Murder in San Francisco

by Dianne Harman

  “Nice dog you’ve got there,” Larry said. “Pedigreed?”

  “Yes. He was a gift to me. I don’t think I could ever afford a pedigreed dog,” she said.

  “Well, I’m going to get one of those Argentine Mastiffs. Guess their Spanish name is Dogo Argentino. Hear they’re the most expensive breed you can get. They’re big suckers and great for protection. Want everyone to know that Larry Spitzer can afford the best.”

  Liz tightened her hold on Winston’s leash, because Larry was sitting uncomfortably close to her and it made her nervous. “I thought I knew something about dogs, but that’s a breed I’ve never heard of.”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. They’re pretty rare. I’m thinking about six months from now I’ll be sitting in some penthouse with my Argentinian Mastiff. Believe me, it’s been a long dry spell for me, so I’m looking forward to it. How do you like that beer?” Larry asked with a nod towards Liz’s glass.

  “It’s quite good,” Liz lied, not sharing that she hated beer. “You mentioned Bernie Spitzer. The name kind of rings a bell, but I can’t place him.”

  Larry smiled, revealing stained teeth. “His name was in the papers all the time. He was my dad. He died a couple of months ago, but I just found out today he was murdered, and I’m pretty sure I know who did it.”

  “How sad. I’m so sorry. You say you think you know who did it?”

  “I think so. Thing is, he had a young girlfriend who got herself knocked up after he died by using some of my old man’s sperm he’d deposited in a sperm bank. Guess they passed some law a little while ago about how a woman could have a man’s child after he died. Anyway, she’s pregnant with his kid, actually it’s not just one kid, she’s carrying twins, and the thing is, looks like, according to the law, the kids she’s carrying are going to be entitled to some of my old man’s estate.”

  “I would think that would be a cause for being depressed about everything, not happy.”

  “No, see, here’s the thing. I figure she’ll be charged with his murder. I mean who else would have a motive like that? Sure, me and my sister are his only children, at least so far, but I figure once she’s charged, the stress will cause her to miscarry. She’s a little long in the tooth to be doing the new mommy thing. I mean she’s at the far end of the spectrum.”

  Liz hoped her distaste for Larry wasn’t apparent on her face. “I’m confused. How long has your father been dead?”

  “About four months, but my sister and I figured his girlfriend would never get a red cent. Since he died without a will, my sister and I were his sole heirs, and we were in line to inherit everything. Then she went and got pregnant, and even petitioned the court for a family allowance, so that means her kid is going to get one-third of his estate. Then lo and behold, she finds out she’s carrying twins. That reduced my take to one-fourth.

  “My sister and I figure that’s why she decided to have the kids, so she could get her hands on the money they’re entitled to, but she got greedy. If she’d come to Joni and me, we might have given her something for all the years she was with dad, but not now. It’s war, and with dad being murdered, I think there’s a good chance she’ll get charged with it. At least that’s what our attorney is telling us.”

  Liz took a sip of her beer. The truth was that not only didn’t she like beer, she had a hard time swallowing the bitter flavor of it. “I know nothing about legal things, but let me ask a dumb question. Since you and your sister are the heirs, why wouldn’t either one of you be thought of as possible suspects?”

  He looked around for Stella and motioned he’d like another beer. He glanced over at the beer Liz had in front of her and saw that it was still quite full. “Well, I got that covered. The night the old man died I was in a meeting with a bunch of men. Don’t ask. I’ve had some bad experiences and my sponsor in the twelve-step program said I had to attend a meeting with him. Glad I did, because I’ve got a rock solid gold-plated alibi. Can’t wait to see what her alibi will be.”

  “Wow,” Liz said, her eyes widening. She was glad she’d followed Larry into the bar, because the more he drank, the more he talked, and that was exactly what she wanted him to do. “This sounds like something you’d see on television. What about your sister?”

