* * *
“You saved that poor kid from nightmares,” Carey noted as they climbed the stairs. “What a great old building,” she added as they headed down the hallway towards Eileen Shavers’s apartment. “Though an elevator might be a nice addition,” she huffed.
“Eileen Shavers was thirty at the time, the first to call police. She heard the scream and some noise in the alleyway,” Brian read from the old case file.
“She’s a real pistol. Jay should handle this one,” Mallory said.
“She heard noise in the alley,” Carey said. “Did the detectives at the time check into that?”
“They assumed that the killer was a stranger, a vagrant who made his escape by running down the alley,” Mallory said. “The alley used to run all the way to Mott Street. Mott Street wasn’t one of the nicer neighborhoods back then. O’Shea and Ryan, the lead investigators at the time, were convinced the killer was from Mott Street.”
“Because almost everyone who lived there at the time had names that ended with vowels,” Shawn said accusingly.
“Yes,” Mallory said reluctantly. “Mott Street was known for small-time numbers running, and a lot of wannabe thugs. I didn’t buy the theory. The boys from Mott Street wanted to be wiseguys. They might hijack a truck and run illegal gambling, but assaulting a girl wasn’t their style. If the killer did use the alley, I figured he jumped on the subway. There’s a stop not far from where the alley let out.”
“They ignored the people who were close to her because they didn’t like the boys who lived on the next block?” Carey asked.
“That’s the way things ran in those days,” Mallory said.
“That would explain the men they brought in for questioning. They all lived on Mott Street and had an Italian last name,” Brian said, knocking on Eileen Shavers’s door. They waited a few moments before Brian knocked once again, only louder this time.
“Hold your water!” came a shout from inside and Mallory snickered. They continued to wait, listening to shuffling and the steady stream of curses being muttered before they heard the sounds of several locks clicking open.
“Jack Mallory, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” the elderly woman greeted the former policeman, moving her walker aside and allowing the group to enter her quaint apartment. “Finally come to your senses and decided to sweep me off my feet?” She wheezed as she shuffled across the room and took a seat.
Shawn cleared her throat as the dank aroma of stale cigarette smoke assaulted her. “Sit, you’re making me nervous.” Eileen lit a cigarette. “Unless we’re going dancing?” she teased Mallory with a wry smirk. Shawn suppressed a laugh, knowing that the retired schoolteacher was gay.
“Anytime, Ms. Shavers,” Jack replied with a smile. The group, with the exception of Shawn, took a seat. Eileen glanced at Shawn for a brief moment before snickering under her breath.
“What about you, young man?” she teased Brian. “Think you could keep up with me?”
“No, I-I honestly don’t,” Brian said with a slight stammer.
“Ms. Shavers,” Carey cut in before Eileen could torment her ex-husband further. “As you’ve probably guessed, we’re here because of Hester Moscovich.”
“She loves playing with them,” Shawn heard a voice echo. She smiled over at Eileen, spying the figure looming over her. All the boys loved her, and she belonged to you, Shawn silently responded to the misty apparition.
“Tell me you finally caught the sick bastard who hurt that girl,” Eileen glared at Jack.
“We’re looking into the case,” Carey said carefully.
“No.” Eileen sniffed. “One, two, three cops, and you.” She pointed towards Shawn. “You’re on to something.”
“How did you know I’m not a cop?” Shawn asked Eileen, who took a drag on her cigarette.
“Because you don’t look like you have a stick shoved up your ass like these three do.” Eileen blew out a puff of smoke. Brian’s jaw dropped while Carey and Mallory smiled at the commentary.
“I like her.” Carey chuckled. “Yes, we do have some new information. What can you tell us about that night? Anything you can recall would be very helpful.”
“Recall?” Eileen snorted with disgust. “I’ll never forget the sound of that poor girl screaming. I still hear it sometimes at night.”
“How did you hear her?” Carey pressed. “This apartment is way in back of the building.”
