Julius Katz Mysteries (10 page)

Rosalind Henke was blond, and had a square-shaped face and a thick jaw. According to her RMV records, she was thirty-eight, five foot seven inches tall, and a hundred and thirty-four pounds, although she looked older and heavier to me. While not beautiful, at least not by the standards I had to measure her by, she probably would’ve been considered attractive if it weren’t for her pinched expression and the smallness of her eyes. According to her last tax return, she worked as a bartender, and I was guessing this was either her day off or she worked a late shift. I studied her hands. They appeared strong; more than strong enough to have bludgeoned Denise Penny with a piece of iron pipe, as had been done.

Julius gestured for her to follow him and then to take a seat across from his desk. They sat engaged for a minute in a silent staring contest before Julius told her that she was lying to the police.

“You got a lot of nerve saying that to me,” she said in the same dull voice she had used over the phone. “I told them only what I saw.”

“Please,” Julius said, “don’t waste my time with such sophistry. I know you did not see Archie Smith as you claim.”

“Then how was I able to pick him out of a photo lineup?”

“You stated to the police that you entered Ms. Penny’s apartment to check on her after first hearing suspicious noises next door and then seeing a man flee. I would guess that when you had entered Ms. Penny’s apartment you used the opportunity to look through her e-mail. You found out that she was planning to meet Archie, as well as finding pictures of him.”

“That’s a lie.”

This was said in the same dull monotone as everything else she had said, but when she said it I was able to figure out her ‘tell’, and I was sure Julius picked it up also since he was far better at spotting a person’s ‘tell’ than I was. With Henke, it wasn’t her eyes, but with the way her mouth tightened for a split second. That’s what gave her away.

“Ms. Henke, we both know what’s really going on here. You’re engaged in a very dangerous game right now, and I would strongly advice you to tell me the truth.”

She sat silently for another minutes, her eyes shrinking to little more than black dots. Finally she said in that same monotone that she wasn’t afraid of Julius.

“That’s a pity,” Julius said.

“I’m done here,” she told him, and with that she got out of her chair and left his office. Julius didn’t bother escorting her to his front door, but I followed her using the hidden indoor webcams to make sure she didn’t steal anything or cause any other mischief. That wasn’t an issue. She made a beeline out of the townhouse, as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Once the front door closed behind her, I told Julius that he accomplished a lot.

“Very good,” I remarked. “Not much different than your phone conversation with her, the way you chased her out of here without asking her any pertinent questions.”

“I accomplished exactly what I wanted to, Archie.”

I didn’t believe that for a second, but there was no use arguing with him unless I wanted to find myself being turned off. This whole business of having his home invaded and searched by the police, and then having to not only solve a crime for free but incur expenses while doing so had left him in a surly mood, and that clearly affected his behavior with Rosalind Henke. I didn’t say another word to Julius, not then, not while he pounded chicken breasts so he could prepare his version of chicken cordon bleu, which had him using pancetta instead of ham, nor later when he spent the rest of the evening reading. Instead I tried to research Rosalind Henke and build computer simulations that could explain her murdering Denise Penny, but nothing I came up with seemed plausible.

The next morning, it was business as usual with Julius sticking to his regular routines, even with the newspapers declaring on their front pages that I was a wanted murderer. Lily Rosten called at ten o’clock after seeing a New York station run the story. She was the only person other than Julius who knew what I was, and he assured her he’d have the real murderer identified by the end of the day. At ten thirty, Tom Durkin called to tell Julius that his target had given him the slip.

“I’m sorry, Julius,” he said. “I don’t think she made me, but that didn’t stop her from taking a quick illegal left on Mass Ave. When I tried following, Cambridge’s finest pulled me over for a ticket. By the time they were done with me, she was gone.”

“Did the target use a pay phone while you were watching her?”

“Yeah, twice. Once last night, again early this morning. Again, sorry about losing her.”

“Tom, she has an innate craftiness about her. It couldn’t have been helped. I need you to be available for the rest of the day.”

