by Gorman, Ed
I digested that. With a twinkle showing in Julius’s right eye, he informed me that he was going to be spending the rest of the afternoon at the Belvedere Club sampling some of their fine cognacs, and that I should call his three o’clock appointment and cancel. A blond woman in her early thirties smiled at Julius, and he noticed and veered off in her direction, a grin growing over his own lips. Her physical characteristics closely matched those of the actress Heather Locklear, which would’ve told me she was very attractive even without Julius’s reaction to her. This was not good. If Julius blew off his three-o’clock, it could be a month or longer before I’d be able to talk him into taking another job, which would be a month or longer before I’d have a chance to adjust my deductive reasoning model — and what was becoming more important to me, a chance to trump Julius at solving a case.
“You might like to know I’ve located a case of Romanée Conti Burgundy at the Wine Cellar in Newburyport. I need to place the order today to reserve it,” I said.
That stopped Julius in his tracks.
“Nineteen ninety-seven?”
“Yes, sir. What should I do?”
He was stuck. He’d been looking for a case of that particular vintage for months, but the cost meant he’d have to take a job to pay for both the wine and the upcoming monthly expenses, which meant he wouldn’t have time to get to know the Heather Locklear look-alike.
Julius made up his mind. With a sigh he told me that the Belvedere Club would have to wait, that we had a three o’clock appointment to keep. He showed the blond woman a sad, wistful smile, his look all but saying, “I’m sorry, but we’re talking about a ‘ninetyseven Romanée Conti after all,” and with determination in his step he headed towards the exit again. Once outside, he hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address to his Beacon Hill townhouse. I had known about the Romanée Conti for several days, but had held on to the information so I could use it at the appropriate time, one of the lessons I had learned from the Rex Stout books. Internally, I was smiling. At least that was the image I had of myself. A five-foot tall, balding, chunky man, who couldn’t keep from smiling if his life depended on it.
• • •
Julius’s three o’clock appointment, Norma Brewer, arrived on time and was accompanied by her sister, Helen Arden. According to Norma Brewer’s records, which I had obtained from the Department of Motor Vehicles database, she was fifty-three, but sitting across from Julius, she looked older than that, bone-thin and very tired. Her sister Helen was much plumper in the face and very thick around the middle. She showed a perpetually startled look, almost as if she were expecting someone to sneak up on her and yell boo. According to her DMV records, she was forty-eight, but like her sister, looked older, with an unhealthy pallor to her skin and her hair completely gray.
Before they arrived I filled Julius in on the little I knew — including information I’d gathered about Norma Brewer from various other databases, including her bank records, which were healthy, and the fact that this concerned a family matter that Norma Brewer didn’t feel comfortable discussing with me over the phone. Julius didn’t like it at all, and I could tell he was ruminating on whether there was a way to cancel the appointment and still afford the case of Romanée-Conti Burgundy. If there was, he was unable to come up with it. He sat deep in his thoughts until the doorbell rang, then, forcing an air of politeness, he welcomed the two Brewer sisters into his townhouse and escorted them to his office.
Now they sat across from him. Almost immediately Norma Brewer noticed the receiver in his ear and showed a condescending smile, thinking it was a hearing aid. That was not an uncommon reaction, but still, it caused the skin to tighten around Julius’s mouth. I reminded him then how long it had taken to locate the Romanée Conti, knowing that he was within seconds of telling Norma Brewer that something had come up and that he would have to cancel their appointment. Her sister, Helen, seemed oblivious, never noticing the device in Julius’s ear or his flash of petulance.
“Mr. Katz, I am very grateful to you for seeing us,” Norma started, her voice louder than it should’ve been, obviously due to her thinking that Julius was hard of hearing. Not only was her voice loud, it had a shrill quality to it that made Julius wince. “I understand that you are quite the recluse, and very particular with the cases you choose.”
