The Beginning (8 page)

“Thank you, my son, for your chivalry, but it does us no good if you get arrested. I really thought you were going to punch him.”

“I wanted to,” Frankie said still breathing hard.

“Right now we need to help Jerome. I need you to calm down. Do you know any criminal lawyers?”

“Yeah. A couple.”

“Any who can work in the state of Florida?”

“I’ll make some calls.” He got out his phone and started tapping on it. I thought he said he would call? Sometimes I wondered if we spoke the same language.

“Good. First call Marcella and tell her we’re stopping by to see her.”

“We are? Why?”

“First, she’s probably upset and could use a visit from a friendly face.  Second, I want information. Marlowe is an idiot; I don’t care what your father says. He’s never going to solve the crime and I can’t let Jerome hang for this.”

“Mom, they don’t hang people anymore.”

“Well whatever they do.  Besides, I don’t want Marcella and the kids to have to live the rest of their lives thinking Jerome is a murderer. What a burden for them.”

“Gotcha. Follow the GPS to their house and I’ll start making phone calls.”

I followed the GPS to Jerome and Marcella’s house, with one little exception. I made a stop on the way. I bought some pens and a couple of notebooks. I also threw several food items in to the cart.

“Mom, why?” Frankie asked.

“Why what?”

“Well, first, why the notebooks?”

“Because we are going to ask questions, take notes, and clear Jerome. Those kids will not think their Daddy was a murderer.”

“OK. I get that. Why the food?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It’s for them. I feel like I should be bringing a casserole or something. I think that’s what my mother would have done.”

“I’m not sure the occasion calls for it.”

“Really, there’s no written etiquette about what to bring to someone when their husband is arrested for murder? Imagine that?”

As we drove I wondered where what type of neighborhood we were going to. The quality of the houses and cars got worse as we went. There wasn’t any graffiti or trash on the ground or anything like that. But you could tell the residents here did not make much money. Suddenly I was very conscious of my somewhat expensive car, clothing, and jewelry. I wasn’t sure if I felt afraid or like I stood out or if I felt guilty for never having to worry about money. I’d never been in a neighborhood like this in my entire life and I didn’t like it.

Frankie and I pulled up in front of an old apartment building. It was only three stories high, really low compared to apartment buildings in Pennsylvania. The cars were not in the best of shape. There was a group of people sitting outside talking. Mostly they were sitting on the hoods of the cars, one older gentleman was standing. I got the impression that he was the leader of the group. The people stopped talking and watched us as we got out of my car. I turned the alarm on, something I never do. I knew that wouldn’t stop anyone from stealing it if they wanted to, but it made me feel better.

Frankie grabbed the bags from the trunk.

I turned to Frankie, “What apartment number?”

“Can I help you?” the older African-American gentleman asked as he walked over to us.

“Yes, thank you.” I said, “We are looking for Marcella Blackman.”

“Mom, shush,” Frankie said. He sounded as panicked as he was when I spoke to Marlowe this morning.

The man’s eyes registered some recognition, “Say, ain’t you two the ones who bought the theme park, Adventure Planet?”

“We are. Who, may I ask, am I speaking with?”

“Mom, shush,” Frankie kept saying.

The man smiled at me and stuck out his hand. I accepted it and we shook hands.  He had rough hands, but a firm gentle hand shake.

“The name’s William,” he said now smiling. “You’ve given a lot of people hope. You really think you can get it going again?”

“I believe we can, William. My name is Misty and this is my son Frankie. I’m glad you feel we can offer people some hope, people need that. But right now Marcella has no hope. I want to see her and help her.”

“Jerome didn’t do it. He’s a good boy.  Works hard. Takes care of his family.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here. We can’t let this happen to him,” I said.

“Don’t see what we can do. Police chief thinks he did it,” William said.

“Not so sure I like that police chief. I wonder how hard he’s trying. I personally am going to do all I can to help Jerome. Frankie, does he have a lawyer yet?”

“Yes, the lawyer is on the way to the police station now,” Frankie responded.

“Oh, that lawyer the city is giving him don’t care none,” William said.

“No, William,” I corrected, “we are sending in someone better than that. We’ll even pay for it if necessary. My son knows people. Now, will you please tell me where Marcella lives?”

“No, but I will take you to her.”