Tom told him he would, and after the call ended Julius sat quiet for several minutes, his features hardening as if he were made of marble. When he broke out of his trance, he asked me to compile a list of everyone Denise Penny had called over the last three weeks. After some hacking into her telephone provider’s database, I had a list of names and phone numbers for Julius. He looked them over quickly, crossing out some and circling others, then he put the list aside to pick up his Archimedes book. While he read, I did some hacking and built profiles for each of the names that Julius had circled.

It was a few minutes past one o’clock when Cramer called. The detective’s voice was strained as he said to Julius, “We know Rosalind Henke came to your townhouse yesterday. What the hell did you two talk about?”

“I believe that’s between Ms. Henke and myself.”

“Not anymore it isn’t. She was found murdered. Shot four times. Katz, God help you if I find out you were involved in any way! And you’re going to tell me what I want to know right now or I’ll have you arrested and dragged to the station as a material witness!”

Cramer’s belligerence had a forced, almost tired quality to it, as if  he knew he was wasting his time with his threats. Julius ignored it.

“Detective,” he said, “normally I would stonewall you simply on the principle that I do not like to reward bullying behavior, but we both want to see the same thing. Namely, for you to arrest the murderer of Denise Penny and Rosalind Henke. I can guarantee it’s the same person, and if you arrange to have the following five people brought to my office by three o’clock, I will hand you the murderer.”

Julius gave him the five names that he had circled. Cramer was silent on the other end before asking Julius whether he knew for fact that I wasn’t responsible for either murder.

“Yes, of course. I told you yesterday that Archie was not responsible for Ms. Penny’s murder, and I can assure you he had nothing to do with Rosalind Henke’s, either.”

There was another long pause before Cramer told Julius that he would see what he could do, and then hung up.

“That was easy,” I commented. “I thought you’d get more of a fight from him. At the very least, have him accusing you of being in league with me in murdering both women, instead of only hinting at it.”

“He’s probably been suspecting all along that Henke’s eyewitness account was a fabrication,” Julius said. “Maybe he even discovered her fingerprints on Denise Penny’s computer.”

If Julius said the murderer was one of those five people, I wasn’t about to doubt him, nor was I going to ask him how he was going to pinpoint which of the five it was. It would be a waste of time on my part. Instead I mentioned the three o’clock time that he had given Cramer. “Interesting that you chose then,” I said. “Quite a coincidence, actually, since this would allow you to visit the Belvedere club for their four o’clock cognac sampling, if you can really wrap this up as quickly as you think you can. Interesting.”

“No such thing as coincidences, Archie.”

With that Julius picked up his book. He seemed to have no interest in researching any of the names he had circled, and when I asked him whether he wanted my profiles for them, he told me it wouldn’t be necessary. Fine. While he read more about Archimedes, I worked on my own simulations, this time involving the five people Julius was having brought to his office. One of them came up with a reasonably high probability of being the murderer. I thought of giving this to Julius but decided to keep it to myself.

Cramer came a little before three with a small mob of four other police officers and all five of Julius’s suspects in tow. I guess he decided he didn’t want to be outnumbered.

Denise Penny had worked for a payment collection agency, and her boss, Walter Dietrich, was one of the five. A squat powerful-looking man in his fifties. There was also Sam McGowen, who had been Denise’s ex-boyfriend. He was thirty-one. Medium height, thin, sallow complexion, with dark hair. As he was led into the room he had a hard time making eye contact with Julius, and he was the one my simulations pointed to as the likely murderer. Also in the group was a co-worker of Denise’s, Paul Cronin. A tough-looking guy with a scarred-face and a bent nose that showed it had been broken a few times. Rounding out the group was an ex-roommate of Denise’s, Laura Panza, a slight girl of no more than ninety pounds and at most four feet and eleven inches in height even though her driver’s license had her at five foot and one inch, and Mark Hanson, a socialite, who often held well-publicized charity events for the underprivileged, which was a cause Denise believed strongly in. It was at one of these events that the two of them met. Denise even had her picture in the
Boston Globe
with him at the last one she attended.

