Murder in the Air (6 page)

His companion laughed maliciously. “It must have killed him to have a loser like Arnold for a son. If Danny ever heard the kid talk to Evelyn that way, he’d have wrung his neck.”

Lydia turned around. Ron Morganstern, an elderly Twin Lakes resident, was speaking to a short, barrel-chested man of his vintage with a drinker’s ruddy complexion. Both had been guests at Daniel’s party. At the moment, she was too upset by Arnold’s outrageous behavior to be concerned that she was intruding on a private conversation.

“Ron, I didn’t realize you knew Daniel from years ago.”

Ron nodded. “Sure did. So did Mick, here. Mick Diminio, Lydia Krause and Barbara Taylor. Two fellow Twin Lakes residents.”

“A pleasure, ladies.” Mick Diminio flashed a practiced smile, then muttered an excuse about having to get home and wandered off.

“Diminio,” Barbara mused. “That name sounds familiar.”

“Mick used to be a big political wheel in the county. His son, Michael, is a state representative and moving up.”

“Of course!” Lydia remembered. “I’ve read articles about him in the newspaper. But tell me, where did you live when you knew Daniel?”

“Around the corner from Twin Lakes, so to speak. We were friends when we were kids, then we drifted apart. Frankly, I was kind of surprised Evelyn invited us to Daniel’s shindig. So was Mick.”

Before she could ask another question, Andrew Varig joined them. The retired physician looked fit and tan after his European trip. Lydia decided he’d be downright handsome if only he’d lose his habitual somber expression.

“I got back last night and heard the news. Awful about Daniel.”

“We’re all upset,” Barbara said, “especially with it happening right after his party.”

“All the excitement could have brought on a coronary. Any word regarding the body they unearthed?” Andrew asked. “I find it astounding that someone hid a corpse, and it lay rotting in a cellar until now.”

“Nothing yet,” Lydia said, “but the police are working on the boy’s identification and cause of death.”

Ron groaned. Lydia turned to him. “Are you all right?”

“It’s the sun,” he answered. Sweat was beading along his forehead. “It makes me dizzy when I stay outside too long.”

Andrew reached for Ron’s wrist to take his pulse, but Ron waved him off. He offered them a wan smile. “I’m all right, thanks. See you back at the ranch.”

They watched him extricate his wife from a group of women and head for his car. Lydia said, “If I were a suspicious person, I’d say your comment about the body they unearthed upset Mr. Ron Morganstern.”

“Precisely what I was thinking,” Andrew agreed. “But that’s neither here nor there. Good-bye, ladies. I’ll see you both soon.” He winked at them and went on his way.

“There’s something different about Andrew,” Barbara mused. “He looks absolutely—sexy.”

“Sexy? Andrew?” Lydia threw her friend a look of disbelief. “Let’s see how Evelyn’s bearing up.”

They found Evelyn weeping on a bench in the protective care of her daughter and son-in-law. As Lydia and Barbara approached, she stretched out her arms and they hugged her.

“My poor Daniel,” she moaned. “Polly adored him, but the others couldn’t care less that he’s gone. I’ll be glad when they go home and leave me in peace.”

“I’m so sorry, Evelyn. You’ll miss him more than anyone,” Lydia said, her eyes tearing up. The funeral brought back the pain of Izzy’s death more than a year before.

Evelyn sniffed. “Who’s going to brew my coffee every morning? Daniel made the best coffee in the world.”

Lydia and Barbara sat on either side of Evelyn as she sobbed quietly. After a few minutes, they nodded to Gayle to reclaim her mother and joined the mourners moving toward their cars, either to go home or to the shiva at Polly’s.

“I’ve had enough for one day,” Barbara said as they passed headstone after headstone on the way to the exit.

“Me, too,” Lydia agreed. “We’ve all week to pay a shiva call.”

It was with a sense of relief that she drove past the gatehouse and entered Twin Lakes. She declined Barbara’s offer to come in for coffee and drove slowly home. She was emotionally drained from seeing Daniel laid to his rest. And she felt a pang of guilt for not having done more to help him resolve his problem. What if he’d been dwelling on it, and stress from that had brought on the coronary? She thought about Ron Morganstern and Mick Diminio, who had known Daniel when they were young, though Ron made it sound as though they were no longer friends.