We followed William in to the building. It was dimly lit and in need of a paint job. We walked up the stairs to the third floor. As we walked we could smell the different foods being cooked in various apartments. I’m sure the food was good, but their combined smell was not. William turned down the hall, stopped and knocked on a door.

“Baby girl, it’s Daddy. I have some people here who want to visit with you,” he said.

I looked at William. “Daddy?”

“Gotta protect my girl,” he said smiling.

“I get it,” I said.

The door opened and we walked in. The apartment was small but clean and neat. The furniture was old, but in good condition. There was even a clean smell in the air. I envied this. I always wanted my home to smell clean and fresh to whoever entered it and never felt that I mastered it.

The door closed and I looked at Marcella. Her face was stained with tears. She looked like she hadn’t eaten and could fall over at any minute.  The mother in me just wanted to hug her and put her to bed. But I didn’t because I wasn’t sure how she’d react. 

Frankie spoke first. “We brought you some food. Is it ok if I put it away?”

Marcella nodded and Frankie made his way to the tiny kitchen.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Honey, have you eaten yet?” I asked Marcella.

“No, ma’am. Not yet. I gave the kids something earlier, though,” she said.

Frankie came back in and handed me the notebooks and pens.  “William, have you eaten yet?” he said.

“No I ain’t. Too worried about my baby girl to eat. I was only outside ‘cause Marcella don’t allow no smoking in here and I wanted a cigarette. I sure could eat though.”

“Well, sir, what do you say you and I go get some take out? We’ll leave these women alone to talk.”

“Mighty fine idea,” William said. He looked at me, “you have a good boy here.”

“Yes, I do,” I said. I smiled at William; I was really beginning to like him.

With that, the two of them left. I was alone with a very upset Marcella and her three children. Two of whom were peaking around a corner at me. I waved at them. They smiled shyly and waved back.

Marcella turned and looked at them. “I told you to play in your room. Mommy needs quiet time.”

“We’re hungry momma,” the older one said. Marcus was his name I think.

“I’m sorry, baby; Mommy is just very sad right now. I’ll get you something. What would you like?”

I interrupted her. “Your grandpa and my son just went out to get some food.” I turned to Marcella, “let me get them a little snack to tide them over until they get back with dinner. You rest. I can do it. OK?”

She gave me a weak smile. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, I appreciate it.”

I got up and headed in to the kitchen. The boys ran after me. The baby girl toddled after them.  “Well, what kind of snack would you guys like?”

“Cookies!” they yelled and jumped up in unison. Well, Angela mumbled something that sounded like it might be cookies.

I looked at Marcella, to get her approval. She nodded at me. “Ok”, I asked Marcus, “where are the cookies? Can you help me get them?”

He pointed and jumped up. “In there,” he said.

Great, it seemed to me that he was pointing to all of the cabinets.

I touched the one I thought he was pointing to. “This one?”

“No,” they all said.

I tried another one, “This one?”

Once again they said, “No.”

“Ok, well it looks like I need more help than that. Can you give me more help?” I said. Marcus put his hands up to reach for me. I picked him up and held him. He smelled as good and clean as the rest of the home. 

“Ok, where are the cookies?” I asked again.

He opened a cabinet door and pointed to a box on the top shelf.  The cupboard was so bare my immediate thought was of Old Mother Hubbard. Only this wasn’t a dog wanting a bone, it was kids wanting a cookie and that was worse.  I got the box down and Marcus instructed me on how to serve the cookies the way his Momma did. I followed his instructions.  When I was done, all three kids were sitting at the table with a plate of cookies and a small glass of milk happily eating and talking. Looking at them, I realized how much I missed my grandsons.

When they finished their snack, I got Angela out of her high chair and the kids went off to the bedroom to play. I rinsed the dishes and wiped off the table. Then I sat down to talk to Marcella and tried to learn something that might help Jerome.

I sat across from her and held her hand. She looked very frail and weak. My heart went out to her.  I don’t know what I would have done in her case.

“Marcella, you and I both know Jerome did not do this.” She looked up at me in surprise. “Even though that stupid police chief believes he did. But he has only circumstantial evidence.  I need you to tell me everything you can to help free Jerome and catch the real killer.”

“I don’t know who the killer is, ma’am.”

“No, but you know more about the people who live here than I do. Together I think we can figure out who might have wanted to kill her and why.”

