Murder on the Boardwalk

by Lee Strauss

  Aunt Louisa turned her disdain on Rosa. “I don’t know what you ever saw in him, and now that you’ve come back, he’s determined to shame our family name once again.”

  “Aunt Louisa!”

  Rosa dared a glimpse at Miguel. His eyes, ordinarily warm pools of coppery brown, were dark and determined, his mouth a hard, straight line. He breathed hard through his nose before meeting Rosa’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Rosa.” Then to Gloria, “Miss Forrester, please come with us.”

  Gloria swallowed, her eyes glassing over with fear.

  Rosa took her hand. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I’ll have your badge, young man,” Aunt Louisa snapped, as Gloria stepped in between Miguel and Detective Sanchez. Then almost as an afterthought she added, “We have the best lawyers, Gloria. Don’t worry!”

  18

  In front of the police station, Rosa brought the Bel Air to a skidding stop right behind Miguel’s police cruiser and jumped out. Detective Sanchez opened the back door of the cruiser and assisted Gloria as she stepped out of it.

  Gloria’s eyes watered when she saw Rosa was already there. “Oh, Rosa! I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “It’s all right,” Rosa said, feeling not at all like things were all right. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

  Miguel flashed her a warning look. “I’m afraid you’ll have to refrain from speaking for the time being.”

  Rosa protested, “Miguel!”

  “It’s not personal,” Miguel said gently. “Delvecchio is a stickler for protocol, and in this situation, I have to agree.”

  Rosa begrudgingly admitted to the wisdom of that. Otherwise, Aunt Louisa might have a leg to stand on, Miguel could lose his job, and worse, things could go terribly wrong for Gloria. Rosa hadn’t felt this miserable since the moment, halfway down the aisle in St. George’s Church in London, when she was struck with a moment of clarity and knew she couldn’t go through with her nuptials.

  Gloria repeatedly looked over her shoulder at Rosa as they made their way inside and through the precinct. Rosa tried to keep her face from showing panic and simply offered her cousin a smile and a nod each time she looked back. Miguel guided Gloria into an interrogation room, the same one Rosa had sat in with Jimmy Thompson less than twelve hours before.

  Miguel held up a palm and shook his head. “You know you can’t join in on this one, right?”

  “Of course, I know. Just, you’ll have to wait for her lawyer, won’t you?”

  “I’m certain one is on the way.”

  “Yes, right, but—”

  Miguel stepped close and spoke into Rosa’s ear. “You can watch through the mirror. Just don’t draw attention to yourself.” He walked away without looking back at her, and Rosa felt immense gratitude.

  Confirming that the coast was clear, Rosa eased open the door to the room on the other side of the one-way mirror and slipped inside. She watched as Miguel offered Gloria a half-smile. A second later, a wooden speaker mounted on the wall crackled to life and through it, she heard him ask, “Can I get you coffee or water?”

  Gloria, sitting stiffly in one of the hard wooden chairs, nodded. “Water.”

  Miguel gave Detective Sanchez a quick nod, and the officer left on what Rosa presumed was a run for water. She tapped on the mirror.

  Both Miguel and Gloria turned toward the sound, Gloria looking perplexed and Miguel looking cross. As she hoped, Miguel excused himself and joined her behind the mirror.

  “Rosa?”

  “I just need to know what happened at the Lobster Bar. Her alibi didn’t check out, did it?”

  Miguel suddenly looked very tired. Rosa thought he was about to dismiss her, but then he said, “The manager of the Surfside Lobster Bar, a Mr. Richard Hollick, is well acquainted with the Forrester family. He knew Clarence by name, and Gloria, Louisa, and even Louisa’s late husband, Harold.”

  “And?”

  “Richard Hollick claimed he hadn’t seen Gloria Forrester in at least a year.”

  Rosa opened her mouth, but before she could ask, Miguel answered her next question.

  “I also interviewed three of the waitresses who claimed to know Gloria Forrester. They didn’t see her last night. Have you been to the restaurant?”

  Rosa shook her head. “No.”

