The Starry Night of Death

by Lawrence J Epstein

  With that, she jumped up and ran out of the house.

  I turned to my father. “Do you want me to go after her?”

  “No, Danny. When your daughter runs away from you, you have to let her go. I can’t change the past. I can’t change how she feels about me. I can’t tell her not to be ashamed or frightened. But she took a big first step today. She showed up. Maybe next time she will bring her family for support. Maybe she’ll bring your brother. I caused this, so it is up to me to be patient.”

  I nodded.

  I was struggling in my mind about whether or not to ask him for the money. I finally decided that she wouldn’t take his money. I considered asking for it myself and then telling her the money came from me. But I didn’t want to lie to my sister. And I didn’t want to ask him for money either.

  We ate the chocolate cake in silence.

  Then my father said, “Danny, if your sister won’t tell me about her life, please tell me about yours.”

  “I may have a case, Dad. Did you read about the murder in Waterbend?”

  “No. I haven’t listened to the radio or television or read any papers. Mr. Van Gogh has kept me busy. Who got killed?”

  “The wife of a lawyer from there. Jesse Spring. I...”

  “Wait a minute. This Jesse Spring. Is he any relation to Charles Spring from Waterbend? He must be. It’s not a big town.”

  “I don’t know, Dad. Why?”

  My father’s face became pale, as though the reddishness that gave it life was drained out by what he had heard.

  “Dr. Charles Spring treated your mother’s pancreatic cancer. He was extraordinary. She...”

  He stopped talking.

  “She what, Dad?”

  “She had pain in her upper abdomen. She thought it was from what she ate, so she ignored it. Then it went around to her back.”

  “And she ignored that as well,” I said.

  “Yes. But I was her husband. I should have driven her to the hospital. Or made her go to the doctor.”

  “You couldn’t force Mom to do anything. That’s why you loved her.”

  He ignored me. “She finally went when she started losing weight for no reason. Dr. Spring gave her a physical exam and sent her for tests. She had a swollen gall bladder.”

  My father lowered his head and waited.

  “It was too late, Danny. But the doctor didn’t stop. I don’t know how, but he understood what she needed to hear. He was calm. He was honest. He told her the odds and then told her stories of miracles and people who had beaten the odds. There was an operation. He opened her, took a look, saw that the cancer had spread too much, and closed her back up. She had to go home and wait to die.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. But I didn’t have to say a word. My father would speak for both of us.

  “The doctor was a faithful caregiver. They both knew she was going to die. And soon. But he visited. He brought fruit or little candies. He made her laugh. There she was lying down, standing metaphorically in the line of people waiting to die, and he was telling her jokes. She used to tell me he deserved some prize for helping her so much. I think what she most appreciated was that he didn’t abandon her. A lot of people run away from the sick and dying like the illness is catching. He ran toward them. I’ll never forget her last night alive.”

  “Was I there, Dad?”

  “No, Danny. The cancer had distorted your mother’s face. I made the choice that looking at her would have scared you. She was going to die anyway, and I wanted you to remember her the way you knew her to be. Anyway, it was the last night. I sat in a chair next your mother’s bed. The doctor came in and stood over her. I don’t see how anyone, even a doctor, could get used to looking at someone with a face so distorted. And then she reached out for his hand. He took it and spoke softly to her. I swear her face brightened. He was there to comfort her, to help her make the journey. She was alive and then she wasn’t. And Dr. Charles Spring was there to help her to the very end.”

  My father turned to me. “Listen, Danny. You’ve got to find out if this Jesse Spring you’re trying to help is related to Dr. Charlie. If he is, I will do anything, anything at all, to help you.”

  “I’ll find out, Dad.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that if Mrs. Lucey decided we shouldn’t take the case, then I wouldn’t be trying to help Jesse Spring at all.

  I asked my father if I could use his phone. I made several calls. First, I called Don Edwards, Spring’s lawyer. A secretary helped me. She said that Mr. Spring’s late father was, indeed, a doctor named Charles. Then I called Mrs. Lucey and asked for an emergency meeting.

  She agreed.

  I didn’t tell her the two matters I needed to speak to her about.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mrs. Lucey lived in Old Field, a wealthy enclave on the north shore. She was out that day, however, and asked to meet me at the Mall.

  We met at a clothing store and walked together to the Food Court. She waited until I got her some Chinese food and we started eating.

  “My son won’t let me have this. He says a woman my age should be more dignified and be more conscious of my health. I tell him, look at the Chinese. They’re plenty healthy.”

  “It would be torture to give up Chinese food,” I said.

  “So true, Mr. Ryle. Let me have some more bites, and you can tell me what you want to. I can see it in your face.”

  I nodded, ate some more, and waited for her to tell me to continue.

  She stopped and said, “I like shopping. It makes me feel better when I’m sad. Isn’t that terrible? Why should buying something improve my mood? The country has done that. The advertisers, I should say. They have connected consumption with a sense of satisfaction when there is no real connection. Oh, my. My father owned a chain of stores. I guess I didn’t learn much from him.”

  “Maybe it’s the society teaching us that, Mrs. Lucey, and maybe it’s that the society has identified a crucial fact about human nature.”