  “Joni was having a birthday party for her granddaughter, my great-niece. Her alibi is as solid as mine. Twenty parents will testify that she was at home with a bunch of snot-nosed kids running around. Nope, it was my dad’s bimbo that did him in, and she’s going to get hers. First of all, she’ll have a miscarriage, then she’ll go to prison, and then Joni and me will get it all, just the way it was before the bimbo came into the picture.”

  “I volunteered to have a birthday party for my granddaughter in a few weeks,” Liz said with a light laugh. “Wish I could talk to your sister. It’s been so long since I’ve had a child’s birthday party, I have no idea what’s done these days. Any chance you could give me her address and phone number, or would that be too presumptuous?” Liz asked, thinking that could be her entrée to his sister.

  “Sure, she’s a real homebody. Even cans her own apricots and peaches. She’d love to do that. I think she has a couple of pages on Etsy and Pinterest. She’s really into crafts and baking. Here, I’ll write it down for you.”

  He took a business card that had his name and phone number below the word “Entrepreneur.” When he was finished he looked at his watch and said, “I’ve got to leave. Told my sponsor I’d meet him this afternoon for a meeting. He thinks he’s helping me, and I like to humor him. Been nice talking to you,” he said as he put a handful of breath mints in his mouth. He stood up, walked out of the patio, and back into the bar. A few moments later she saw him walking down the sidewalk, headed in the direction of his apartment.

  Liz sat for a moment, stunned at what he was implying. It seemed like the exhuming of Bernie’s body and the autopsy were more for the effect it would have on Michelle rather than anything having to do with trying to determine who murdered Bernie Spitzer. She almost felt sick as she stood, and with Winston on his leash, walked back to her van.

  CHAPTER 23

  Although she already had Joni Toscano’s address, the conversation with Larry had given her the perfect opening. She’d been struggling with how she could go about gaining access to Joni, and using the pretext of asking for information about how to have a successful child’s birthday party was perfect. After she and Winston got in her car she called Joni.

  The phone was answered on the first ring by a tentative female voice. “This is Joni.”

  “Hello, Joni. You don’t know me. My name is Liz Lucas. I know this is going to sound kind of strange, but I was talking to your brother earlier today, and he mentioned that a few months ago you had a birthday party for your granddaughter. I told my daughter we could have my granddaughter’s first birthday party at my home, but quite frankly, I don’t have a clue how to host a birthday party these days. He gave me your address, and although I know I’m probably imposing, I happen to be in the neighborhood and wondered if I could stop by and talk to you for a few minutes. I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”

  Liz had decided to use her former married name, Lucas, the name she’d gone by for so many years, rather than her current married name, on the off chance that Joni’s attorney might have mentioned that Michelle’s attorney was with a law firm who had a well-known defense attorney in it by the name of Roger Langley. She didn’t want Joni to associate the name Langley with her.

  Joni was quiet for several moments and then she said, “I agree it’s a strange request, but I was lucky enough to have some help planning mine, so I guess I can repay the favor. I have to leave in about an hour, but if you could come now, that would be fine.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes. See you then.”

  Joni’s house was located in a lower middle-class neighborhood. There was an old camper in the driveway of the house and a boat in the side yard that was visible from the street. Liz par
ked in front of the house, which was kept up far better than the homes on either side. She and Winston got out of her van.

  Interesting woman, Liz thought. According to her brother she’s willing to do what’s necessary to cause a woman to miscarry, and yet she’s obviously made an attempt to be a good housekeeper. Somehow, I don’t think all of that fits. It will be interesting to see what I can learn about her.

  She rang the doorbell while Winston sat quietly at her side. A moment later she heard a voice ask, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Liz Lucas, Joni. I talked to you a few minutes ago about your granddaughter’s birthday party.”

  The door was opened by a woman who appeared to be in her early fifties, approximately Liz’s age, but the years had been a lot kinder to Liz. Joni had washed-out dishwater brown hair that was shot with grey, and had obviously not sought the help of a hair stylist or colorist.