After the five of them were seated and Cramer and the other police officers took their positions behind them, Julius addressed the room and thanked the five for agreeing to meet with him. While he did this, Denise’s ex-boyfriend’s eyes grew even shiftier. I’m sure Julius noticed this, but he chose not to mention it just then.

Julius continued his speech to them, saying, “Usually I would make a bigger production out of this, but since I have no client to impress and have a prior engagement, I’ll instead be wrapping this up quickly.

“I could talk about how my assistant, Archie Smith, suspected from the beginning that Denise Penny was trying to manipulate him to help her extort money from a target. I could also talk about how Archie was unable to go to her apartment as scheduled, as much as he wanted to, so that he could discover what she was up to, since at the last minute I had to place him undercover inside a highly sensitive investigation that I am engaged in.”

Cramer made a noise as if he nearly swallowed his tongue. His eyes flashed murder at Julius but whatever curses he wanted to unleash were held back. Julius watched him for a moment to make sure there would be no outburst from him before continuing.

“There’s no reason for me to mention any of that,” Julius said matter-of-factly. “When Rosalind Henke claimed she saw Archie leaving Ms. Penny’s apartment, it was obvious given what I already knew what her motives were. Clearly, the person whom Henke saw was someone she recognized, and more importantly, someone she was planning to blackmail, just as Denise Penny had tried. Knowing this made finding Penny’s murderer simple, and I was motivated to do so not only because having Archie accused of murder put my other investigation at risk, but to protect his good name, although I had little doubt that the real murderer would be exposed eventually without my help. Since I knew Henke would be contacting this person for the purpose of blackmail, I hired a private investigator, Mr. Tom Durkin, to follow her, knowing that she would soon lead us to Penny’s murderer. Unfortunately, Henke was able to lose Mr. Durkin in traffic, at least long enough so that he was unable to save her life. But he did witness her being shot four times and is able to identify her murderer. He’ll be calling here at precisely three fifteen. Presently, I have him busy trying to link Henke’s murderer to Denise Penny.”

Julius had kept his right hand under his desk and out of view from the rest of the room. He used his index finger on that hand to point out to me who the killer was, although it wasn’t necessary. Given the way this person reacted to Julius’s news it was pretty obvious which one it was. Julius signed with his right hand what he wanted me to tell Tom Durkin, and I called Tom to relay the message. He sounded surprised to hear my voice, but didn’t say anything about it.

Julius still had three minutes before Tom would be calling. He turned to Cramer and asked, “If Mr. Durkin hasn’t been successful yet in linking Henke’s murderer to Penny, I’m assuming you’ll still drop all charges against Archie Smith and charge this person with both murders.”

Cramer nodded. His gaze, as well as everyone else’s in the room, was fixed on the real murderer. They’d have to be, with the way this person was perspiring and uncomfortably squirming. At precisely three-fifteen Tom called as I had directed him. Julius put him on speakerphone.

“Mr. Durkin, is it true that you witnessed Rosalind Henke being shot?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom lied.

“Were you able to get a good look at her murderer?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom lied again.

“Can you identify this person?”

Before Tom could lie for a third time, the socialite, Mark Hanson, bolted from his chair and tried to fight his way past the cops. He didn’t get very far before being tackled to the floor and having his hands cuffed behind his back.

  Later that evening Hanson confessed to the police. It turned out that Denise Penny had witnessed Hanson, while drunk, striking an elderly man with his car and driving away from the scene in a panic. She had recognized him from his many photos in the newspaper, and had gone to his last charity event to make contact with him, and not because she had any interest in helping the underprivileged. She was a ruthless, coldhearted woman who had completely fooled me, and as Julius guessed, Hanson killed her because she was attempting to blackmail him, the same reason he later killed Henke.

I digested all this for twenty hours as I tried to readjust my neuron network so I could have made the same deductions that Julius had. Finally, I told Julius that he had only been bluffing. He put down his latest book, a crime-noir novel set in Vermont that seemed to absorb him, and he raised an eyebrow for me to continue.