  “I much prefer speaking with stupid people, Mr. Ryle. I feel so much more superior when I do that. All right, I’ve left you dangling long enough. What is it you want of me?”

  “I would like an advance on my salary. Rather a large advance if possible.”

  “And how much exactly is this large advance?”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Are you planning to purchase a small country?”

  “No. It’s a personal matter.”

  “Not when the money is mine, it’s not personal. Are you in some kind of trouble, Mr. Ryle?”

  I shook my head. “No. But someone I know is. In big trouble.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Ryle. I cannot provide such funds based on what you’ve told me. You’re hopelessly vague. It’s a lot of money and a little bit of information. I’ll listen if you wish to say more. Otherwise, I’ll concentrate on the food.”

  I knew Gertrude Lucey to be a good and decent and discreet woman.

  “Even I don’t know all the details, Mrs. Lucey, but I know enough of them. My sister Marlene is married. She has a wonderful family. Her husband injured himself. The family has no money. Life is expensive when you’re raising children. They ran out of whatever money they had, and so they borrowed it. But not from a bank. They had insufficient collateral. So they went outside the law.”

  Mrs. Lucey stared at me.

  “Before she knew it, what with what she needed and the excessive interest, she was over her head in debt. And then the horrid man who lent her the money gave them a brief time to pay what they owe.”

  “Or what?”

  “Physical violence.”

  “Mr. Ryle. You act as though I am an old woman. You’re so delicate, as though I’ll faint from horror when I hear the facts. ‘Physical violence’ indeed. You’re not talking to a child. What did he say he’d do?”

  “Pour acid in the face of someone in the family.”

  She didn’t flinch.

  “When I was you
ng, my father had a store in another state. The store was next to a large grocery store. One day the owner of the grocery store came to my father and said there was going to be a fire in the grocery store that weekend. Did my father want the fire to extend to his store? No, my father said, he did not. In that case, the owner of the grocery store said, my father should be sure not to be in town that weekend. I say this to you, Mr. Ryle, because I understand how the criminal underworld works. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen much worse than I said. Who would be the victim of this acid attack?”

  “The man didn’t say. I take it that was part of the terror. Make Marlene picture the children or herself with a horribly deformed face. My guess is he wouldn’t do it to the husband, because the husband would be the one to get money eventually. I’d like to believe that no human is so low as to do that to children.”

  “The Nazis killed almost two million Jewish children, Mr. Ryle. They used some for experiments. Your very humanity blocks you from seeing the depth of evil in the world.”

  “I’d prefer to be naïve, Mrs. Lucey. It would be far too painful to live in a world where I thought people could do that.”

  “So you think this man will attack your sister?’

  “Yes.”

  “As it happens, I agree with you. He may be just bluffing, trying to force the family to pay. But he may not be bluffing.”

  Mrs. Lucey reached down and retrieved her purse. She sat back up, opened the purse, and withdrew a checkbook. She wrote out a check and handed it to me.

  It was for fifty thousand dollars.

  “Mrs. Lucey, it will take me years to repay you, and I only need twenty-five thousand for this immediate problem.”

  “Mr. Ryle, this is not an advance on your salary. This is a gift to your sister and her family. She should pay this vicious excuse for a human being so she’s debt free and use the rest to get the family to stand on its own again.”

  “Mrs. Lucey, you’re already very generous to me and Ari and Betsy. I admit I’m overwhelmed. You’re saving a family.”

  “What do you think I need the money for, Mr. Ryle? A yacht? A villa in Italy? No. I live the way I wish to. And part of the way I wish to live is to help people who need it. That is the very purpose of the organization I started with you. If I can’t help people, the money I have is obscene in the face of poverty and homelessness and starvation. For my own sake, I need to use it when I find someone who genuinely needs help. I don’t want to hand it over to someone who will keep a large part and never give the rest to those who need it.”

  “Mrs. Lucey, on behalf of our family, I am speechless. Thank you.”

  She nodded.

  “You have a face that says that you have not finished your thoughts, Mr. Ryle. Do you have more to say?”

  “I do. In fact, it’s about the organization. There is a case I have come across and I need your permission to pursue it.”

  “This is the murder case in Waterbend?”

  “It is.”

  “I saw a headline about it. Provide a very rough outline of the details.”

  I nodded. “A lawyer named Jesse Spring has been arrested for murdering his wife. Mr. Spring and his lawyer asked me to help.”

  “And his lawyer is?”

  “Someone you know. Don Edwards.”

  “Is Mr. Spring guilty of the crime?”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Lucey.”

  I told her the details of the crime.

  She sat back and considered what I had to say.

  “It was his gun?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Mr. Ryle, I don’t pretend to have your inductive powers, starting with a clue or two and figuring out a whole picture. But I’m also not an imbecile. If he didn’t do it, someone broke into the house and shot her with his gun. Doesn’t this sound most unlikely to you?”

  “It does on the face of it.”

  “Are there any other suspects?”

  “I haven’t spoken with the police and I haven’t begun my own investigation. So I don’t know.”

  “In the abstract then. Who could have done it?”

