Gunned: An Alex Harris Mystery Read online

  “I’m so very sorry,” Annie said. She was still holding Mrs. Newman’s hand, while I was trying my best not to cry in front of the woman.

  Rhoda Newman reached for another napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Ira couldn’t take it. I wanted to go and get counseling, work our way through the pain, but by that point he was just a shell of a man. After he left me, I, well, I never wanted to meet anyone again. I didn’t want to have any more kids because what if it happened again? I just wasn’t into trying anymore.”

  “Did you tell all of this to Mr. Spiegel” I asked.

  “Oh, no. I just told him that Erika was dead so it didn’t matter what he thought. I told him to be happy with the daughter he had and to go away.”

  “Mrs. Newman, did you ever feel that Erika wasn’t your daughter? Did you ever think for a moment that she had been switched?”

  “No, never. I didn’t see her the first day because I was so sick, but when I saw her I remember thinking she looked like my mother, what with the dark hair, and it would be so nice if my parents would come to see her.”

  “And afterward, as she got older, did you ever have any doubts.”

  “No, Ms. Harris, never. Of course, we were so consumed with her always being sick, but I never thought anything was amiss. Babies change constantly, you know. First she looked like my mother and then I thought she looked like Ira, but who knows. Maybe you see what you want to see. Babies pick up mannerisms, too.”

  “Do you remember anything odd happening at the hospital?” I asked.

  Before she could answer, the doorbell rang and she left to let the repairman in. She took him upstairs and then returned to the kitchen.

  “Sorry about that. He’s doing some repairs in the bathroom. What did you ask me?”

  “I wanted to know if you remember anything odd going on at the hospital.”

  “Nothing that I can recall. It was kind of noisy, I remember that. I woke up one night because of all the noise, but then I went right back to sleep. I was happy to go home, but it would have been nice to have had my mother around to help me,” Rhoda Newman said quietly. “They, I mean my parents, never did come to see Erika. And now they’re all gone. It’s just me.”

  “Mrs. Newman, I am so sorry that we brought up all this pain again,” I said, as Annie and I prepared to leave.

  “It’s okay. I haven’t talked about it with anyone in years, and for some strange reason I feel better having told you about it. A total stranger, but maybe I just needed to finally get it all out. I’ve started so many times to look for someone to talk to, you know, a professional, and I never did because I didn’t want to bring it all up, but ever since Mr. Spiegel came by I can’t stop thinking about Erika and Ira. I’m thinking maybe I should finally look into finding a counselor or some support group.”

  “I think that might be a very good idea. One more thing,” I said, “what if Mr. Spiegel was right? What if your daughters were switched? Do you have any desire to meet the woman who may be your biological child?”

  “I didn’t when he first told me. Erika was my child. Entertaining any thoughts that she may have been switched seemed somehow disrespectful to her memory. But I’ve been thinking about it these last couple of days, and if something happened at the hospital and I got the wrong child, which caused me to spend most of my adult life blaming myself for her death, and was responsible for the heartache that drove Ira to an early grave, then someone needs to pay for what they put us through.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Whether Rhoda Newman thought that person was Mr. Spiegel, and whether or not she did something about it, I didn’t know. But if I was in her shoes and found out that I might actually have a child out there after I had given up all hope and been through what she’d been through, I think once the shock wore off, I’d be pretty darned upset. I was already upset just thinking about what this poor woman had endured all these years, and without the support of loving parents. I had a goofy family, but one thing I could always count on was the fact that if I called and said come right now, they would. No questions asked. I couldn’t image a life without that assurance.

  “Does it strike you as a strange thing that Mrs. Shalt’s father died of congenital heart failure and now we find out that Erika Newman was born with a heart disease as well?”

  I thought about that for a moment. “There’s just so much that can go wrong when you’re pregnant,” I said. “I don’t know if there’s any connection.”

  “People should be so grateful if they are lucky enough to have a healthy child. Do you think any of this has anything at all to do with why Mr. Spiegel was killed?”

  I looked over at Annie. “I think we need to find out what went on at that hospital.”

  “Yes, we must find a way to speak with someone there. If Mrs. Newman wanted to lash out at someone, if any of the parents or young women wanted to take revenge, why kill Mr. Spiegel and not someone at the hospital?”

  Annie made a good point. But maybe Mr. Spiegel, being the bearer of bad news, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I could see Rhoda Newman being so distraught at the thought of having gotten the wrong baby that she just lashed out at the man.

  “Maybe in Mrs. Newman’s case, here she’s lived a life of total heartache and relentless pain since baby Erika died. Then some guy shows up and says, ‘Funny thing. Our babies may have been switched in the nursery. You know what? I just might have your kid.’ Well, in her current state, maybe everything, all that grief, just came bubbling out and she couldn’t control her rage. Maybe she thought Mr. Spiegel did it on purpose. Maybe she thought it was an accident. But that didn’t matter. The deed was done and she got the wrong baby. She just snapped and killed him.”

