeting. Go to this one. You’ve believed X your whole life. Great. Now you believe Y because supporters of Y are ready to be big donors. You want to go to a party, to a concert, to dinner. You want to take a nap. Forget about it. Fundraise. March 31st is coming like a monster, and you’d better be ready. You’re lucky. The Hamptons are in your District. Wall Street isn’t far away. Get ready to travel to Chicago and California.”

  “And what happens on March 31st if I haven’t raised enough?”

  “The Party thinks you’re a loser. Terrible committee assignments are in your future. Challengers see you as vulnerable. Other members suddenly aren’t sitting with you at lunch.”

  “Why, exactly, did I want this job?”

  “You’ll ask yourself that more than once, sir.”

  We sat drinking coffee and making sure there would be no doughnuts left in the box.

  “Now?” he asked.

  “Now,” I said.

  Lucey nodded.

  “The story is a simple one, Danny. You know me.”

  “Just tell me what happened, sir. If I think you’re lying, I’m going to quit working for you.”

  He looked shocked but continued.

  “I drove to our home in Sag Harbor. I saw a strange car. It wasn’t in the driveway but on the street. It wasn’t my wife’s car. So I went inside. Marilyn Park was dead, lying on the ground covered in blood. I bent over to feel her pulse. She was dead.

  “I was frozen, Danny. I didn’t know what to do Maybe ten minutes later, though I am not sure about the time, my wife came into the house. She looked at me and at the body. She yelled at me asking why I had killed Marilyn. I told her I didn’t, but I don’t think she believed me.”

  He lowered his head. “I did a cowardly thing. I ran away. Katie said she’d face the police. I wouldn’t be there and so wouldn’t be involved.”

  “Did you see anyone else around the house? Maybe a strange car driving away?”

  He shook his head.

  “You have any idea about who did this?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to think about it, Danny. I know I didn’t kill her. I know what it looks like. My house. My blackmailer. The mother of a child I have now adopted, a child I had taken from its birth mother illegally before the adoption.”

  His face dropped.

  “It looks bad, doesn’t it, Danny?”

  “Yes, sir. Very bad.”

  “Are they going to arrest me?”

  “I think they will at least question you.”

  “At least I won’t have to fundraise. On March 31st I’ll probably be in jail.”

  “Not if I can help it, sir.”

  “Tell me you have some ideas.”

  “I do.”

  “Danny, my mother wants to speak with you.”

  “And I want to speak with her. She does pay my salary after all.”

  “This is all very awkward, isn’t it?”

  “Is your mother at the family home in Old Field?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please tell her I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “And from there?”

  “I’ve got an appointment with a Rabbi for a friend of mine. And then a woman I know. Meanwhile, my team will be searching. We’ll find something. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  I left him.

  I thought he was waiting until I had gone to cry.

  The night air was very cold and dry. I thought of going over to see my father but I didn’t feel like talking to anyone so I went home.

  Betsy Revere was still up.

  We sat together in the dark.

  She took my hand as though I were a small boy in need of a mother’s love.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  After the Congressman I had worked for wasn’t re-elected, Ken Lucey, the victor, offered me a job as a fixer. I declined it. And it was then that Gertrude Lucey, the Congressman-elect’s mother, had come up with a neat solution. She was wealthy and decided to start a small agency with me, Ari, and Betsy.

  It was a perfect opportunity for us, and we accepted.

  I was seated at the Lucey home. Gertrude, now using a cane, walked into the room, stared at me, and sat down. Her thick, white hair was, as always, neatly done. She reminded me of a wisdom juke box. Name a subject and metaphorically push a button. Intelligent and thoughtful words on the subject would come from her. Some people found her too direct and too harsh, but we got along very well. I liked direct.

  “Would you like to bring that box of chocolates over to me, please, Mr. Ryle?”

  “I expect a tip.”

  “Now you have me thinking of ways to manipulate you to take one for yourself, one with a nut in it. I don’t like those.”

  “I don’t think you need help in developing a complex mind.”

  “I fear you’re right. Okay, Mr. Ryle. Please recall that you are speaking to your employer, who has a well-honed ability to detect deception and a deep distaste for it in her employees.”

  “Understood, Mrs. Lucey.”

  She waved a dismissive hand at me.