  “It’s not a big place. Gloria couldn’t have used their restroom facilities without someone seeing her. In fact, we must assume, since they are confirmed acquaintances, that Gloria would’ve extended a greeting to someone. At any rate, without a witness that can place Gloria at the Lobster Bar during that time, she doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “That doesn’t mean she killed Victor Boyd.”

  “No, but her lying about her whereabouts demands further investigation. I was able to connect with your friend Joyce Welks through Detective Sanchez’s contacts, and she insisted that Gloria had an intense hatred for Victor Boyd. Do you know about her history with Boyd? Or her feelings toward him?”

  “Everyone in school hated Victor Boyd,” Rosa murmured as if this information would somehow make up for the fact that her cousin had blatantly lied. “But she was a lot younger than him. For all I know, she didn’t have reason to know him at all.”

  “Speaking of Victor Boyd,” Miguel said. “Sanchez looked into the census for the Boyd family. Turns out that Victor’s father, Joseph Boyd, wasn’t killed in the war. He was, in fact, the man I’d interviewed, alive and well. Sanchez spoke to him in person and confirmed it.”

  Rosa ducked her chin in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would Victor have lied about such a thing? If he was that desperate to fit in or to feel people’s compassion, wouldn’t he have been nicer to everyone?”

  Rosa was processing out loud, but Miguel answered her anyway.

  “His dad’s so-called death was a cover-up for where he really went.” Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. “Mr. Joseph Boyd was imprisoned in December 1941 on charges of draft evasion and participation in a draft-card burning.”

  Somehow Victor Boyd’s extreme badgering of several of the other students at school now made sense. While other parents were dying with honor in the war or helping the war effort, Victor’s father had been dishonored. Victor had lied so that no one would discover the real reason his father was out of the picture.

  Miguel mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before backing out the room, and Rosa was once again alone behind the one-way mirror.

  Miguel stepped back into the interrogation room just as Gloria’s lawyer arrived. The man, dressed in his brown suit with gray hair trimmed short, looked vaguely familiar. Rosa assumed she had met him at some point during her younger years when she’d been in Aunt Louisa’s company.

  After delivering the glass of water to Gloria, Detective Sanchez sat opposite the lawyer and set up the reel-to-reel recording equipment. Miguel took the remaining chair.

  Gloria’s eyes were glossy with apprehension, and Rosa felt immense sympathy. She knew what it was like to be in her cousin’s position. As Vivien Eveleigh’s best friend, Rosa had automatically been put on the suspects’ list for her murder, and even though she was soon cleared, the experience of being questioned as if she could be capable of murder had shaken her.

  “I’m assuming you’ve refrained from asking my client any questions until I arrived?” the lawyer said.

  “Of course, Mr. Nabor,” Miguel replied. “But now that we are all here, let’s begin.”

  Detective Sanchez turned on the recording equipment. After stating the location of the station, the date, and the room number, he gave the names of those in attendance.

  Miguel cleared his throat. “Miss Forrester, we’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the death of Victor Boyd.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Gloria blurted.

  Mr. Nabor raised a hand in warning. “Miss Forrester, I must remind you that you’re not required to answer.”

  “I want to get this straighten
ed out.” She splayed open her hands. “I didn’t kill Victor, and I don’t know who did.”

  Miguel appeared unfazed by Gloria’s outbursts. “What were your feelings toward Mr. Boyd?”

  Rosa pinched her lips. She wished Miguel wouldn’t bring up hearsay, but she knew it would come up in court anyway, should it get to that. Better to get to the root of the matter now, but still, it rankled Rosa to watch it.

  “I didn’t care for him,” Gloria answered, “but I didn’t think he should die. More like go to jail.”

  “How did you know this boy who was so much older than you in school?” Miguel asked.

  Rosa wondered the same thing.

  Gloria glanced at Mr. Nabor, who repeated, “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.”

  Rosa silently urged Gloria to speak freely and honestly. Quieting herself now would only make her appear guilty.

  Gloria placed her hands flat on the table and looked down at them. “When I was eleven, I had an . . . encounter with Victor at school.”