  Annie nodded thoughtfully. “We must go to the hospital and talk to these people.”

  “Easier said than done. Major lawsuit is what they would think of first, and then they would clam up and not say a word. Plus, who the heck am I? I’m just some nosy lady asking questions. No one will talk to me. I wouldn’t even get in the door. No, what we need is to find someone on the inside who might be willing to talk to us.”

  “Mrs. Shalt’s sister Kathy.” Annie looked over at me with a Cheshire cat grin.

  “Right. Nurse Kathy.”

  We continued our drive along the turnpike and soon crossed the border into New York and found ourselves in Port Chester. Shirley had once again come through for us and found the address of Jerome Perry. It was nice of John to let these little nuggets slip out.

  “Annie, I must take you into the city before you leave.”

  “Oh, Gerard and I have been to New York City many times. We do love it, but I cannot do anything until we find the killer. Once we achieve that, then yes, we would love to go.”

  I was happy to see Annie was so optimistic about our abilities to unravel the mystery before she had to board her flight back to Brussels, but I wasn’t sure it would happen. I didn’t want to burst her enthusiasm bubble so I just continued to drive until I found the Perry residence, which turned out to be an upscale apartment building.

  “Sorry, but you just missed him,” the doorman said.

  Our luck at catching people at home had finally run out.

  “Do you know when he’ll be back?” I asked. We had driven all this way and I didn’t want to have to come back, but maybe he got a new job and wouldn’t be home until late.

  “Hard to say. Now that he’s out of work, he comes and goes a lot. Looking for a job takes a lot of work these days.”

  So the man knew a bit about Mr. Perry’s life. Maybe I could get more out of him, like whether or not Jerome Perry was out when Mr. Spiegel was killed. Trouble was, I didn’t know exactly when that was, but decided to fake it as best I could.

  “I actually came by last Tuesday hoping to catch Jerome,” I said, hoping to sound like a good friend, “but missed him then as well.”

  “Yeah, he’s in and out all the time. I know he had a couple of interviews last week.” />
  “So he was gone on Tuesday?” I pressed.

  The old gentleman ran a hand over his chin. “I wouldn’t know. Tuesday’s my day off. Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll try him again later.”

  Annie and I turned to go.

  “He hangs out at the Village Brew a lot.”

  “The Village Brew?” I turned back and smiled.

  “Yeah, it’s a coffee shop here in town. All the young people hang out there. Sit around drinking expensive coffee and playing with their computers and phones. He might be there.”

  The doorman gave us directions and we got back in the car.

  Annie reached over and turned the heater on. The weather had turned gray and the car was cold. “How are we going to recognize him?” Annie asked.

  “Good question. I didn’t want to ask the doorman what Mr. Perry looked like because I wanted him to think we were good friends. I guess we could ask one of the workers at the Village Brew. If Jerome hangs out there a lot, maybe they know him by name.”

  The Village Brew turned out to be more than just a coffee shop. It also served homemade sandwiches and Annie went up to the counter to get us a hot drink and some lunch while I scoped out the clientele.

  The place was big, but with a warm atmosphere, and I could see myself hanging out here with a good book and a cup of tea if I didn’t have to go to work every day. It seemed like a popular place, but I didn’t see a man alone with a computer among the crowd.

  Annie sat down across from me and placed two mugs of hot tea on the table. “They’ll bring our sandwiches out as soon as they are ready. Is Mr. Perry here?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. There’re two older men over there talking,” I nodded my head in their direction, “but from what the doorman said, I get the impression Mr. Perry is younger than them. Maybe in his early thirties would be my guess.”

  A waitress brought over our grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. They were piled high with very thinly sliced ham and cheese that was melted but not burned. It was all placed on homemade grilled bread and looked wonderful. I loved sandwiches. There was no right or wrong way to make one. Whatever sounded good you could slap onto your favorite bread, add a few other toppings and you had a meal. On weekends, John and I liked to have grilled sandwiches a lot, and one of us usually made some kind of homemade soup to go with them. A perfect meal.

  I picked up my tea and looked at Annie over the rim of my mug. She cut her sandwich into bite-sized pieces as was the norm in Europe. I usually worked murder cases alone, but I was very happy to have her along. For a woman in her fifties she was a ball of energy, and said running around a hospital all day kept her in great shape. She was very insightful, and it was good to have someone to bounce ideas off of.

  “So tell me your thoughts so far on what we’ve discovered?”

  Annie put her fork down and looked over at me. “It is interesting that everyone has a story, no? I am not certain that any of it pertains to the murder of Mr. Spiegel, but I think eventually something will, how do you say, click?”

  “Like what?” I asked, as I wiped some melted cheese from my chin.

  “The first person we spoke with was Jennifer. Other than Mr. Spiegel upsetting her mother, she did not seem to be too upset at the prospect of perhaps not being her parents’ biological child. She almost seemed to welcome the fact as an explanation of why she felt like she didn’t belong.” Annie took a sip of tea before continuing. “In contrast, her parents had been more resentful of Mr. Spiegel’s intrusion.”