Julius signaled with his hand for her to lower her voice. “Miss Brewer, please, I am not deaf. There is no reason to shout.” He smiled thinly. “The device in my ear is not a hearing aid, but an advanced new piece of technology that acts as a lie detector.”
I made note of that ploy. It was complete rubbish, of course, but it did seem to have an effect on Norma Brewer, causing her eyes to open wider. Her sister Helen remained oblivious.
“Oh,” she remarked.
“Precisely,” Julius said, nodding. He made no effort to correct her about his being reclusive, or about how choosy he was concerning the cases he took. He was often about town — either gambling, womanizing, or dining at Boston’s more upscale restaurants. About his being choosy with the cases he accepted, quite the opposite. He accepted them based purely on necessity and, as I mentioned before, only when his bank account reached levels that threatened his more treasured pursuits.
Norma Brewer composed herself, pushing herself up straighter in her chair. “It’s fascinating what they can come up with these days, isn’t it, Helen?” she said. Her sister grunted noncommittally. Norma Brewer turned back to Julius. “Your secretary, whom I spoke with over the phone, Archie, I believe his name was, is he going to be joining us?”
“I’m afraid Archie is otherwise occupied. Now, this matter you would like to engage me in?”
Norma Brewer gave her sister a quick look before addressing Julius. “Mr. Katz, this is a sensitive matter,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do we have your confidentiality?”
“I’m not an attorney,” Julius said gruffly. His fingers on his right hand drummed along the top of his antique walnut desk. I knew he was weighing how much he wanted that case of Burgundy and whether it was worth putting up with these two to get it. He made his decision and his drumming slowed. “You do, however, have my discretion,” he promised her, his tone resigned. “Please explain what you’d like to hire me for.”
Norma Brewer again caught her sister’s eye before nodding slowly towards Julius, her face seeming to age a decade within seconds. For a moment her skin looked like parchment.
“I have a very difficult family situation. Both my sister and I do. Our mother, Emma, is eighty-three years old and is not doing well.” Her voice caught in her throat. She looked away for a moment, then sharply met Julius’s eyes. “She has the onset of Alzheimer’s.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Brewer.”
Norma Brewer’s expression tightened. She raised a hand as if to indicate that sympathy from Julius was not needed. Her sister Helen remained slumped in her seat, still without expression. It dawned on me that what I had mistaken for dullness in the sister was really exhaustion.
“That’s not even the half of it,” Norma Brewer said. “Our father died six years ago, before the Alzheimer’s showed. He had cancer and knew he was dying, and was able to make preparations, arranging for my younger brother, Lawrence, to have power of attorney for my mother. My father left my mother well provided for, including over two hundred thousand dollars in treasuries, an annuity that covers her current living expenses, and the family house in Brookline, debt free.”
I hacked into the town of Brookline’s real-estate tax database and verified that an Emma Brewer did own a house in South Brookline that was originally bought for forty-five thousand dollars in 1953, and was now valued at close to a million dollars. I relayed the information to Julius, who kept his poker face intact and showed no hint that he had heard me.
“Please continue,” he told her.
“I’ve been spending as much time as I can taking care of my mother,” Norma Brewer said. “Fortunately, I was able
to sell a business a few years ago. I didn’t make enough to allow me to live lavishly, but enough so I can now cut down on my hours and spend my time taking care of my mother. But, as I’ve been discovering, I just don’t have enough time or strength to do it properly. Helen has tried to help also, but she has three teenage children to take care of as a single mother, and I know it’s too much for her — ”
“It really isn’t,” Helen started to say, but a stern look from Norma stopped her. Norma reached over and patted her sister’s hands. “It’s all right, dear,” she said. “You have things hard enough as it is.” Helen stared glumly at her soft, doughy hands folded in her lap. Norma turned back to Julius. “It’s too hard for me, Mr. Katz. My mother needs to be moved to an assisted-living facility where she can be properly taken care of.”
“And your brother Lawrence is against that idea?”
