Murder in the Air (7 page)

“Thank you, dear, but this is my home. I intend to sit shiva for Daniel right here.”

Gayle and Roger kissed Evelyn good-bye, then climbed into the waiting taxi that would take them to the airport.

“They’re wonderful kids,” Evelyn told Lydia, her voice hoarse from crying. “I couldn’t ask for better.”

“Not like Daniel’s, you mean?”

Evelyn gave her a tear-stained smile as she closed the door behind them. “Polly’s sweet. She’s often told me she was glad Daniel and I had each other. But the other two are horrors.”

“I’m sorry for the way Arnold treated you at the cemetery.”

“Oh, that?” Evelyn’s laughter held no humor. “He was furious at his father and couldn’t very well say so at his funeral so he picked on me.”

“You mean, because you and Daniel were getting married?”

“More to the point, because Daniel changed his will. Last week, as a matter of fact. He bequeathed fifty thousand dollars to Arnold and to Denise, and twenty-five thousand to each grandchild. After that, a quarter of his estate goes to Polly, three-quarters to me—that is, the money’s to remain in trust for me as long as I live.” She frowned. “Upon my demise, the money’s to be divided between Arnold, Denise, and Polly.”

“Did Arnold and Denise know about the new will?”

“Not exactly, though Daniel dropped hints that we’d be getting married and there would be changes.”

“They must have resented that.”

Evelyn sighed. “Daniel was fed up with them both. He said they were leaches and didn’t deserve another penny from him. I urged him to change his mind. He finally gave in and said they’d share what he left me after I no longer needed it.”

“The trust,” Lydia murmured.

Evelyn nodded. “But let’s talk about more pleasant matters.”

Lydia, socially adept as she was, had no idea what a pleasant topic might be under the circumstances. Besides, she had her own news to deliver. She followed Evelyn into her comfortable yet elegant living room and refused her offer of refreshment.

“Evelyn, I feel I must tell you. Polly thinks Daniel was murdered.”

Lydia’s shoulders tensed as she waited for Evelyn’s stunned response. Instead, Evelyn nodded as though Lydia’s news made perfect sense.

“He knew,” she whispered. “His last words were ‘They did it. They got to me.’”

Lydia shuddered. “Did he say who ‘they’ were?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I thought he meant his kids aggravating him and bringing on the coronary. He got plenty of fallout after he told them we were getting married.”

“When did Daniel tell them?”

“Last week. Denise showed up with Bennett the Saturday before the party to beg for money. She turned ugly when he wouldn’t give it to her.” Evelyn grimaced. “She obviously told Arnold, because he called here the next day to tell Daniel what he thought of me and our getting married. Then he asked for money for another of his doomed business ventures. Daniel said he was furious when he turned him down.

“Frankly, we didn’t expect either of them to show up at the party, but they surprised us. In fact, Arnold drove over to the house before the party while we were getting dressed. Left his family sitting in the van while he tried to convince Daniel to change his mind—about the money, anyway—but Daniel refused to discuss it.”

“Lovely children,” Lydia murmured.

“Does Polly think her brother or sister killed Daniel?” Evelyn asked.

Shocked, Lydia shook her head. “No, she said nothing of the sort! Daniel told her someone tailed him last week when he drove alone.”

Tears welled up in Evelyn’s eyes. “Who? Why? And why didn’t he tell me, the woman he shared everything with? I’ll never forgive him for that. Never!”

Feeling a bit guilty, Lydia said, “Evelyn, Daniel told me he was worried that people he knew years ago might have been involved in a crime. He was very vague, but I suspect it had to do with the body the excavators unearthed in the root cellar. He said he didn’t want to upset you because you were busy with the party and the brunch.”

“The party and the brunch weren’t important! They were only a way of honoring Daniel.” Evelyn shook her head. A sob escaped her lips. “I was a fool to make such a fuss about his eighty-fifth birthday. If I hadn’t been so occupied, I’d have made him tell me what was troubling him instead of letting him fob me off with platitudes. He’d still be here with me.”

“We don’t know that,” Lydia said gently. “Did Daniel mention anything about the crime he believes was committed?”

Evelyn shook his head. “He told me nothing. He spent hours at his computer. And he called Ron Morganstern.”

Lydia’s heart took a flying leap. “I just found out from Ron that he and Daniel knew each other when they were kids.”