“Back then, at that time of night, the streets were quiet. Not like today with all those damn boom boxes and everyone shouting into those freaking cell phones. Nope, back in those days, you could get a decent night’s sleep, except when George and Mona got all hot and heavy. Those two humped like animals. You’d think that fat bastard was God’s gift to women.”
Shawn suppressed a laugh. Mallory smiled at Eileen, while Carey and Brian gaped at her.
“Um, getting back to the night of September 13, 1955,” Carey said with a shake of her head. “What exactly did you hear, and when did you hear it?”
“I’ll never forget that night,” Eileen said sadly, extinguishing her cigarette, and instantly sparking another one. “I was asleep. It was just after ten. I remember looking at the clock when I woke up.”
“What woke you up?” Carey asked. Brian reviewed Eileen’s original statement.
“A blood-curdling scream,” Eileen said. “I went white as a sheet when I heard it. I called the police immediately.”
“You didn’t check first to see what had happened?” Carey’s brow furrowed.
“No. That sound wasn’t kids kicking up their heels. Someone was in trouble. I called the cops, then I raced downstairs to see if I could help.”
“When did you hear the footsteps in the alley?” Carey asked Eileen in a curious tone. It was more than obvious that something about the woman’s story was off.
“When I called the cops,” Eileen snapped. Shawn ran her fingers along a silver picture frame resting on the mantle.
“Ms. Shavers, I know it was a long time ago, but do you remember if you heard the footsteps for a long time, like someone went the length of the alley, or was it more of a short jaunt?” Carey doodled in her notepad.
“How the hell should I know?” Eileen’s hand trembled. “It was footsteps, that’s it.”
“Well, I guess if there’s nothing else you can remember, we should get going.” Carey stood. Shawn folded her arms across her chest and gazed down at Eileen.
“What?” Carey asked, seeing the look in Shawn’s eyes. “Something you want to add?”
“Just one question,” Shawn softened her gaze, never wavering from the older woman. “What did Thelma see or hear that night?”
“Dr. Williams, you must be mistaken,” Mallory said. “Ms. Shavers was alone that evening.”
“No, she wasn’t,” Shawn said gently. “What did Thelma tell you?”
“Fuck.” Eileen blew out a terse breath, releasing another stream of smoke.
“Eileen, this isn’t 1955 anymore,” Shawn said.
“I’ve noticed.” Eileen extinguished her cigarette, this time failing to light another. “I never heard the footsteps. That was Thelma.”
“What?” Mallory exclaimed.
“You weren’t alone that night?” Carey asked. “Any reason why you chose to hide this information from the police?”
“Yeah, a damn good one,” Eileen snarled. “How long do you think I would have kept my job if it got out?”
“I don’t understand,” Mallory said.
“No, you don’t.” Eileen glanced up at Shawn. “You do. She didn’t move in until the following spring. Thank Christ this is a two-bedroom. The nosy parkers in this joint would have had a field day if they knew.”
“Ms. Shavers, I still don’t see,” Jack said.
“Thelma was her girlfriend,” Carey said.
“That’s a pitiful label for what we shared,” Eileen said. “We were together for forty-three years until she had the bad manners to die on me.”
“When we heard the scream, I called the cops, just like I said,” Eileen said. “When I hung up, Thelma told me she heard someone in the alley. I got dressed, told her to lock the bedroom window before I rushed downstairs. Poor Hester, seeing her like that broke my heart. She was such a sweet girl. I wish I could tell you more. I know Thelma looked out the window, but she said she didn’t see anything. Not like you can ask her. Unless you’ve got a Ouija board or a psychic, you’re shit out of luck.”
“What?” Eileen asked as all eyes turned towards Shawn. Eileen quirked her eyebrows with disbelief while she studied Shawn, who smiled back at her with an amused grin. “Now, I know you’re yanking my chain.”
“Ms. Shavers, if it isn’t too much of an inconvenience, could I look out your bedroom window?” Shawn politely requested.
“Knock yourself out. Best offer I’ve had in years.”