Norma Brewer bit her lip and nodded. Helen looked as if she were going to cry.
“Let me guess, he has since made himself legal guardian of your mother?”
Again, Norma Brewer nodded.
“Do you think he’s been stealing from your mother’s assets?”
Norma Brewer’s expression turned grimmer. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s more that he’s counting on her money, and he’s afraid that if we put her in assisted living there will be nothing left by the time she dies. I’m pretty sure that is what’s behind it. Anyway, he refuses to budge, and keeps insisting that Mother is better off in her own home. Of course, he doesn’t do anything to help take care of her. If I wasn’t going over there daily, she’d starve to death! Or worse, die of dehydration. There would be no food in the house, and there are days she forgets even to drink as much as a glass of water. She needs professional care, Mr. Katz, and I’ve found a good home for her in Vermont. It’s expensive, and a bit far for visiting, but it’s beautiful there, and they provide exceptional care for people like my mother. Healthcare professionals that I’ve consulted have told me that it would be the best place for her.”
Julius absentmindedly rubbed his right index finger along his upper lip. His eyes narrowed as he considered the two sisters.
“What exactly are you planning to hire me for?” he said curtly.
“Why, it should be obvious. I’d like you to talk to my brother and convince him that he should do the right thing for our mother.”
“And how do you propose I do that?”
Norma Brewer’s jaw dropped. Helen looked up, startled.
“You’re the detective,” Norma said. “You’re supposed to be a genius. I assumed you would come up with some scheme to convince my brother.”
“What leverage would I have?” Julius asked.
“I don’t understand — ”
“So far your brother has been within his legal rights in what he’s done. You don’t believe he has been stealing from your mother, so for the moment I will assume that that is the case, and there is no leverage to be gained from that angle. So how am I supposed to persuade him?”
“You could reason with him, couldn’t you?”
Julius made a face. “How am I to do that? We’ve already established that your brother is a blackguard, a parasitic opportunist willing to trade his mother’s well-being for his own financial gain. How am I supposed to reason with someone like that? No, I’m sorry, I don’t like this. Miss Brewer, my advice is that you hire a lawyer and have the courts remove your brother’s guardianship. You could make the claim that he’s neglecting his responsibilities and intentionally endangering your mother’s well-being.”
Norma Brewer shook her head adamantly, her mouth nearly disappearing as she pushed her lips hard together. “My brother’s a lawyer. He could tie this up in the courts for years. I implore you, Mr. Katz, I need your help.”
Julius started drumming his fingers along the surface of his desk again. I knew he wanted an excuse not to take this case. The only thing he disliked more than working was working on a case that involved family disputes, which he found generally unseemly. While he drummed along the desk, I filled him in on what I was able to find out about Lawrence Brewer by hacking into the Massachusetts Bar Association database.
“While I still strongly advise you against hiring me, I will take this assignment if you insist,” Julius said with a pained sigh. “But I will need a retainer check for twenty thousand dollars.”
Twenty thousand dollars would pay for the case of Romanée Conti Burgundy. Norma Brewer took out a checkbook and started to write out a check. Julius stopped her.
“I can’t guarantee results,” he told her. “And it will be left to my discretion how I proceed and for how long. I will need to meet your mother, and if I am not satisfied that she needs the care you claim she does, I will end the assignment immediately. There will be no refund offered. If that is satisfactory to you, then feel free to hire me.”
Norma Brewer hesitated for only a moment, then finished writing out the check. She handed it to Julius, who glanced at it casually and placed it inside the top drawer of his desk.
“I’ll have my assistant, Archie, call you later this afternoon to arrange a time tomorrow morning for me to meet your mother.”
Julius stood up and escorted the two sisters out of the office and towards the front door. Norma Brewer seemed taken aback by the suddenness of this, and commented on how she thought Julius would have more questions for her about her brother.
“Not at this time,” Julius said. “Later, perhaps.”