“That’s right. Ron, Daniel, and Mick Diminio grew up right around here.”

“Evelyn, Daniel grew upset about this old crime right after they found the remains of that boy.”

Evelyn nodded slowly. “Of course! Daniel went to talk to you because you were there when the body was discovered, and you helped solve the Weills’ murders.”

Lydia wasn’t crazy about the way Evelyn had phrased things, but at least her pinched expression was fading, a sign she was letting go of her guilt for not having protected Daniel.

“I’m trying to remember Daniel’s exact words when he came to ask my advice. Something had happened that convinced him a murder had been committed many years ago. Proof, as far as he was concerned, but no evidence. His dilemma was if he should bring this to the attention of the police or let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Of course we’ll tell the police!” Evelyn exclaimed. “It could be the reason that Daniel’s dead.”

“I’ve already left a message with Lieutenant Molina,” Lydia said. “He should be calling me back soon.”

“Good.” Evelyn stood. “In the meantime, I’d like you to go through Daniel’s computer files. Maybe they’ll tell us who was after him.”

Lydia hesitated. “I don’t know.” She could well imagine Sol Molina’s wrath when he learned that she and Evelyn had checked out the files on Daniel’s computer.

Evelyn misunderstood her hesitation. “I thought, having owned a business, you’d know the workings of a computer.”

“I’ve worked on computers, of course, but I think we should wait until the police get here.”

“Why? It’s not as though we’re trampling on a crime scene. I can’t count how many people have been through this house before and after they rushed Daniel to the hospital.” Evelyn’s lovely gray eyes, usually so mild, turned cold as steel. “I must know who killed my Daniel. If you won’t access the files, I’ll find someone who will.”

She would, too. Lydia patted Evelyn’s shoulder. “In that case, I’ll access them and we can go through each and every one, if you like.”

“Thank you, Lydia.”

Having won her point, Evelyn babbled as she led Lydia into the den, where she sank into a chair while Lydia booted up the computer. “We got the computer last year. I use it to email my daughter and a few friends. Daniel used it to check his investments and to write his memoirs.”

“Write his memoirs?” Lydia was surprised.

“Why not? He was involved in some of the biggest corporate takeovers and mergers.”

Lydia mused. “I wonder if the person following him had a grudge against him because of some business venture in the past.”

“For Daniel’s sake, let’s find out.”

Going through Daniel’s files was easy enough. Most of them were chapters of his autobiography, which he’d entitled “A Man’s Life.” Evelyn sat quietly beside her as she skimmed through the text. She found it engrossing. Daniel had a pleasant, readable prose style. What’s more, the files added up to hundreds of pages. Lydia suspected it was three-quarters complete. Another five files contained copious notes. She wondered if Polly would want to finish the book in memory of her father.

She glanced through the files concerning Daniel’s finances and investments and was stunned to discover that his assets totaled close to thirty million dollars.

“I can see why Arnold and Denise weren’t happy their father was about to remarry,” Lydia said.

“Out of spite. They couldn’t care less on a personal level.”

Lydia smiled. “I must say, Daniel’s new will is the opposite of what we’ve come to expect in this age of prenup agreements.”

Evelyn’s nod was knowing. “Believe me, his lawyers worked long and hard to change his mind, but Daniel stood firm. He trusted me more than his two older kids.” She laughed. “I don’t need his money. Daniel left me this house and our place in Florida, and I intend to make good use of both. As for the money, Arnold and Denise are welcome to it when I’m gone.”

With the new will in effect, Lydia thought it preposterous that either Arnold or Denise had murdered Daniel. They simply didn’t benefit from their father’s death. Unless one of them was so angry—Lydia shook her head. She didn’t want to contemplate patricide.

“I’m bringing up a file called “suspects.”

Evelyn peered at the screen. “It seems to be written in code.”

Lydia squinted. She was too caught up in what was before her to get out her reading glasses. “No, simply abbreviated words. There are three paragraphs, each headed by two initials. The first is R. M.”

“Ron Morganstern,” Evelyn said.

“M. D. That’s Mick Diminio, I imagine. And B. E.” She looked questioningly at Evelyn. “Do you know who that is?”

“Probably Billy Evans. He was an old friend of Daniel’s when they were kids. I think he lived in California until he died several years ago.”