  “Now that there’s a second Mrs. Lucey, one I dislike intensely, those words don’t sound as good as they once did.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Being sorry is for the weak, Mr. Ryle
. I hired you because you’re strong. Now tell me what kind of a horrid mess my son has gotten us into.”

  “He may have killed Marilyn Park.”

  “She well deserved it, but it doesn’t make sense that he’d do it in our house. He surely wouldn’t want to get caught. You said ‘he may have killed’ her. Did he or didn’t he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mr. Ryle, I’d buy a weasel if I wanted to see evasion. Did he kill her?”

  “I think he did. I think the police will think he did. But there’s a wrinkle.”

  “He swore to me he found her body there.”

  “He might be telling the truth.”

  “And you’re going to investigate?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are there other suspects?”

  “Yes. The father of the child and someone else Park may have blackmailed.”

  “Do you know who the father is?”

  “No.”

  “Or who else was blackmailed?”

  “No.”

  “That sounds extremely disappointing.”

  “We’re working on that.”

  “How wonderful.”

  She ate two more pieces of chocolate. Then she tapped her fingers on a table next to her.

  “You say you think the police will arrest him. There will be a trial?”

  “There’s another wrinkle, Mrs. Lucey.”

  “So you say. I hate wrinkles, in every sense of the word. What’s this other wrinkle?”

  “Your daughter-in-law.”

  “She tricked him into marrying her. A trick used since cavemen roamed the Earth. She told him she was pregnant. And then, poor girl, she lost her imaginary baby. But it was too late. Ken was trapped.” A pause. “You’ve spoken with her.”

  “Yes.”

  “Better you than me. I prefer not to speak with her. What’s her story?”

  “She walked in while Ken was looking over the body. She told me if the police arrest Ken that she will confess to save his political career.”

  Mrs. Lucey looked shocked.

  “Every year I live I get fewer surprises. I’ve grown to understand and accept the punches that life throws. But I must say I did not expect this. Katie is a selfish woman. And that’s being kind. She does want Ken to succeed, but only so she can tell her college friends that she married a Congressman and they didn’t. I honestly don’t understand why she would do this.”

  “She may not, Mrs. Lucey. Her reaction may have been spontaneous and when she faces the reality of jail, she might well decide that her husband will be able to handle it better than she can.”

  “Now, that sounds like Katie.”

  “I’m just telling you all there is to know.”

  “Why do you think he did it?”

  “Circumstances. I wouldn’t figure him as a killer. But the campaign put him under a lot of pressure. The blackmail attempt may have pushed him over the edge. As I say, though, I consider myself a pretty good judge of people and on that basis I’d say he might be innocent. I want him to be innocent. But then I have to look at the stubborn facts. That’s what the cops and the D.A.’s office will do. The body is in his house. She was blackmailing him. He certainly has the strength to stab her to death.”

  “Means, motive, and opportunity, Mr. Ryle.”

  “Exactly. They won’t know him as a decent and good man the way I do. And even I have to face what I’m looking at. They’ll just look at what’s there. And I’m afraid for what they’ll conclude.”

  “You told him you know a good attorney for this sort of trial.”

  “I do. He’s in Port Jefferson.”

  “Tell him not to plan any vacations.”

  “I’ve already spoken with him.”

  “I want you to promise me you will keep looking for those other suspects.”

  “I do promise.”

  “It’s not easy being a parent, Mr. Ryle. You never grow out of the job.”

  “I will not abandon your son, Mrs. Lucey. Ever.”

  A simple nod.

  “You did a good job with that kidnapped young girl.”

  “Thank you. That’s the sort of help I had in mind when I started. I didn’t understand the depth and darkness of the world I wanted to make better.”

  “That’s why so many people live in a kind of childhood of the mind, Mr. Ryle. The real world is too dark and tangled for decent people. We need people like you to take care of us.”

  “I can’t protect everyone, Mrs. Lucey.”

  “You can try.”

  Mrs. Lucey leaned forward. Her forehead wrinkled.

  “Mr. Ryle, I believe a family’s secrets deserve to remain within the family.”

  I nodded, not sure what she was talking about.

  “You are very trustworthy. You have proved that. You’ve also proved loyal to my son. Even your frankness with me is a form of loyalty. That’s very admirable. I hereby make you an honorary member of the family.”