He hurried her along. Helen meekly allowed herself to be herded with her sister out the door. Norma tried sputtering out some more questions, which Julius met with a few mindless platitudes. Relief washed over his face once he had the door closed and those two out of his home. His townhouse was three levels, not including the basement, which he had converted into a wine cellar. With a lightness in his step, he went down to the cellar and picked out a bottle of 1961 Bordeaux from Chateau Léoville Barton. “Rich, full-bodied, with the barest hint of sweet black fruits,” Julius murmured for my benefit, although it was unnecessary since I had already looked up The Wine Spectator’s report on it. Once we were back upstairs, Julius prepared a selection of cheeses and dried meats, then brought it all out to his garden-level patio where he placed the tray on a table. He sat on a red cedar Adirondack chair that had faded over the years to a muted rust color. The patio was the crown jewel of his townhouse — over two thousand square feet, and Julius had it professionally landscaped with Japanese maples, fountains, a variety of rose bushes, and a vast assortment of other plantings. He opened the Bordeaux and rolled the cork between his forefinger and thumb, testing it, then smelled the cork. Satisfied, he poured himself a glass. I asked him what time I should arrange for him to meet the mother.
He held the wineglass up against the late afternoon light, studied the wine’s composition, then took a sip and savored it. After he put the glass down he told me eleven o’clock would be satisfactory. I called Norma Brewer on her cell phone and arranged it. Afterwards I asked Julius if he wanted me to make an appointment with Norma Brewer’s brother.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said.
I watched as he finished a glass of Bordeaux and poured himself another, then as he sampled the Stilton and Gruyère cheeses that he had brought out with him. I could tell he had put the case completely out of his mind. While Julius drank his wine I performed a database search on the brother. I told Julius this and asked if he would like a report.
“Not now, Archie. We’ll see, maybe later.”
I digested this and came to the obvious conclusion. “You don’t plan on doing any work on this case,” I said. “You’re going to meet the mother and no matter what her condition you’re going to tell your client that you’re dropping the case.”
Julius didn’t bother responding. His eyes glazed as he drank more of the wine.
“You’re just going to take her money and do nothing to earn it.”
“Y
ou’re jumping to conclusions, Archie.”
“I don’t think so.”
He smiled slightly. “I’m still not convinced what you do can be considered thinking.”
“You took her money. You have an obligation — ”
“I’m well aware of my obligations.” He put the glass down and sighed heavily. “It’s a fool’s errand, Archie. If Lawrence Brewer is as his sister says he is, then there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to change his position regarding his mother.”
“You could find something to use against him,” I said. “He’s a lawyer. If you were able to threaten him with disbarment — ”
“Threaten his livelihood?” Julius shook his head. “No, Archie, I believe that would have the opposite effect by making him need his mother’s money all the more. Please, no more of this. Not now, anyway. Let me enjoy my wine, this view, and the late afternoon air.”
“You had no right taking payment unless you were serious about investigating this — ”
My world went black as Julius turned me off.
• • •
Julius seldom turned me off. When he did it was always disorienting when I was turned back on. This time it was especially so, and it took me as much as three-tenths of a second to get my bearings and realize that Julius and I were being jostled back and forth in the backseat of a cab. According to my internal clock it was 10:48 in the morning, and using GPS to track our position, I had us 8.2 miles from Emma Brewer’s home in Brookline.
Julius chuckled lightly. “I hope you had a good rest, Archie.”
“Yeah, just wonderful.” I still felt off-kilter as I tried to adjust my frame of reference from being on Julius’s patio one moment to the inside of a cab now. I told him about this and that I guessed the sensation was similar to what humans felt when they were knocked unconscious by a sucker punch.
“A touch of passive-aggressiveness in that statement, Archie. I’m impressed with how lifelike your personality is developing. But getting back to your comment, I would think it’s more like being put under with anesthesia,” Julius said.