  “An encounter?” Miguel pressed. “Do you mean he attacked you?”

  “Oh Lord!” Rosa’s hands flew to her mouth. How had she never known this?

  But Gloria explained. “Not attacked, exactly. He ripped a gold pendant from my neck. It had been a gift from my dad before he went off to war and was my most prized possession. At the time, we hadn’t heard from Daddy for several months, and in fact, we didn’t hear from him ever again, so the loss of the pendant was heartbreaking to me. Victor said if I told anyone, he’d find me and make sure I never talked about anything again. I ended up lying to my mother; I told her I’d lost it. She was so upset, calling me careless and irresponsible.”

  Rosa felt a wave of pity for Gloria.

  Gloria finished her account by saying, “It took me years before I could even speak about Victor at all.”

  “So, Victor Boyd threatened you?” Miguel confirmed in a soft voice. Gloria nodded; her gaze still fixed on her hands.

  The confirmation gave Gloria a motive.

  Rosa yelled in the soundproof room. “She was eleven!”

  Detective Sanchez shifted in his chair. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to speak for the sake of the recording, Miss Forrester.”

  Appearing fragile and childlike, Gloria swallowed then said, “Yes.”

  Miguel made a show of referring to his notes. “Miss Forrester, I understand that you were involved in parts building and electrical wiring at an aircraft plant during the war. Is that correct?”

  Gloria pulled back; her forehead creased. “No. I was too young to work anywhere. Where did you hear that?”

  Rosa sucked in a breath, knowing exactly where Miguel had heard the misinformation. She, herself, had told him that all the girls but Pauline and Marjorie worked at the aircraft plant during their school days. He had obviously taken it to mean Gloria as well.

  Miguel made a note and then moved on to a new line of questioning.

  “Miss Forrester, why did you check out a textbook on the electrician trade from the library?”

  “Those were for Clarence! He knew I was going to the library and asked me to check them out.”

  Rosa’s mind calculated this new information rapidly. Clarence wasn’t anywhere near being on the suspect list. As far as she knew, he hadn’t been to the fair that night. However, it wasn’t like Rosa would necessarily have seen him if he had been. The boardwalk had been extremely crowded.

  “For the sake of the recording,” Detective Sanchez said, “Please state your relationship to Clarence Forrester.”

  “Clarence is my brother, older by two years,” Gloria said. She narrowed her gaze at Miguel. “How did you know?”

  “I visited the library today, Miss Forrester,” Miguel said, “And checked out a textbook on electricity with your name in it myself.”

  If Rosa hadn’t been put off her game by Miguel’s unexpected presence, she would’ve continued looking for incriminating textbooks.

  “Did Clarence say why he wanted that particular book?” Miguel asked.

  “They were for our groundsman, Bernardo Diaz. The breakers in the electrical panel of the pool house kept tripping.”

  Miguel lifted his chin. “Why not just hire an electrician?”

  “Bernardo insisted that he knew how to do it. He likes to call himself a ‘Jack of all trades’. I think he’s afraid of losing his job to someone more educated, but Mom would never fire him. He, Bledsoe, and Señora Gomez are like family. Clarence thought Bernardo might appreciate learning from a college textbook.”

  “And do a decent job in return,” Miguel said.

  Gloria nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Miss Forrester, you told your cousin, Rosa Reed, that you were going to the Surfside Lobster Bar at approximately eight p.m. last night, is that correct?”

  In little more than a whisper, Gloria said, “That’s what I told Rosa, yes.”

  Detective Sanchez glanced at Miguel before scribbling notes on a pad of paper.

  Miguel continued, “But you didn’t go there.”

  “No.”

  “Where did you go?”

  Gloria glanced up at the window as if she knew Rosa was standing behind it. She hesitated a long moment, then answered. “At the boardwalk, I danced with a man I met from my ballroom dancing class. And well, we’ve grown fond of each other, and he’s charming. After dancing together, he asked me if I wanted to go for a drive in his new convertible. I couldn’t resist.” She looked down at her lap again.

  “And you went with this man?” Miguel confirmed.