  She wore no makeup and was dressed in a cheap looking blouse which barely covered the bulging midriff she tried to hide by wearing dark colored polyester pants pulled up high above her waist.

  Joni’s face lit up when she saw Winston. “I didn’t know you were bringing a dog. I love dogs, but Rocco, my husband, won’t let me have one. Is it okay if I pet him?”

  “Absolutely. His name is Winston, and I had to take him to the vet. That’s why he’s with me. If you don’t want me to bring him into your house, I can leave him in my van.”

  “No. I’d love to have him come in. Rocco isn’t allergic to dogs. He just doesn’t like them. Guess one tried to bite him when he was a kid, and he’s never gotten over it. Liz, Winston, please come in. Welcome to my home.”

  They followed Joni into one of the most comfortable homes Liz had ever been in. Joni clearly had a knack for making things, from the freshly baked apple bread Liz saw cooling on a rack in the kitchen to the needlepoint pillows that were scattered on chairs and sofas. The house was spotless. Obviously, Joni’s home was a source of pride to her.

  “Your home is lovely. You clearly have a knack for homemaking. I wish I had your talent.”

  “Thank you. We don’t have a lot of money, so I’ve learned to make do with what I have, and I love to make things. I’m glad you like it. Please, have a seat and help yourself to some apple bread. I baked two loaves just a little while ago. Winston, come here and let me pet you.” She gently stroked Winston and said, “I took a lot of pictures of my granddaughter’s party, and I put them in an album. Would you like to see it?”

  “I’d love to. This is going to save me so much time. Thank you.” For the next twenty minutes Kelly enjoyed the apple bread and looked at the pictures while Joni pretty much planned Liz’s make-believe child’s birthday party.

  Joni closed the last page of the album and turned to Liz. “Any questions?”

  “Well, I do have one. That has to have been the best birthday party any little girl ever had. I’m totally intimidated, and based on what your brother told me, I’m amazed you were able to be so helpful to me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean,” Joni said in a perplexed voice.

  “Your brother mentioned to me that your father had recently died, and that today it was determined that he’d been murdered. I’m so sorry. This must be hard for you.”

  A dark look flitted across Joni’s face and then she said, “My father and I were estranged for many years. I was sorry when he died, but I was far sorrier that we never reconciled. As far as murder goes, yes, Larry called me and told me about the results of the autopsy. I guess my father’s case has been reopened, and now the police are looking for the murderer.”

  “Your brother seems to think that the woman your father had been seeing had a motive for murdering him. He said she thought she could get her hands on the money her children would be entitled to under the law that was recently passed regarding children conceived after the father is deceased.”

  Joni turned away from Liz. When she did, the neckline on her blouse was pulled away from her neck, and Liz saw a dark red bruise. Liz knew enough from the cases that Roger had handled and the conversations they’d had regarding domestic abuse, that there was a good chance Joni was a victim. Her next words convinced Liz.

  “Actually, I don’t think Michelle did it. I honestly think she loved my father, and after the difficult marriage he and my mother had, I was happy for him, even if we were estranged. I know my brother hopes enough pressure will be put on her so she’ll miscarry, and then we’ll each get half of my father’s estate. My husband feels the same way.”

  “Have you talked to the police and told them that?”

  Joni became quite agitated and said, “No, I can’t. I have my reasons.”

  Liz put her hand on Joni’s arm and said, “Does the bruise on your neck have something to do with your decision?”

  “What bruise?” Joni asked, unconsciously moving her hand up to cover her neck.

  “The one on your neck,” Liz said. “I know a little about domestic abuse, and I know this is none of my business, but if you feel you’re in danger, I know someone who has the resources to help you.”

  “No, you’re imagining things. There’s been no domestic abuse. Anyway, Rocco didn’t mean to do it,” she said as she immediately covered her mouth, realizing what she had just said. “Really, Rocco’s a wonderful husband. He grew up in a family where yelling and screaming was normal. He doesn’t mean anything by it. No, we’re just fine. You can ask Larry. They’re really close.”