“Thank you.” Shawn spied a very amused Thelma watching over her lover. Carey followed closely behind Shawn as she headed directly towards the bedroom without asking which door led to the room.
“Anything I can do to help?” Carey asked, her gaze darting about the room.
“No.” Shawn drank in the warm feelings that surrounded her. “There’s so much warmth here,” she said.
Carey looked around the room. “They must have loved one another very much.”
“They still do,” Shawn said with a soft smile. “Now, if I can just get Thelma to leave Eileen’s side, I might be able to see what she saw that night.” Shawn tried valiantly, but to no avail. “It won’t work, she refuses to leave Eileen.”
They returned to the living room. Shawn sighed as all eyes once again focused on her.
“So, what did you see besides the mountain of dust bunnies under my bed?” Eileen taunted her.
“Nothing,” Shawn said glumly.
“Damn, I was hoping for the winning lottery number,” Eileen said. Shawn released an exasperated sigh.
“May I?” Shawn asked, holding out her hand.
“You’re not trying to get fresh with me?” Eileen laughed as she held out her gnarled hand for Shawn.
“No, ma’am.” Shawn smiled. “Thelma watches over you, and I don’t think she would take that very well.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Eileen beamed when Shawn clasped her hand.
Shawn’s body trembled as the night was shattered by an ungodly scream.
“What was that?” Thelma asked. She and her lover jerked up from the bed. She glanced over at Eileen, who was dialing the telephone. The sound of someone running, followed by a loud clunk of metal, echoed in the alley. Thelma thrust her head out the window.
“I heard someone running in the alleyway,” she said when Eileen hung up the telephone and hastily began to dress.
“Get away from the window, woman,” Eileen snapped. “You’re naked. What in blue blazes are you thinking? I called the police. Stay here while I check out what’s going on.”
Thelma gasped. “Eileen, please be careful.”
“I’ll be right back,” Eileen said, kissing Thelma lightly on the lips. Eileen paused only long enough to shut and lock the bedroom window before she raced out of her apartment.
“Sweet Jesus.” Eileen sobbed when she opened the downstairs door. She felt sick as Hester’s lifeless eyes stared up at her. “Poor child,” she said. Other tenants filed out of the building and faltered at the grisly sight.
“No,” Eileen gasped, grabbing Sophia and turning the poor woman away from the ugliness.
Shawn allowed Eileen’s hand to slip from her grasp.
“You held her mother, trying to keep her from seeing Hester,” Shawn said. “You didn’t want her to remember her child that way. That was very kind of you.”
“Well.” Eileen cleared her throat. “This has been the most entertainment I’ve had in years. Did it help?”
“Yes,” Shawn said softly. “Thelma did hear someone running, but not the length of the alley, and metal clanged, like the sound of someone climbing the fire escape.”
“Are you saying that the maniac that killed Hester was hiding in the building?” Eileen squawked.
“I think so,” Shawn said. “Thank you again, you’ve been very helpful,” she added, motioning for the others to follow her.
“What, no lottery numbers?” Eileen stood and shuffled along behind them, wheeling her walker as quickly as she could manage.
“Sorry.” Shawn smirked. “I do have a message for you. ‘Cut back on the smokes. I’m with you, don’t be in such a hurry to join me.’”
“Just like her to bitch me out from the great beyond.” Eileen cackled. “Tell her I’ll try.”
“She can hear you,” Shawn said before they made their departure.
“Told you she was a pistol,” Mallory said as they headed towards the staircase. “I had no idea she was one of them.”
“And if you did, she might have ended up a suspect,” Shawn grunted as they climbed the stairs.
“Fine,” Brian snapped. Carey glared at him. “I don’t want to be rude, but so far all I’ve seen and heard are you making up things to back up the story you’ve been telling us. I’m sorry, but we’re not any closer to finding out what really happened than the police were fifty years ago.”
“Christ, Brian,” Carey said. “What about Thelma?”