  “Yes. Yes, I did go with him.”

  “And what was this gentleman’s name?” Miguel asked.

  Again, Gloria glanced at the window. When she looked back at Miguel, she asked, “Do I have to say?”

  “It would help prove your innocence in this case if we could place you somewhere else, Miss Forrester, and if this gentleman would vouch for your presence in his car when the murder was committed, you’d be free of all allegations.”

  Swallowing with difficulty, Gloria took a sip of her water before asking, “And who would find out what I tell you?”

  “This conversation will go in my report. Who are you concerned will learn about it?”

  Gloria still did not look up. “My mother.”

  “If we could confirm your alibi for last night, there would be no reason for us to share it with your mother,” Miguel said.

  Gloria finally raised her head. “His name is Alfred. Alfred Yang. I’ve only known him for a few weeks, but he’s brilliant, and . . .”

  Ah, now Rosa understood. Gloria liked a foreign man, and by the sound of his last name, he was Chinese, something Rosa knew keenly that Aunt Louisa wouldn’t be able to tolerate. She and Miguel had once suffered because of her aunt’s prejudices. How ironic that Miguel was the one questioning Gloria right now.

  “I could never tell my mother,” Gloria continued. “She would forbid it—more than that, she wouldn’t look at me the same way again.” She appealed to Miguel with earnestness. “This was the first time we’ve chanced meeting up anywhere together.”

  As if she suddenly remembered who was sitting next to her, Gloria gaped at Mr. Nabor with a new look of horror. “You can’t tell her, can you?”

  Mr. Nabor grunted. “Rest assured, Miss Forrester, you and I have lawyer-client privilege. I’m forbidden by law from mentioning anything said in this interview.”

  “Even though my mom is paying you?”

  “Even so.”

  “To confirm for the record,” Miguel said, “you were with this Mr. Alfred Yang the entire time you were apart from your cousin Rosa Reed? Would he attest to this?”

  Gloria’s head snapped toward Miguel. “You’re not going to bring him in, are you?”

  “I don’t know if that will be necessary,” Miguel said in an encouraging tone, but we will need to track down Mr. Yang at some point to corroborate your story. Can you tell us how we can get ahold of
him?”

  “Please, don’t call his home. We’re trying to keep this away from our families. At least for now.” Gloria stared hard at Miguel. “Please?”

  Miguel let out a short breath. “When is your next dance class, Miss Forrester?”

  19

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that is over,” Gloria said, flopping back into the passenger seat of the Bel Air.

  My sentiments exactly, Rosa thought as she turned on the ignition.

  “Miguel let me watch from the other side of the glass. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I figured, and I’m glad. It might not have looked like it, but I imagined you behind the mirror, and I felt less alone.” Gloria shook her shoulders and blew out a loud breath. “I feel surprisingly light, getting all of that out in the open.”

  “I’m sorry you were afraid to tell me about what Victor did to you.” Rosa glanced away from the road just long enough so Gloria could see her sincerity. “It was so easy to be angry during the war. He directed his anger at everyone around him. It was like he was spraying them with a hose. I’m so sorry to hear you were caught in it.”

  “I wasn’t alone. I haven’t heard everyone’s stories about Victor, but I’ll bet there are more like mine.”

  Rosa turned the corner that led to the Forrester mansion. “Can you think of anyone who might be angry enough with Victor Boyd to go through with murder?”

  Gloria shook her head, but then she stopped mid-shake. She turned to Rosa. “Wait. Do you remember when Marjorie first pointed out Victor at the fair?”

  “Sure.” Rosa nodded.

  “And do you remember when Nancy Kline leaned over to whisper something to me?”

  Rosa wasn’t sure if she remembered that, but they’d just been reacquainted, and Rosa’s thoughts were torn between their damaged friendship and Miguel’s dynamic performance with his band. “I’m not sure. What did she whisper to you?”

  “She said if she got the chance, she’d push Victor onto his roller coaster track. She said that would be exactly what he deserved, right there in the middle of the fair where everyone could see it.” Gloria shook her head. “She was joking, though. She has an alibi, right?”