“Three childhood friends,” Lydia mused. “Was Daniel still friendly with Ron?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I didn’t know they knew each other from childhood until a few weeks ago. Ron or Mick Diminio. Daniel called them both. Afterward he told me to invite them to his party, so I did.”

“And they came,” Lydia murmured. “So Daniel couldn’t have accused either of them of murder before the party.”

The notes didn’t tell her very much. The headings were dates, followed by what appeared to be streets, locations, and times of day. Most of the entries ended with a series of question marks.

Lydia turned to Evelyn, who sat weeping silently into her hands.

“Evelyn, dear,” she crooned, putting an arm around her. “We shouldn’t be doing this now. You’re grieving.”

“This is exactly what I should be doing,” Evelyn said as staunchly as she could through her tears. “I’m determined to find the rotten bastard who killed my Daniel.” She turned imploringly to Lydia. “You’ll help me, won’t you? You’re good at finding murderers.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lydia said, not knowing what else to say.

A framed penciled sketch of a young teenaged boy on yellowed paper caught her attention. It stood on a bookshelf among photos of Daniel and his children, Evelyn and her daughter’s family, and Daniel and Evelyn.

“Is that Daniel?” Lydia asked, recognizing the narrow face, the intelligent eyes.

“Yes. Timmy John Desmond drew it,” Evelyn replied. “He was a friend of Daniel’s when they were young. Daniel said he would have become a famous artist.”

“What happened to him?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Nobody knows. He came to live with relatives on Long Island. Then one day he simply disappeared and no one ever saw him again.”

Chapter Seven

Lydia was about to ask Evelyn what she knew about Timmy John Desmond, when her cell phone rang.

“Hello, Lydia. Sol Molina, here. I called you at home, then thought I’d try your cell phone. What’s up?”

“Hi, Sol.” Flustered because he’d saved her cell phone number, Lydia glanced at Evelyn, who waved and left the room. She appreciated her hostess’s tact, considering what she had to tell him.

“A Twin Lakes friend and neighbor died yesterday and was buried today. His name is Daniel Korman. His daughter thinks he was murdered.”

“Really? What makes her think that?”

“Polly said Daniel was receiving strange phone calls, and someone was tailing him.”

Sol didn’t respond. Lydia knew he was thinking. Finally, he asked. “What do you make of it, Lydia? How old was the guy? Do you take her for an hysterical daughter?”

“Daniel had congestive heart failure, but he was in good health. His fiancée threw him a party Saturday night to celebrate his eighty-fifth birthday. And no, his daughter isn’t the hysterical type.” She paused. “Daniel was worried about something. He came to talk to me last week.”

“Lydia, Lydia, how do you get embroiled in these situations?” She heard affection, exasperation, and resignation in his voice.

“It’s not something I pursue,” she said with some heat. “Daniel needed to air a moral dilemma and used me as a sounding board. He was vague about the details, so I was less than helpful.”

Sol sighed. “What are you doing for dinner?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”

“How’s about we go out for a bite and you can tell me all about it. That is, if you don’t mind meeting me. I’ll be tied up until close to seven.”

“That’s fine. Where shall I meet you?”

He gave her the name of a Greek restaurant in the next town and directions to get there. “Let’s aim for seven o’clock. I’ll call you on your cell if I’m running late.”

They said good-bye, and Lydia returned her attention to checking through Daniel’s files. There was only one file of interest. It yielded little information other than a log of phone calls made to Ron Morganstern and Mick Diminio.

A glimpse at her watch told her it was after four. She had less than three hours. She asked Evelyn for her Twin Lakes directory and looked up Ron Morganstern’s address. “Ron lives on Lake Montaukett,” she murmured.

“I don’t think it’s wise to pay him a visit,” Evelyn said. “Let your boyfriend interview him.”

“Detective Molina is not my boyfriend. We’re friends, nothing more.”

“Friends who go out for dinner.”

“On occasion,” Lydia conceded.

Evelyn gripped her upper arm with surprising strength. “Lydia, don’t act rashly! If Ron killed Daniel, why wouldn’t he do the same to you?”

“I promise to be careful. I merely intend to ask a few questions about the time when they were kids.”

Evelyn grimaced. “If he’s guilty, he’ll know what you’re after. But I can’t stop you, can I?” She embraced Lydia in a fierce hug. “Be careful!” she admonished. “And tell me everything he says.”