“I’m not sure how much I know,” she said.

“Well, tell me about the victim. She was the wife of the former owner of the park right?”

“Yes, she was Mr. Neuspech’s wife. We never understood why he married her. He was such a nice man and she wasn’t. All she cared about was her money.”

“How so, Marcella? Give me an example.”

“Well, for one thing she always dressed in expensive clothes and jewelry and even wore fur coats. And I mean, this is Florida, we don’t need fur coats here. Even in January.”

“So it’s possible she married him for his money?”

“Everyone around here thought she did. The rumor was that she spent most of the family’s money. I mean, they had to get rid of their maid and such. Then Mr. Neuspech started cutting everyone’s hours and wages at the park. Some people were only working one day a week; I mean some that used to be full time.  Jerome used to have a title and be in charge of fixing the rides and making sure they don’t break down.  Mr. Neuspech changed his job and paid him a lot less money.”

“So, Mr. Neuspech’s money was going somewhere, certainly not to the park or his employees. Probably to his wife and her fur coats.”

“That’s what people were saying,” Marcella said.

“And they were probably right. What else was going on around the time Mrs. Neuspech left?”

“Well, the night watchman, Julio got fired. I heard that he was having an affair with her and Mr. Neuspech fired him when he found out.”

“Interesting. Mr. Neuspech wouldn’t have liked that.” I wrote the first name in my notebook: Julio night guard.

As our conversation continued I learned that the rumor was that Julio was letting Mrs. Neuspech and some friend of hers sneak men in to the park after hours.  The opinion was that the two women were having sex with them for money.  In fact, Marcella knew some of the men who had this experience in what was called “the after hour’s coaster club”. The problem was that Marcella did not know the friend’s name, only that she was another rich lady.  No problem, I’d find that out later.

The only other person we thought could have killed Mrs. Neuspech was Adolf. After all, she left him for about a year and then suddenly returns when he sells the park. Was she trying to get money out of him? Did he refuse and then got angry and killed her? We weren’t sure.

“There was a rumor that he was mean to his wife,” Marcella said. “Although, she wore very sexy clothes and I never saw a single bruise. And she never acted afraid of him. No, she was really rather mean to him. Even called him names in front of other people.”

I thought about this, any time I’d seen Adolf he seemed very meek and mild. The only time I’d seen him angry was when George tried to talk him out of selling the park. And I mean, he did yell at George. Still, he didn’t seem like the violent type. Well, it could still be a clue and God knows we needed them.

“Anything else?” I asked. “We have the ex-security guard, the friend who may have been helping run a prostitution business, and the husband.”

“I can’t think of anyone else,” Marcella said. She really looked worn out.

“I hate to ask, I know you’ve had a rough day, but what about Jerome’s past? Was he violent like Marlowe, I mean Chief Campion, claims?”

Marcella’s faced became very strained. “When he was young, Jerome ran with a tough crowd there wasn’t much choice around here. He got in to some fights. He was arrested a couple of times. But he wasn’t eighteen yet. Those records should be sealed.”

“Yeah, they should be. Maybe Marlowe just heard about it through one of his officers. Marlowe wasn’t here then right?”

“No, ma’am, the new chief came here just a few years ago. Our old chief died and no one here wanted the job. So the city looked for an outsider. And we got Chief Campion.”

“Marcella, how did the old chief die?”

“He was about ninety years old,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he just died of old age.”

“Ok, I feel better.”

Marcella smiled at me. “You were afraid he was murdered?”

“Yes, I was, although I don’t know why. But I’m happy he wasn’t. Tell me one more thing, Marcella, what was Jerome doing the night before the murder. I mean I know he painted the shovels for us, but other than that I have no idea. And Campion will look in to it if he hasn’t already.”

“After he painted the shovels and got them ready for the ceremony he walked home.”

“I’m sorry, he walked home?”

“Yes, ma’am. We have a car but he doesn’t use it much. He doesn’t want me to be home with the kids and not have a car in case of an emergency, especially if Angela is sick. And he doesn’t want me picking him up if it means waking the kids up. Last night both Jerome and Daddy were working,” she said.

“How long of a walk is that? It’s got to be miles? Aren’t there busses here?”

“It’s a pretty long walk. It takes him at least an hour or more to get home.  We have busses here, but they only run during the day. Most everyone here drives, rides a bike or walks.”