If they were no longer friends, why had Evelyn invited them to Daniel’s party? Had Ron and Mick taken part in a crime when they were young? Ron had reacted when Andrew mentioned the body unearthed by the excavators. His reaction had nothing to do with the sun.

Daniel and Evelyn’s house looked abandoned—no lights were on, no cars in sight. Would Evelyn ever be able to step foot inside without being reminded of Daniel’s unexpected death?

As soon as she pulled into her driveway, Lydia was overcome by a state of restlessness. Though she had chores to see to, she was too agitated to focus on getting them done. She found herself backing out and exiting Twin Lakes. She’d go and pay a shiva call that day, after all.

The street where Polly lived was already lined with cars on both sides of the road, and Lydia had to park her Lexus at the end of the long block. She walked back, a five-pound box of cookies in hand. She entered the colonial-style house, which was the mirror image of Meredith’s, and went in search of Polly.

The downstairs rooms were filled with people eating from paper plates laden with food amid the din of several conversations going at once. Huge platters of delicatessen and accompanying salads covered the dining room table. Lydia left her box of cookies on the kitchen counter, which was crowded with cake and cookie platters, a coffee urn, and sodas. She extended her sympathy to Polly’s daughters and waved to Matt, engaged in conversation with an elderly woman. She saw no sign of Polly.

She finally caught sight of her hostess entering the maid’s room at the far end of the narrow hallway. Believing Polly had gone to get more paper cups or some such item, Lydia strode toward her, glad for the opportunity to catch her on her own. The sounds of contention, however, made her halt outside the room where Polly faced her siblings, Arnold’s wife, and Bennett.

“You’re letting your grief and hysteria override the obvious,” Arnold was saying.

“Arnold’s right,” Denise chimed in. “Dad was old. He had a heart attack. End of story.”

Bennett let out a bray of laughter.

Polly spoke so softly, Lydia couldn’t make out what she said. But it must have offended the others because all four stomped from the room, down the hallway, and out through the front door.

Polly came to stand beside Lydia and watched their departure.

“I’m sorry,” Lydia said, referring to both Daniel’s death and the quarrel she couldn’t pretend not to have witnessed.

Polly shook her head. “My brother and sister refuse to listen to me. They still treat me like the baby sister they used to pretend was a doll.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

Lydia led her back inside the room where seconds earlier she’d been arguing with her siblings. It was made up as a guest room, with two double beds. Polly sank onto one bed and Lydia sat beside her. Today seemed to be her day for comforting the bereaved.

“I didn’t know your father very well or for very long, but we were friends. I always felt we understood one another.” Except for our last conversation.

“Dad told me he thought the same of you.” Polly seemed to be debating something in her mind. She came to a decision and rose to close the door so no one could overhear them.

“Lydia, I want to tell you something.”

Lydia wondered if Polly knew what had been troubling Daniel.

“My father didn’t have a coronary. He died because someone killed him.”

Lydia sighed. “Polly, dear, it’s very difficult to accept the death of someone we love. An unexpected death is even harder.”

Polly shook her head and laughed. It wasn’t a pretty sound. “Do you think I’m imagining things? Looking for some explanation because I can’t accept losing my father to natural causes?”

“Regardless of the circumstances, losing a loved one as you have is a shock to the system. I know I had dreary thoughts for several months after my husband died.”

Polly turned to Lydia. “Please listen to me, or I think I’ll go out of my mind. My father was worried someone had it in for him. He’d received strange phone calls and…” she faltered, “this past week a car followed him when he was driving alone.”

“Did he call the police?”

Tears streamed down Polly’s cheeks, making her look like a little girl. “Get help from the police? Are you kidding? He said he knew who was harassing him, and he’d put a stop to it.”

“Did he say whom he suspected?”

Polly shook his head. “He only told me that much because I happened to be at his house when he got one of the calls. I’d picked up the phone to hand it to him. I made him tell me about it after I saw how upset and angry it left him.”

Lydia thought a minute. “Does Evelyn know any of this?”

“Dad didn’t tell her, but she knows something was troubling him this past week.”

“Something was. Your father was trying to decide what to do about a crime he believed was committed many years ago. He refused to tell me who or what it involved.”