  “I’ll respect your wishes, Joni, but I want to give you my cell phone number. If you ever want to call me, for any reason, please don’t hesitate to do so.” She knew there was nothing more she could do for Joni. She was just one of the legions of women who were so afraid of their husbands they would do anything to avoid suffering any more emotional or physical abuse.

  Liz stood up and she and Winston walked over to the door. “Joni, thank you, and I wish you well. Remember, if you ever need a friend, I’m here.” She opened the door and as she closed it, she could hear Joni softly crying.

  CHAPTER 24

  Promptly at 5:00 that afternoon, Liz walked into Walter Highsmith’s office, accompanied by Winston. From the looks of the man standing outside the office door, she was certain that Roger had procured the services of bodyguards for Michelle. Liz was the last one there and was surprised when she saw Sean. He normally never attended meetings like this.

  “I know I’m not late, so I’m going to assume that all of you are early,” she said as she sat down next to Roger. Winston put his head on Roger’s knee, indicating he could use a little petting, which Roger was happy to provide.

  “Liz, we haven’t even started. Roger told us that he’d told you about the results of the autopsy which indicated Bernie Spitzer didn’t die from natural causes, but was in fact murdered. I asked Sean to sit in on this meeting, because there’s a good chance Roger and I are going to need him to do some more research on the list of possible suspects. Of course, our main purpose here is to keep Michelle from being charged with murder. Who actually killed Bernie isn’t really a priority of ours. Roger said you’d found out some information, and we’d all like to hear what you’ve discovered,” Walter said.

  Liz looked at the people who were seated in Walter’s spacious office overlooking San Francisco, a view not that different from Roger’s, which made perfect sense since they were both partners in the law firm, although they had different specialties. She noticed how pale looking Michelle was, and could only imagine the strain she was under.

  “Walter, while you and Roger were dealing with the legal aspects concerning the findings of the autopsy, I was able to talk with three of the possible suspects.” She looked over at Sean and said, “Once again, Sean, the information you gave me this morning was excellent. I was able to find all of them rather easily. It’s always good to see you, but I thought your soccer team had practice tonight for the big game tomorrow.”

  “When Roger called with the autopsy information, I c
alled my assistant coach, and he’s taking the practice tonight. The boys will probably be happy I’m not there, because I’m a pretty ruthless when we’re this close to a championship,” he said laughing.

  Liz turned back to the rest of them and said, “Let me start with Jim Brown. He wasn’t in his apartment, but I happened to run into his next-door neighbor. Actually, Michelle, he’s Joe, the doorman at your condominium building. I recognized him from when we were there last night.”

  “He’s very nice,” Michelle said. “I like him a lot. He’s always doing special things for me, like bringing up a package that’s been delivered to me rather than me having to go down and get it. I think he was working there when Bernie bought the condo for me several years ago.”

  “Probably. When I found out where he worked and that he was Jim Brown’s neighbor, I became very suspicious. I thought it would be pretty easy for Jim to gain access to Bernie’s condo through him.”

  “Liz, from the tone of your voice, I’m gathering you changed your mind about that,” Roger said.

  “Yes, I did. Here’s what he told me.” She recounted her conversation with Jim Brown and ended by saying, “After spending time with him, I’m absolutely convinced he didn’t have anything to do with Bernie’s death. He’s in the advanced stage of pancreatic cancer, and from our conversation, I gathered that he’d decided to accept the part he played in his life’s downward spiral. He even mentioned in the past he’d had thoughts of seeking revenge against Bernie Spitzer, but instead all his energy for the past few months had been focused on trying to stay alive. Poor man.”

  Roger had been taking notes the whole time Liz had been talking. He looked up and said, “I agree. I don’t think he’s worth spending time on. You said you’d met with three of the possible suspects. Who were the other two?”