“In my right front pocket.”
Ari came over and took it out. Moss didn’t move.
I flipped through it. Moss was very thorough. I turned to the right date.
“You were in New York City. There’s a drawing of some animal.”
“That’s me being cute. My wife wanted to see Cats. It opened in October. It was at the Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway. At 50th Street. I remember that.”
“Who was with you?”
“My wife. Her sister. My worthless brother-in-law.”
“Where were you before that?’
We were in the City the whole day. My sister-in-law teaches art. So we went to MoMA. She’s seen The Starry Night like fifty times. I don’t care much for art. But it was a nice picture.”
“I’m sure Van Gogh would be pleased.”
He looked confused.
“What about after the Museum of Modern Art?”
“We had dinner. Terrible food, but at least it cost a lot.”
“And then the play?”
“Yes.”
“And after the play?”
“We stayed at a hotel. My brother-in-law picked it out. It was dirty.”
“You have records for all this?”
He looked confused.
“Why do you want to know about what we did?”
“We’re interested in the theater.”
He knew he wasn’t getting an answer.
“I do have records.”
And probably plenty of witnesses, although I didn’t ask about them.
I turned to look at Ari and Betsy.
“All right. We’re going to leave now, Mr. Moss. You wait a half hour and then you call a taxi and go home. You don’t tell anyone that we were here. Do you know the meaning of the word ‘anyone’?”
“It’s very clear.”
“Good. Because we wouldn’t want to make a return visit.”
“And I wouldn’t want you to.”
“I’m glad we agree.”
I untied his hands but left the rope around his legs.
“Sit there for fifteen minutes. Then untie yourself.”
“And fifteen minutes after I untie myself I can leave.”
“Your math is perfect. We have an understanding?”
“Yes we do.”
Ari and I went out, and we drove home.
I wasn’t going to say it, but Betsy wasn’t so reluctant.
“I think Congressman-elect Lucey killed her, Danny.”
I didn’t have the strength to argue with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Thanksgiving came and went. I usually felt some emotional warmth celebrating a day to appreciate what I had. But that day, I felt empty and wanting. I felt incapable of grasping a murder or understanding how family works.
I envied those who had the solace of belief. But I’m a seeker and not a believer. I look and read and think and talk. I can’t accept a list of what my mind is supposed to accept.
Each day got darker a little bit earlier.
And so did I.
One good piece of news was that Rabbi London had more tests and was doing well. He was strong enough to take the Long Island Railroad into New York each week for treatment. He said he was grateful that he’d feel pain for longer than he’d been told. He said it was a sign of life, and he accepted it.
Ken Lucey went to Washington for his swearing-in and orientation. His wife was working her way through the legal system. Evidently, her lawyer wanted a trial for some reason. Maybe he was hoping she would withdraw her confession or he had another theory of the case. Perhaps, I thought, he would try to throw a spotlight on my boss.
My relationships with women were not enviable. Hannah found a new boyfriend. There were rumors that a wedding was in their future. Betsy was around every day, but I had no feelings for her other than as a business partner.
She, on the other hand, made it clear that she wanted a closer relationship with me. One afternoon, while Ari had gone to the gym, I sat down with her.
“Betsy, we need to talk.”
“That sounds ominous, Danny. Talking is supposed to be comforting. Maybe you mean we need to yell. Or we need to hurt each other. Is that what you mean by talking?”
“I mean we respect each other enough to be honest.”
“You make ‘talk’ and ‘honest’ sound bad.”
“I want to be direct with you. Is that all right?”
“Let me get my mental flak jacket on.” She paused for two seconds. “Okay. Fire away.”
“It’s not that dramatic. You know Hannah and I are finished. I’m at a stage where I don’t want any kind of romantic relationship with anyone.”
“I only see me here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This isn’t going well.”
“You know I like you. Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you?”
“Of course.”
“How did it feel?”
“I felt as though I was in perpetual pain.”
“Oh, good. You do know. So thanks for letting me carry around this pain all the time.”
“Do you want to get another job?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course not, Betsy.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“Keep doing your job and look for a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, they’re lining up on the porch waiting for me to open the door.”
“You’re smart. You’re pretty. They will be there.”
“If I’m so smart and pretty, why aren’t you interested, Danny?”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Ah. Finally we reach a point of agreement.” She stopped talking for a few seconds. “I’m sorry. That was cheap. I like working with you guys. The truth is I love it. There is someone I used to work with who keeps calling me. Only I don’t like him. You see the irony? How come that is? I want someone. He wants someone. How come I can’t love him?”
“Cupid shoots twisted arrows.”
She nodded. “That he does.”
We hugged. She went upstairs.
Ari came back and saw my face.
“What? Life got worse? I don’t think that’s possible.”
We went to a Chinese place in Centereach. It was in a plaza, right at the end of a row of stores. Ari and I liked it because they had a buffet. They lost money on Ari. He was king of the chicken wings. I wouldn’t be surprised if Long Island chickens had a wanted poster with Ari’s picture on it.
