Murder in the 11th House

by Mitchell Scott Lewis

  “By dragging other innocent people into the spotlight? I don’t think you realize just what your prodding may produce.”

  “I think I do. And if anyone knows what trouble it may cause it is you, your honor.”

  “I don’t like your implications, sir.” His voice was booming, but it had lost its authority, and they both knew it.

  “Let me tell you what I do know. You and Judge Winston were having an affair. It lasted about eighteen months, and it looks like you did a very good job of keeping it secret.”

  Thompson stood up and began to pace for a few moments and then sat in his towering judge’s chair. To Lowell he suddenly seemed like a little boy who had climbed into his father’s forbidden seat and got caught.

  “Again I resent your tone of voice.” The judge’s voice was much softer. “It was no torrid affair, nor was it something I planned. It just happened. We met at a charity fundraiser and, and it just sort of…” he trailed off. “How did you know?”

  “It was quite obvious to me. Your comparative and composite charts both spoke of a strong sexual attraction. And there were transits over the past eighteen months that could easily have led to a liaison. And since you two had many opportunities to meet I assumed the rest.”

  The judge got up from his chair and went to the window. “When I first heard you were on the witness list I was afraid it might come to this. You know, I’ve always believed in astrology. As a child my mother would take me and my brother to Coney Island to visit a gypsy woman. Every birthday she would draw up our charts and forecast our fortunes for the coming year. And you know what? She was always right, always right. When I got older and my mother finally died at ninety-one, I went to my childhood home and had to throw out all that stuff.”

  He was looking out the window as he spoke.

  “I found some of the notes she had written about us through the years and what she saw for the long-term, and as I read them the hairs on my arms went straight up. Almost everything she had predicted for me and my family had come true. When I was a little boy she even predicted that I would have a career in the legal profession and could very well become a judge.”

  He stood there in silence for a few moments, and then shook his head suddenly. He turned to Lowell. “You don’t think I killed her, do you?”

  “I don’t know. The charts do not show a violent nature to your relationship. But as I have learned, anyone is capable of murder. They do however show a distancing between you shortly before she died.”

  “It’s true. We had broken off our relationship about a month before her murder.”

  “Why was that?”

  “Many reasons. I think Farrah needed something from me, and once she got what she needed the relationship became superfluous.”

  “What was it that she got?”

  “The differences between us made her question things she had never really looked at with an open mind.”

  “There was quite an age difference.”

  “That was the least of our differences, and the most superficial. She was raised in a Republican family that could trace its roots to the Mayflower. I was, and am, a liberal Democrat and I will go to my grave fighting the decay and class separation that are destroying our society.”

  “You had disagreements with her?”

  “At first all we did was argue. But it was a respectful, seductive kind of skirmish. Even after we started sleeping together we would have enthusiastic battles of political ideology. After a while she stopped fighting and starting listening. All her life she had been surrounded by people with the same political perspective; isolated in childhood, attending conservative schools and meeting mostly young Republicans. Even in a liberal New York law school, she managed to surround herself with other like-minded people and only saw things from her rather limited point of view. But by the time we met, the world had changed. Her eyes were already being opened to the plight of the poor and middle class, and she began to see what was happening in this country. That’s when she started to change.”

  “Why did you finally break up?”

  “It was becoming more dangerous for us to meet. If my wife found out, it would be disastrous. It was just a matter of when we’d be discovered.”

  He stood and walked to the window and looked out.

  “Mr. Lowell, I love my wife. She is a bright, vivacious woman, beautiful in every way. Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful she’s in my life. When I met Farrah, well, I was just awestruck, I guess. You’ve seen pictures of her, but they don’t begin to show the depth and charms she possessed. She was beautiful, but so much more. The kind of woman men dream about. I never expected anything to come of it. Then slowly, after running into each other a few times, we made a date. It was only supposed to be coffee. But it turned into much more. How could I refuse her gift? Would you?”

  He sat back down and poured a glass of water. He took a sip and continued. “If this were to come out, it would ruin my life. What good would it do to destroy my marriage and career?”

  “Why didn’t you excuse yourself from the case?”

  “I tried. But they wouldn’t let me. How could I quit without telling them about my affair?”

  “Aren’t you concerned someone might have seen you together and recognized you from your vacation to the Caribbean?”

  “You knew about that, too?”

  “Yes.”

  The judge nodded.

  “You’re right. We worked so hard to conceal it. I don’t want my face showing up on the Internet. I’m afraid someone will identify me if they see my picture next to hers. I plan to ban all computers and cameras from the courtroom and hope for the best.”

  “I am only interested in saving that poor girl’s life,” said Lowell. “I am convinced that she didn’t do it and that someone who works in this courthouse set her up. I have no interest in dragging you into this, if possible.”

  The judge looked relieved.