Polly gave a wry little smile. “Of course he didn’t. Dad’s modus operandi was to keep everything to himself. It used to infuriate my mother. He claimed every problem had a solution and he considered himself the best problem solver around.”

“Putting together what we both know, Daniel suspected a person or persons had committed a crime. He intended to investigate on his own. Let’s assume he started asking questions, got someone’s back up, then someone took to following him.” Lydia shuddered.

“And now he’s dead. Murdered.” Polly rubbed furiously at her wet cheeks. “I called his doctor this morning and explained why I believe someone killed my father. The old goat stands by his conclusion. He offered to give me a prescription for a sedative. Can you believe that?” She drew a deep breath and continued.

“I told Arnie and Denise everything I told you. I explained why Dad’s body has to be exhumed, and I got nowhere with either of them.” Polly made a face. “My brother’s the biggest hypocrite. He says an autopsy is disrespectful of my father and it’s against Jewish law. Hah! As if he gives a hoot for my father or Jewish law. He thinks my imagination’s gone wild because—well, because…

“And Denise says there’s no point in an exhumation,” she hurried on. “It’s over and done with. Dad’s dead and buried and we’d best get on with our lives. That’s Denise, all right. She only cares about her next drink or fix, and that miserable spoiled son she dotes on. Actually, she’s glad because now she’ll have some money. So is Arnie. Neither of them gives a damn.”

Polly pressed a hand to her mouth. “Please forget what I’ve just said about my sibs. It’s been a grueling day, and their lack of grief or caring if Dad was murdered makes me want to scream.”

Lydia was beginning to wonder where all of this was leading. “Will you tell the police?”

She nodded. “I have to, for Dad’s sake. I’d like you to go with me to speak to the homicide detective Merry says you know. I want you to tell him what Dad told you.”

“Of course I will.”

“After the shiva’s over would be best,” Polly said. “Will you go with me to see him next Monday or Tuesday?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lydia said soothingly, though she intended to speak to Sol immediately. If Daniel had indeed been murdered, the investigation had to begin ASAP. She stood. “I’ll say good-bye. I only came to see you.”

“Thank you, Lydia.” Polly hugged her. “I wish you’d stop by Evelyn’s. She refused to come here today because of my stupid brother. I’ve no idea what got into him. Thank God he and his brood are going home tonight.”

Chapter Six

Lydia called the station and was told Sol wasn’t expected in until the following morning. Since she didn’t want to disclose information to another officer, she asked that the lieutenant call her back.

“Is this concerning an ongoing case?” he asked her.

Lydia hesitated. Daniel’s death was not a case—yet—but his death might be connected to the body the backhoe had unearthed. “It might be. I’m not sure,” she finally said. “Please tell Lieutenant Molina I’ve information to share with him.”

“And what is the nature of this information, Miss? Mrs.?”

Lydia hung up. It was a foolish gesture since the police telephone system revealed the number she was calling from. But she didn’t feel like answering questions right now. And by the time Sol contacted her, the issue would be cleared up. She decided not to call him on his cell phone. He’d get the message soon enough.

She fed Reggie and went into the den to watch the news, but she couldn’t concentrate. Polly’s insistence that her father had been murdered preyed on her mind. If this were so, it undoubtedly was connected to the old matter Daniel had alluded to when he’d stopped by.

Idiot! Lydia berated herself. Daniel had come to ask her advice and had chickened out in the end. She should have drawn him out, coaxed him to spill the entire story instead of settling for generalizations and innuendos. What had happened to her probing skills? Her intuition that something was amiss? She’d taken the easy way out, “respecting” Daniel’s wish not to reveal the issue weighing on his mind. As a result, the poor man was now dead instead of about to marry Evelyn and enjoy his newly wedded bliss.

She wondered how Evelyn was coping. After being humiliated by Arnold in that appalling, public way, she’d refused to go to Polly’s house. Lydia’s heart went out to her. Though everyone at Twin Lakes considered them a couple, Evelyn wasn’t Daniel’s widow. No doubt she was feeling lonely and abandoned.

Lydia walked over to see how she was faring. She arrived just as Evelyn’s daughter and son-in-law were leaving.

“Call me, Mom,” Gayle was saying. “If you change your mind and want to stay with us, either Roger or I will fly up to get you.”