  “But only because it brought up the pain of Mrs. Shalt losing her father right before Jennifer was born. Would that be a motive to get rid of the man?” I asked.

  “Only if she is telling us the truth,” Annie said with a sly smile. “Did you not say that the guilty party would lie?”

  “I did.”

  “Perhaps Mrs. Shalt was upset for other reasons. She had a sister working at the hospital, so out of everyone we have talked with so far she was the one with an insider.”

  “Yes, but for what purpose?”

  “Her father had just died of congenital heart failure. Very sudden and very upsetting. When you are giving birth, Alex, your emotions are no longer under your control. I cried constantly, and once our daughter was born it became worse. Every time I looked at her I was so overcome that something bad would happen. I did not want to leave the hospital. I felt she was safer there with professionals to look after her. Not rational, but you are not sane at that point.”

  “So you’re saying that maybe Mrs. Shalt, at that very emotional time, was so concerned that perhaps her daughter might have inherited the same condition, whether or not something like that was possible, that she…what? Had her sister help her get another baby, one who presumably came with no health risks?”

  Annie shrugged. “You are not yourself, I tell you. Your emotions have been taken over. Perhaps Jennifer feels like an outsider because her mother, knowing what she has done all those years ago, has pushed those feeling onto her daughter unknowingly.”

  I sat there cradling my cup, thinking about this when Annie reached across the table and nudged my arm. I looked at her and she nodded toward the door.

  “I think perhaps we will now get to speak with Mr. Perry.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jerome Perry was not what I expected. He was much younger than I imagined. And cocky. Funny how we have preconceived ideas about things, which never turn out to be right.

  “Who are you again and what do you want? How did you know I would here, by the way? Are you stalking me, because I’ve had someone stalking me before and I’ll call the police if I have to. You’re not some kook from Facebook, are you?”

  “We stopped by your apartment and the doorman told us you sometimes come by here.” I explained to Mr. Perry exactly why we wanted to speak with him.

  “Sal talks too much. Look, I already talked to the police,” Mr. Perry said, while standing next to our table and holding onto his phone, one of those new high tech things like Annie has. “And I told them they had the wrong guy. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Yes, I know. My husband is the detective you spoke to. Why don’t you have a seat? This will only take a minute.”

  Mr. Perry took a call on his cell and ignored us for a minute. He told the person on the other end he would call them later and then he turned back at me. “So, what is it that you want?”

  “Please sit down.” My neck was hurting from looking up at the man, who had to be over six-foot tall.

  Jerome Perry sat down in a chair he pulled over from another table, and looked at me impatiently.

  “Mr. Spiegel came to see me and then ended up dead shortly thereafter. His wife has also been to see me, and one of the women he’s been looking for works for me and she’s very upset. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Yeah, well, hang on a minute.”

  He took another call. Who was everyone talking to? It was amazing any work got done in the world anymore.

  “Okay, look, like I was saying, I didn’t kill Sheldon. Not that I didn’t feel like it. I lost my job because of him. He said I screwed up big time, which wasn’t completely my fault, and he said I was on my phone all the time texting and playing games and missing deadlines.” Jerome Perry looked at his phone, smiled, and started typing something on the miniature keyboard.

  “Image that. So nothing he said was correct.” I gave a nod to the phone. “And everyone’s out to get you.”

  Mr. Perry pushed a piece of pale blond hair off his forehead. “What? Well, yeah, kind of. That’s how it felt at that place. Look, I’m glad I’m out of there. A bunch of old guys who got their degrees eons ago. I have a masters in structural engineering and they’re saying I screwed up?” He looked at his phone again, gave a small laugh, and typed something quickly.

  “I heard after you got fired you posted some nasty comments about Mr. Spiegel on Twitter.”


  “What? I never said anything about Sheldon, and you have a lot of nerve looking at my Twitter account.”

  “It’s Twitter. That’s what it’s for. If you don’t want people to see stuff then stop sharing your every thought with the rest of the world. So what about it? You sounded pretty upset.”

  “One, I never actually used his name, so good luck proving it was about him. And two, the guy was old school. You have to cut corners wherever possible, and Sheldon always had to use the best. Well, the best costs, you hear me, and then we go over budget. How is that good for the client?” Jerome glanced down at his phone and typed in another message.

  I made a mental note to find out what, if any, bridges this kid had worked on and not to ever drive over them. And ditto for buildings. I didn’t want to be in one of his structures when the walls caved in because he used inferior cement.

  “You want to know something? I liked old Sheldon, I really did,” Jerome Perry said. “But he was acting weird lately. And like I told the police, I have no idea what he was up to. He never said and I never asked. I don’t know anything about any women he was trying to find. The guy was married. And old. I don’t need to hear about his sex life. But you know what? I completely forgot about this when I talked to your husband. Sheldon did say something odd.”

  Annie and I both leaned forward.

  “What was that?” I asked.