  “I suppose in theory someone could have stolen his revolver and shot his wife to frame him.”

  “And when did he last use the weapon?”

  “That afternoon. He was at target practice.”

  “So you suggest after this target practice someone took the gun, went to his house, and shot his wife?”

  “He was there at the time. But outside. It was at night.”

  “Mr. Ryle, I know a good murder stirs your blood, but in this case you should calm down and leave it to the police. You have no personal reason to get involved, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “That would be different. And Mr. Spring does not seem to be without the funds to hire a lawyer to defend himself. A very expensive lawyer. Am I correct?”

  “He has money.”

  “And there is absolutely no evidence that he has been framed? Or that the police have bungled the investigation in any way?”

  “No. The police are quite competent.”

  “So they are. Tell me then, Mr. Ryle, what is the justification of our organization getting involved? We are there for specific reasons.”

  “I understand, Mrs. Lucey. It’s just that Mr. Spring asked me directly. I was visiting the jail on another matter and saw him. He seemed sincere and scared. He may have resources, but even someone with resources needs help sometimes. As you well know.”

  She understood I was referring to a case involving her son.

  “I don’t want you to take this case. Let us wait for someone in trouble. It may not be as interesting as murder, Mr. Ryle, but it may be as important to the person involved.”

  “Please reconsider, Mrs. Lucey.”

  “Mr. Ryle, if you wish to examine only murder cases, you should quit being a political fixer and become a private investigator.”

  “I can’t afford to do that. And there aren’t enough murders. I’d have to move to New York City or L.A. or maybe even Chicago, and there are already a lot of investigators there.”

  “Then stick to our understanding. At any rate, Kenneth is brand new to Congress. You work for him as well. What have you done for that part of your job?”

  “I’ve given him lots of political advice. I’ve done briefings before he did press conferences. I’ve introduced him to a variety of interesting characters who can help off the record. I’ve...”

  She put up her hand.

  “Enough. You go into the Congressional office and work there for a bit. I want my son to succeed. You were the one to tell me, Mr. Ryle, that the day you’re elected you begin your campaign for re-election. Help Kenneth be a great Congressman. That is part of his re-election efforts. Help him in whatever way you can. Put this murder business aside. Do we understand each other?”

  I nodded.

  “Thank you for saving Marlene.”

  “She’s lucky she has you as a brother.”

  I said good-bye to Mrs. Lucey.

  I had a few tasks to do first, but if she thought I was going to walk away from a murder, Mrs. Lucey didn’t know me very well.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I went home and gave the check to Marlene. She was overcome.

  “Is this real, Danny?”

  “It’s real and it’s unique, Marlene. You won’t get another one.”

  “I won’t need another one. I swear, Danny.”

  My sister had led a good and honest life, so I believed her. She went to call her husband.

  Ari, Betsy, and I sat at the kitchen table. Ari made the worst coffee in New York State so whenever he volunteered to make some, Betsy or I jumped up to say we would do it.

  Betsy was quicker than I was and she was off to make three large mugs of steaming energy.

  We sipped a bit and then we were ready.

  I told them the whole story about Jesse Spring and the murder of his wife.

  Betsy turned her hands over and sat there
palms up. “I don’t know, Danny. I was never a rule-follower when I was a cop, but this is our employer telling you very explicitly that we’re not going to take the case. If she finds out, which she inevitably will, that may be our funding. You work for the Congressman. Ari and I don’t. We need the job.”

  “I promise not to do anything in public. I’ll get others to do it. Anyway, I have two things to do before I begin. Maybe in the meantime the police will have gathered some useful evidence.”

  “What’s first, Danny?”

  “It’s your kind of problem, Ari. My sister’s friend has a husband who beats her. Badly enough to go to the hospital in at least two cases. His name is Jimmy Marvin. We’re going to use the gentle arts of persuasion to convince him to become a pacifist.”

  “Do we buy him a pet unicorn too?” Ari asked.

  “All right, so we use some threats. But no violence, Ari. I mean it.”

  “You Americans are very weak. You have two oceans to protect you and you forget what it’s like to have an enemy next to you. In Israel we have enemies all around us.”

  “Fine. But we’re not in Israel. We’re in Suffolk County where violence sends people to jail or in your case to be deported. We stay within the law.”

  “Who is this Jimmy guy?”

  “He sells automobiles. And I guess when he doesn’t sell them he beats up his wife.”

  Ari stared at me. “And we’re just going to talk with him?”

  “That’s right.”

  We drove over to Middle Island where Jimmy Marvin worked.

  “You want me to make the approach?” Betsy asked. “He probably thinks women are weak and stupid. Maybe I can ask him about his wife in a way that you guys can’t.”

  I checked my watch.

  “It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s get him someplace away from work. It’s my responsibility, Betsy. It’s my sister who’s his wife’s friend. But I need you both.”

  I told them my plan.

  About fifteen minutes later, Jimmy Marvin came out the front door and walked over to his car. It was big and blue. He drove. Ari followed him. Ari wouldn’t lose anyone on the road because Ari would drive on a sidewalk or lawn if necessary to keep up with the car he was tailing.