My father always sat with his back facing the wall and with a good view of the front door. I hadn’t picked up that habit, but at that moment I was sorry I didn’t.
I saw a shadow before I saw the man.
I looked up.
Then I spoke calmly.
“Mr. Arnold, why don’t you put that weapon down?”
There was, at the moment, some panic in the restaurant. People were running outside. Some gave a pretty good blood-curdling yell. Parents grabbed children and put them under their arms.
Arnold turned out not to be in a cooperative mood.
He waved the weapon. His whole body was shaking as he stared at me.
“You ruined my life. You took my little girl from me. Then you forced me to go away. You made my wife scared of me.”
I didn’t think that was a good moment to discuss the nature of responsibility, so I said, “I’m sorry for all the troubles you’ve had. I’m sure we can fix all this if you’ll only put the gun down and talk.”
Betsy told me never to use the word “gun.” The Marines in World War II had a little song they made recruits sing if they called their weapon a gun. The song was obscene. Betsy threatened to force me to sing it if I made the mistake. But I didn’t think that was the moment to be correct. I was trying to be clear.
Arnold wasn’t proud of my clarity. He raised the weapon and then put it halfway down until it was aimed directly at my chest.
He fired.
I expected to be l
ying on the floor pondering what it would be like on the other side of death, wondering if I would meet my mother again, which seemed like a fair trade if I was going to die.
Only I didn’t fall down on the floor.
The bullet never reached me.
Ari had leaped in front of me and taken the bullet in his shoulder.
He fell down.
Three of the waiters jumped on Arnold. He was on the ground crying.
“You’re shot!” I screamed at Ari.
“I can see why you’re such a good detective, Danny. You never miss anything.”
“But...Ari. You’re shot.”
“What? You think this is the first time I’ve ever been shot? You could teach children arithmetic by having them count the bullet scars on my legs. I’ll be okay. Maybe, though, instead of talking to me you should ask one of the people who run this establishment to call an ambulance.”
“Of course. Sorry.”
I ran to the man who was wearing a tuxedo. He assured me he had already called the police and told them we needed an ambulance. He was considerably more upset than Ari.
An ambulance arrived a few minutes later along with two police vehicles. Two of the people in the ambulance rushed over to Ari.
He told them the weapon and the caliber of the bullet.
They stopped the bleeding. Then they put him on a stretcher and put him in the ambulance.
I talked to one of the cops and gave a statement. I saw that the other officer had arrested Arnold. The waiters were talking quickly in Chinese. They had a story they would enjoy telling their families but one they would never tell the customers.
I followed the ambulance to the nearest hospital and waited with Ari in the emergency room. Nurses rushed to him. He ended up with a date with one named Rita. Wounded, his love life was better than mine.
We were there for seven hours. The doctors were good. Ari’s body was cooperative. The bullet came right out. Ari said, no, he didn’t want it as a souvenir.
They gave him some tests and finally said he could go home if he rested.
Yeah, they sure knew Ari.
Betsy ran up to us. “Where have you been? I was worried sick. Ari, are you all right?” She was staring at his bandage.
“The guy was way too nervous to shoot straight. He had no firepower. He wouldn’t have lasted in the IDF for five minutes.”
Betsy couldn’t quite take it all in.
“You must be hungry. I’ll cook you some salami and eggs.”
“I want a hamburger, fries, and a chocolate shake.”
I commented about how Ari had truly become American. Then I went out and got him what he wanted.
We spent the evening talking and watching television. We all wanted to turn in early.
Before I went to sleep, I got a call from Congressman-elect Lucey’s mother, Gertrude.
“Danny, are you all right? Excuse me, but you don’t sound good.”
I told her about Ari, assured her that Ari was fine, and asked what she wanted.
“It’s about the trial. It is moving along much faster than we expected. It’s going to the jury tomorrow afternoon. Katie never took back her confession. But it’s funny. Don Edwards just proceeded as if there had been no confession, as though she was accused and he wanted her found not guilty. Please be there. Maybe at three p.m. But maybe they will postpone it.”
“I’ll be there, Mrs. Lucey.” I paused. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Someone arranged for our friend Rabbi London to get special treatment at Sloan-Kettering. Were you the one who did that?”
“I wish I had, Danny, but no. It sounds as though it’s the sort of thing a Congressman-elect or someone in his office could do. Perhaps Ken didn’t have a chance to tell you. He’s coming back tonight if you want to ask.”
“I’m sure I’ll see him tomorrow in court.”
“That you will.”
We said good-night to each other.
I was too exhausted to fall asleep. Images and thoughts used my brain as a pinball machine.
I watched as minutes passed on the clock beside my bed.
I did eventually fall asleep for a few hours without realizing it.
But I woke up early.