“Thelma?” Brian snorted. “Come on, Jay, how hard could it be to guess that a retired schoolteacher who never married is a lesbian?”
“I don’t think I care for that generalization,” Shawn said. “Although it’s true that it was good-old-fashioned gaydar, not my gift, that clued me in to Eileen’s orientation.”
“Huh?” Brian said.
“Kids,” Mallory said, “let’s try to focus on the matter at hand, shall we? Brian, as Dr. Williams so aptly pointed out to you earlier, you don’t have to believe her. Personally, I find it interesting that not only did she know Ms. Shavers wasn’t alone that night, but she knew the name of her companion. My concern at the moment is Maynard Marshal. If you’ve read the reports, you might have noticed that not once in almost fifty years has his story varied.”
“I did notice that,” Brian said, looking as if a parent had just chastised him.
“Not once?” Carey asked.
“Word for word, every time,” Brian said. They stopped at the end of the hallway.
“A well-spun lie.” Carey sighed. “He might think it’s the truth by now. Any suggestions on how we should proceed, sir?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Mallory said. “The Marshal family has been questioned over a dozen times. Each time the story was the same: the boys were sick, no one heard a thing except Hester’s scream and the police sirens. But only the parents heard that, the boys were asleep. It is a plausible scenario, except the times I talked with the boys there was something in their eyes that told me they were lying. No one ever believed me, until now.”
“Did either of them ever marry?” Carey asked.
“Maynard married and divorced quickly at least four times, and Gilbert is still married to his college sweetheart,” Mallory said.
“Maynard is so moving up my list,” Carey said. “Brian, why don’t you take this one?”
“Why?”
“Maynard obviously has issues with women,” Carey said. Brian glared at her. “Knock on the door.”
He complied with her wishes only to receive no answer. He knocked again and again. “Guess he’s out,” he said.
“No, he’s home. He just doesn’t want to talk to us,” Shawn said. “Pizza delivery!”
“Hey, you can’t—”
“I just did.” Shawn chuckled when the door swung open.
“I didn’t order any goddamn…” Maynard Marshal bellowed before he realized he had been tricked. Carey and Brian flashed their badges quickly.
“What?” he asked, glancing over at Mallory.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Marshal. I’m Dete
ctive Jessup. We have a few questions for you,” Brian said tentatively. “May we come in?”
“No,” Maynard said. The sounds of a television blared in the background.
“It will just take a moment,” Brian said with a charming smile.
“I’m busy,” Maynard growled.
“Fine, we’ll do this in the hallway. We need to talk to you about what happened in 1955.”
“The Brooklyn Dodgers won the world series.” Maynard smirked. “Anything else?”
“Thanks for the trivia,” Carey snapped before Brian could proceed. “Actually, we’re here about your neighbor, the one who was murdered on the front steps of the building. Remember that?”
Wow, she is so much like her sister, Shawn noted.
“Oh, that.” He shrugged with apparent indifference. “Long time ago, what was her name? Esther?”
“Hester,” Carey said through clenched teeth. Mallory handed him the girl’s picture. “Coming back to you now?”
“Don’t know anything. My brother and I had the flu. We were asleep,” Maynard said with indifference, shoving the picture into Brian’s hands without even glancing at it. “We didn’t see or hear anything and only found out what happened the following morning. Now, if there isn’t anything else?”
“Just one more thing.” Brian was still holding the picture in his hand. “Do you remember who her friends were, or who she was dating?”
“I didn’t know her,” Maynard said, glancing over his shoulder so he could see the television.
“Pretty girl like her?” Brian pressed. “You would have been about the same age. Certainly you must have noticed her.”
“Back then, Catholic and Jewish kids didn’t play together.” Maynard dismissed Brian’s observation.
He’s lying. Shawn’s heart was racing. She knew that Maynard was about to shut the door in their faces. She smiled when something occurred to her.
“Is that the game?” she squealed eagerly.
“Sure is,” Maynard responded, still glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but could you tell me what the score is?” she asked in an innocent tone.
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