  “But if Joanna Colbert is convicted, we will be forced to bring it all out into the open and demand a retrial.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t count on my help with this. Any unusual activity in this case will be scrutinized thoroughly. I can’t even grant you a continuance.” Judge Thompson put his head in his hands. “Why did this case have to fall into my lap?”

  “Do you know anyone who might have wanted to kill her?”

  Thompson shook his head. “Everyone who knew her loved her. Even if you didn’t agree with her opinion, she was such a caring person that people of all political persuasions enjoyed her company. I can’t imagine why someone would want her dead. Frankly, I was hoping it was your client.” He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. “So now what?”

  “The only way I can save Johnny Colbert’s life is to discover who did kill Farrah Winston.”

  “I’m afraid uncovering the truth won’t be enough. You’ve got to prove it, too. There are some powerful people who want to see this case go away quickly, and they will do whatever they can to get a fast conviction. Are you sure your client isn’t guilty?”

  “I am positive. What do you know about Judge Winston’s clerk, Larry Rosen?”

  “That little snot nose was always getting under my skin. He would follow her like a deranged suitor and almost caught us on several occasions. He’s a little creepy if you ask me. If you want to find someone who had disagreements with her, talk to him.”

  “I have, and he gave me the impression that he and Judge Winston saw eye to eye on everything.”

  The judge nodded. “That’s just like him to tell you half the story.”

  “They weren’t close?”

  “Oh, they were, at first. For a few years she considered Rosen her trusted confidant. But after we became lovers, her relationship with him rapidly deteriorated as she saw what a closed-minded little t
werp he really is.”

  Lowell frowned for a moment. “I’m going to do what I can to keep your name out of this if I can, for now. But in my investigation I might step on a few legal toes and may need your help.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Larry Rosen closed up his desk and turned out the light. It was 5:30 and he was done for the day. He had about a month to clean up Judge Winston’s business and put her professional affairs in order. Then he would be assigned to another judge.

  He walked out of the courthouse and was about to head toward the subway when a long black stretch limousine pulled up next to him. The back window went down and David Lowell’s face appeared.

  “Mr. Rosen.”

  Rosen was startled for a moment. “Mr. Lowell?”

  “Please, won’t you join me for a few moments? I’d like to talk to you. My driver will take you wherever you wish to go when we’re through.”

  Rosen scratched his chin. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid not. If you just come in I’ll explain it all to you. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  Rosen looked into the limo. It was quite luxuriously furnished, with comfortable seats. There was even a desk with a computer on top. Well, it beat sitting on the F train.

  “Well, all right, but only if we can talk while you drive me to Brooklyn. I have an appointment this evening that I can not be late for, and I must get home in time to prepare.”

  “Of course.”

  He got in.

  When he was seated, Lowell handed Rosen the phone and pushed a button. “Tell my driver where you would like to be dropped.”

  Andy came on. “Yes, sir, where would you like to go?”

  “Take the Brooklyn Bridge and go up Smith Street,” said Rosen. “Make a right on Thirty-seventh and then the first left. It’s the third house on the right.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  The limo started to move. Lowell opened a cabinet to reveal about two dozen bottles.

  “Would you like something? I’ve got pretty much everything, vodka, scotch, wine, beer. I’m having a vodka and tonic.”

  “That sound fine, I’ll have the same.”

  “Stoli okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Lowell took two highball glasses, added ice and mixed the vodka and tonic.

  “Would you like a slice of fresh lime?

  “Yes, lime would be nice.”

  Lowell took a lime slice from the small refrigerator, stuck it on the side of the glass and handed it to Rosen.

  “Here you go.” He kept the other drink for himself.

  “No lime for you?”

  Lowell shook his head and put his hand to his stomach. “Citrus doesn’t agree with me.”

  Rosen squeezed the lime slice into the drink and raised the cup. “To your health,” he said, and then took a large gulp.

  “No, to yours.” Lowell took a long sip. “Ah, quite refreshing.”

  “So what is so important that you had to tell me now?”

  Lowell looked at his watch. “Oh, you’ll know in about fifteen seconds.”

  “What happens in fifteen seconds?”

  “You pass out.”

  “What the hell are you talking ab…” Rosen keeled over and Lowell caught the glass before it hit the floor.

  Lowell picked up the phone. “He’s out cold.”

  Andy lowered the glass partition. “Brilliant idea, putting the drug in the lime slice. How long does this stuff last?”

  “Not long, maybe ten minutes.”

  “Well, we’d better hurry.”

  “You be ready,” said Lowell.

  “Just give me the signal.”

  Lowell tied Rosen’s hands behind him and put a blindfold over his face as Andy closed the glass divider. Then he turned on Delaney’s invention and set the machine to a dark and rainy night on a rural road. Soon the windows were wet and chilly, and “a heavy rain” poured down on the limo. Then Lowell took Rosen’s watch and moved it ahead five hours.