I decided to go out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I felt a comfort in ritual. I got some hot chocolate and a doughnut. The combination usually made me feel better.
Gypsy Davy was outside. A cold spell had come through, and he was shaking in his wheelchair. I got him his usual meal and gave him some money.
“Dave, it’s just getting too cold.”
“I know. The manager inside goes back and forth. Sometimes he tells me to leave. He says the customers get scared of me. Like being in a wheelchair is catching. And then other times he’s nicer. He told me he’s going to round up a blanket for me.”
I stood there, shivering myself and eating the doughnut and sipping the hot chocolate. I felt sorry for Gypsy Davy.
“Dave, you need to stay inside. There are places.”
“Thank you, Danny. As a matter of fact, I ran into a guy. He was in country though not near where I was. He runs a motel nearby. He says I can stay in any empty rooms and if there aren’t any, which there will be in the winter, I can stay in the office. I’m moving in on Thursday, so that’s not so bad.”
“No, Dave, it isn’t. I...”
I just stood there staring. The idea roaming around my brain had returned. Only now I could see it. Not completely, but pretty close. I don’t know why it popped out at that second. I had heard the word a thousand times. I don’t know why it just sounded differently when Gypsy Davy said it.
I reached into my wallet and gave Dave fifty dollars.
“You trying for Heaven there, Danny?”
“It’s too late for me. You just gave me an idea, soldier.”
He sat up straight. Being a soldier is what made him proudest.
“You’ve got to excuse me. I need someplace to sit down.”
I ran inside, ordered a coffee and some food, took twenty napkins, and sat in a booth.
I sipped and ate and thought. And then thought again.
I took out my pen and began drawing on the napkins. I tried diagrams, but that didn’t work, so I thought of a time frame. I would need to know the chronology. But some of it didn’t make sense. I needed to pace, only if I did that in the restaurant I’d look unhinged. I did it anyway.
The manager did come over to me.
“Sir, are you all right?”
“I sure am. Bear with me. I’m trying to solve a murder.”
For some reason, that statement didn’t provide comfort to the manager.
“I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave, sir.”
“I’ll make a deal,” I said. “Give me another half-hour.” I reached for my wallet and gave him all I had left. “For as long as this lasts give people free coffee. Deal?”
He looked at the money.
“As long as you don’t pace.”
“I’ll sit perfectly still. You won’t even notice that I’m here.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
I sat back down. The crucial problem I couldn’t solve was coming into hazy focus, working through my brain with the determination of a long-distance runner. My mind was walking. And then jogging. And then it sprinted to the finish line. I had it. I took a deep breath and a long sip of water. I went over it all. The chronology made perfect sense.
All I needed now was some proof.
I rushed home.
First, I went to the files and looked through until I found the two pictures I wanted. I was sure of the importance of one of the pictures but not at all sure of the importance of the other. But without it, I couldn’t figure out a motive.
Then I called Betsy and Ari to the kitchen table. It was our Situation Room, the conference room in the basement of the West Wing in the White House. The President and his staff go the
re when there is a foreign or domestic crisis.
We surely had a crisis.
When we were ready, I said, “You need to help me prove a theory. It won’t make sense if I explain it without that proof. It started with Gypsy Davy, a Viet Nam vet who is in a wheelchair. We were talking this morning when he told me he was going to be moving into a motel. That’s what triggered it.”
“All right, Danny. But I want to make sure that you know you’re not making any sense.”
“Sorry. I know these are all pieces of the puzzle. I want to assemble the puzzle to make sure I’ve got the picture and that I’m not imagining all this. It may be just a narrative I constructed. I can’t be sure yet.”
“Fine. What do you want us to do?”
“First get the phone book. Then make a list of any motel, hotel, or boarding house within ten miles of the Lucey summer home in Sag Harbor. Then go to the library. They will have either a hard copy or microfilm of Newsday for the day Marilyn Park was killed. You’re looking for rooms for rent. Not apartments or houses. Just rooms. Again, keep it to a ten mile radius of the Lucey home.”
“Okay, so assume we have our list. What do we do then?”
I handed them newspaper stories with two pictures of the two people.
“You go to every one of these places and ask if they know these people.”
“I recognize one.” Ari pointed. “But who’s he?”
“Trigger chairs the party in Suffolk County.”
“Should we be playing around with this, Danny? This sounds as though it’s something we should give the police.”
“We have to make a picture the police and everyone else will understand.”
I waited a second.
“One more problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to be finished by three this afternoon and bring the results to me at the courthouse where Katie Lucey’s trial is taking place.”
“And how exactly do we do that?”
“Go to the library. Xerox the pictures. Make all your lists. Divide them up. There aren’t that many motels. What I don’t know is how many rooms for rent there will be.” I shrugged. “And maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“If we find one place that knows them, that’s enough.”
“That’s enough.”
“You left out a part, Danny.”
A Darker Shade of Blood Page 11