  “You have a secret you wish to tell me, Mrs. Lucey?”

  “I do. It may be important or it may not, but I think you should know it.”

  “Go ahead.”

  It took her a few more seconds to begin.

  “The race for Congress, the politics, the adoption, and other matters have proven to be more difficult than I expected. There is, I fear, some increased emotional distance between Ken and me.” She didn’t want to say it, but she didn’t not want to say it. Then it came out. “My son Ken, the First District of New York’s new member of Congress, is in love with another woman. They are very discreet. There will be no publicity and no scandal. In the privacy of this room, and against every moral fiber I ever had, I am not unhappy about this. Oh, I feel moral revulsion at the very idea of unfaithfulness. But, as I mentioned, I do not like Katie. I could spend an hour going into her weaknesses as a human being and I would have only begun. I understand my son’s distaste for her. They were planning a divorce. Katie didn’t mind. She doesn’t love Ken. She does love his money and now his power, his new title of Congressman. That in fact is why they delayed the divorce. They didn’t want their personal relationship to become part of the campaign. That, Mr. Ryle, is what baffles me while I sit here. Why, in Heaven’s name, would she do as you suggest and take the blame for murder? It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “It makes sense, Mrs. Lucey. We just don’t understand the sense.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I curse the day my son met her. All right, Mr. Ryle, I expect you to use your brain and work through all this. I am tired. You may go now.”

  I nodded to her and got up and left.

  It wasn’t a very far drive to my home.

  Ari and Betsy were playing chess. Ari was an expert, but Betsy refused to give up easily.

  “There’s a turkey sandwich in the refrigerator,” Betsy said.

  I needed it.

  After I ate the sandwich, I called them to sit around the kitchen table.

  I went over all my conversations.

  “Betsy, Ari and I are going to see a Rabbi. While we’re gone, I’d like you to push on the research.”

  “How do I even begin?”

  “For the father of the child, talk to Marilyn’s friends and co-workers. See what they know. Check her telephone records in the months before her death. For someone else she may have blackmailed, check her bank account for a year back. Look for sudden deposits. Try to track who gave her checks. Let’s hope they didn’t pay in cash.”

  “All right. It may take a while.”

  “I know.”

  “It may cost money.”

  “The Lucey family will pay whatever it takes.”

  Ari was getting nervous.

  “We’re going to see Rabbi London now.”

  Betsy nodded. “I’m going to begin making contacts and gathering materials.”

  I put my coat on.

  Betsy came over to me and put a hand on my arm.

  “Take care of yourself, Danny.”
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br />   I gave a confused smile and went out the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Rabbi Benjamin London was seated in his study. He was framed by a floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall bookcase. His beard was thinning. His cheeks were hollow. His hand was shaking. He tried to steady it by holding a pen. He looked like death marching inevitably toward the graveyard.

  He spread his arms out. “Once I started, I never stopped reading. So many books. So much comfort.”

  Ari said, “I wouldn’t remember half of what I read.”

  “You don’t have to remember. It’s in your brain. Reading makes you a fuller person. It magnifies who you are. Sometimes I remember the bookstores where I’ve been. I remember the ones I loved the best. I remember walking home as a child being excited about a new book I had gotten. Those days are over now, though. My eyes make it difficult to read. That is the saddest part of my life.”

  The Rabbi sat quietly. He should have retired. He clearly didn’t have the strength to be holding a job. He should have been at home praying and planning.

  Ari looked at him. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “There’s nothing between the personal and the professional in my life. What is your question, Ari?”

  “What do you think is going to happen when you die?”

  I thought Rabbi London would be insulted and upset, but he considered the question carefully. “I don’t know how many months I have left, but naturally I think about your question a lot. At one point I would have said my soul will be in a resting place and then when the Messiah comes my soul will be reunited with my body and I will become alive again. Later I thought my soul will go to a golden house in Heaven where I will study the Talmud and the Bible and discuss my thoughts with great scholars.”

  “And now, Rabbi?”

  There was a giant sigh.

  “And now I think when I die there will just be the dullest darkness. I will know and feel nothing. My brief period of life will never be again. Do you have any idea how sad this makes me? I cry, longing for my religious self to return. Is that too difficult to hear, Ari?”