  He put the drinks out of sight, took a gun from his desk drawer and waited.

  A few minutes later Rosen started to groan. “Where am I?”

  “You’re still in my limousine, and I’m going to ask you a few questions, which you’d better answer truthfully.”

  “What the hell is this?” He tried to move his hands, but couldn’t. “I’m not answering anything, you crazy bastard. I’m going to have you arrested for kidnapping and assault.”

  “If I were you, I’d answer.”

  Rosen continued to struggle with his restrains. “The hell I will. What are you going to do if I don’t? What’s to prevent me from kicking out your window and yelling for help?”

  Lowell took the blindfold off.

  “God damn you, I’ll have you all arrested. You’re…” He looked out the window and stopped. Then he noticed the rain pelting the roof. “Where are we?” he asked, a tinge of fear in his voice.

  “Western Massachusetts.”

  “What? How long have I been out?”

  Lowell looked at his watch. “Five hours.”

  Rosen looked out the window. “Why are we in Massachusetts?”

  “Because, nobody will ever find your body here. If you don’t tell me the truth, and soon, I’m going to kill you and dump you in a lake.”

  Rosen wasn’t a brave man, as Lowell knew from his natal chart. He lacked backbone and had no illusions about it. To save his ass he would sell out his own mother in a heartbeat.

  Rosen stared at him. “You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, but I could and would. You see, Mr. Rosen, I’m trying to save the life of an innocent young woman. And it is obvious to me that the people responsible for the death of Farrah Winston are using my client as a scapegoat. Since they have no compunctions about hurting an innocent bystander, I am forced to act in the most callous of manners.”

  He put the gun up to Rosen’s cheek and pressed it into the flesh.

  Rosen was sweating profusely. His breath was short and erratic. He had rarely seen a gun, let alone had one put against his face like that.

  “But then you’ll never let me go. I could identify you to the police and…” He shut up.

  Lowell lowered the gun. “Mr. Rosen, I think by the end of our conversation, going to the police will be the last thing on your mind. I seriously doubt you will tell many people about this meeting.”

  Rosen shivered. “Would you mind untying my hands? It’s most uncomfortable.”

  Lowell put the gun back up against Rosen’s cheek. “If I untie you and you do anything stupid I will have no problem using this. Is that clear?”

  Rosen nodded.

  Lowell reached behind Rosen and released the restraints, the gun never leaving his hand. Rosen rubbed his wrists and looked at his watch.

  “God damn it, I have been out for five hours!” He rubbed his neck.

  “I want to know why you set up Johnny Colbert to take the fall.”

  “Because I had to.”

  “You’re not in a position to put this all in motion yourself. Who told you to do this? Was it for money?”

  “Money.” He laughed. “Money is crap. This was about right and wrong. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  “That, sir, is why your life is still hanging by a thread. Who am I dealing with?”

  “People that understand. People that want to save this country and get us back on track.”

  “What about the assassin?”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t play dumb. He was the one who set off the bomb that killed Judge Winston, wasn’t he? Or did you do that?”

/>   “I didn’t kill anyone. I was just supposed to call a number when the right person came into the courtroom, that’s all, nothing else.”

  “But Farrah Winston is dead because of you, you know that don’t you? And an innocent person is on trial for her life. My daughter is going to call you to the stand. If you’re willing to testify to what you just told me, I can guarantee your safety.”

  Rosen laughed a humorless guffaw. “You can’t guarantee your own safety. They already tried to kill you, and they’ll keep trying until they get you, you know. And if I get anywhere near a courtroom…” He shook his head. “I’m not testifying to anything.”

  “But if you don’t agree to help me, you’re dead in about five minutes.”

  He opened a drawer and took out a silencer, which he slowly screwed on to the gun barrel. “This is your last chance.”

  Rosen’s mouth went dry. “All I know is that they’re very powerful men who can get things done.”

  Lowell continued to screw the silencer on. “Give me a name.”

  “I don’t have one, I swear to you,” he shouted. “Please, for God’s sake, I don’t know anything. I never even met them, only spoken on the phone. I just told them when that foul-mouthed woman started threatening Farrah. I don’t know anything else.”

  “What do you know about Pilgrim’s Cavern?”

  “I never heard of it. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had to help them. Farrah Winston was going to ruin the country.”

  “How was she going to do that?”

  “By becoming the president of the United States someday and pretending to be conservative only to change her agenda once she was in office.”

  It was starting to make some sort of sense in a bizarre way. “How did these men contact you?”

  “Someone phoned me at my office a few months ago. He said that they shared my views on the world and felt that what was happening to America was disgusting. They wanted to take back the power and straighten things out. All they asked was for me to keep my eyes open and let them know if Farrah began acting strangely.”

  “But why?” said Lowell, pressing the gun harder against his head.