Pretty City Murder

by Robert E. Dunn

In the dark of his office, Larry started thinking. He had confirmed Father Ralph’s affair, and O’Hara sat in jail. It seemed as if the world had come crashing down. What had happened to them? He tried to understand Father Ralph’s desires. He tried to understand O’Hara’s desires. Neither one had self-control. Could he ever forgive them?

  If I didn’t believe in God and His guidance, I might have lost my way.

  The love between a father and his son, or between a husband and his wife, joins them, the way the Holy Spirit joins Father and Son.

  Why don’t people understand?

  The phone rang just before his eyes closed, and he leapt in his chair.

  “Hello, Gerald. Yes. Excellent. Where? I’ll pick you up in...ten minutes. Be waiting outside.” The receiver hit the cradle.

  Larry slapped his police light on the roof before backing out. His radio sputtered and sparked to life, and the dispatcher repeated the code for a female suspect and her location. A mix of pity and indignation kept his thoughts moving, and his siren kept pedestrians plugging their ears.

  This isn’t looking good.

  A vermillion sunset lit the streets and buildings. His call to Father Ralph went to voicemail. A fire engine came out of nowhere, and its siren invaded the interior of the Chevy. He rolled up the window. The fire engine’s bright red lights swept the streets and signaled a race to keep someone alive.

  Gerald hopped in, dressed in a heavy, navy pea coat.

  “Be prepared for anything,” Larry said.

  “I’m ready.”

  A sparkling Venus shown through layered colors of dusty orange and purple above Fort Point.

  Larry saw her sitting on the seawall.

  Gerald left Larry’s side, rushed forward, and put his arm around her. Waves rolled, and seagulls circled for a late catch on white wings that turned and dipped. The salty smell and the structure of the bridge above reminded him of Pablo and imparted a sense of urgency and the purpose for being there.

  In the damp air, Larry took off his stained jacket and threw it on the driver’s seat. Now he was short-sleeved and ready to go. He walked quickly to the seawall.

  “Hello, Pepper.”

  “Hello.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Where have you been?”

  In a weak voice, she said, “I needed some time off. I talked to my aunt. She told me to be truthful.”

  “You know I want to ask you a few more questions and get this over with. Can we move over there under the light?” He gestured toward the fort. She didn’t move. “The waves are very loud.” She was sitting sideways, looking down at the water. Larry found a spot and sat down close to her.

  Larry looked at each successive wave, the upper curls lit by the fort’s spotlight.

  They sat there under a single street light that allowed shadows to fill every layer of the fort’s brick façade. Two sides of the square fortress disappeared into the dark.

  It’s warm, and my sadness is almost, almost gone.

  She raised herself off the seawall’s barnacles and sat down facing Gerald with both of her arms clasped together, each dressed in red. “Gerald bought me a new red sweater a few weeks ago to replace the one I lost.”

  Larry could barely hear Pepper. “Can you answer one or two questions?”

  She looked at Gerald and said, “Yes, I think so.”

  “On the night Cornelius died, there were two pages to him. Both came from the lobby desk phone. Did you page Cornelius?” Larry hoped Gerald’s gentle presence would cajole an answer.

  “Yes, Gerald asked me to page Cornelius.”

  “That’s right, Inspector, I wanted to talk to Cornelius.”

  Larry leaned forward, and his back cracked. He raised his voice, saying, “Gerald, you wanted to speak to Cornelius about borrowing money. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gerald, I would have loaned you some money. Why didn’t you ask?”

  Larry couldn’t see her face and tried to move, but back pain kept him stationary.

  Gerald said, “Pepper, you’re barely managing. I would never ask for money.”

  “Pepper, did you page Cornelius a second time?”

  She turned toward Larry and said, “No.”

  “Who did the page come from? Can you help me?”

  Her voice gained strength as she said, “It could have come from Doris.”

  “Why would she page Cornelius?”

  In a quiver, she responded, “I...I’m not sure.”

  She turned away and faced the thrashing waves. Her dress caught on the barnacles. She lifted herself again and sat down. Barnacles picked at her dress with the slightest movement.

  “Pepper, tell us what happened. Were you at the Security office that night?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Did you go there to get a gun?”

  “I went there during my break. I was angry at Cornelius for having an affair with that woman.”

  All eyes scanned the foam.

  “Pepper, Cornelius did not have an affair with Maureen Daley. She was pregnant by another man and went to Cornelius for help. They searched for an adoption agency...and found one. That’s all.”

  “But there was the e-mail. He said he was in debt and needed money. I knew he was spending too much money on her.”

  “Did you go to the Security office before or after you brought him the money?”

  “Is that important?” she asked. The air was heavy, and she dropped her head.

  Gerald reached around and cradled her face. He let go, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed trembling fingers.

  Pepper weaved before wrenching her hand free.

  Larry saw the red fingernail polish. “What color nail polish were you wearing that night?”

  Suddenly, Pepper’s face brightened. “It was a special nail color. Quan said it was perfect for the night. Black, red, and blue, a shimmery black. I forget the name. I’m confused.”

  “Did you go to the Security office that night?”

  “Yes.”

  Pepper raised her head and looked at Gerald.

  “After or before you brought Cornelius the money?”

  “After.”

  “What time?”

  “After midnight. Gerald had left, I wasn’t sure, but the time was right.”

  “Did you see anyone at the Security office?”

  “No.”

  “Did anyone see you there?”

  “No. Did someone say they saw me? That must be it! Someone saw me. That’s why you’re asking me all these questions.”

  Larry began to panic. She might stop talking.

  “You’re doing really great, Pepper. Just one or two more questions, and we’re done. How long were you there?”

  She answered quickly, “A few minutes.”

  “Did you take a gun?”

  “Yes.”

  There it is.

  In the bright reflection of the foam, Pepper’s face grew pale.

  “What did you do next?”

  Pepper took a breath and then another.

  Gerald looked around Pepper and said, “Inspector, Pepper looks really sick.”

  “Are you comfortable? Do you want to move somewhere? We can talk in the car.”

  She stared ahead.

  “Pepper, did you get a call from Mr. O’Hara?” Larry asked.

  “Yes. I forgot to tell you that. I sent the call to Cornelius.”

  “What did O’Hara say?”

  “He asked if Cornelius was in the lobby.”

  “And you told him Cornelius was in his apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you went to the Security office and took the gun. You were angry. What happened next?”

  “Gerald will hate me.” She averted her eyes and stared at the foam.

  “He will love you more if you tell the truth. Remember what your aunt said.”

  “I loved Cornelius.”

  “Which is why you did...what...” Gerald said, and t
hen he was silent.

  “You took the gun and went to his room. You meant to confront him about his affair with Maureen. You didn’t mean to do anything else. Is that right?” Larry asked.

  A seagull swooped down. Pepper leaned back sharply and flailed at the bird as if she could strike it dead. A silver bangle slid down to her elbow, and she gave in. “Yes, Inspector. You understand. Cornelius understood, but that night I was...”

  A barnacle pulled on her dress.

  “You were terribly upset, and you wanted to tell Cornelius that you loved him.”

  “Yes. That’s all I wanted to do.”

  Her breaths gradually slowed.

  Her face reflected the rose-gold glow of the bridge.

  Larry paused before asking, “How did the gun go off?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened next.”

  There it is.

  She had confessed.

  Larry leaned slightly forward.

  The back pain was gone.

  Sirens pierced the night.

  Larry raised his voice, rushing to ask one final question. “What time did you get back to the front desk?”

  “I don’t remember. Pablo was there, but Gerald was gone.” She looked at Gerald. “Why didn’t you take me away?”

  He started to say something, and Larry said, “After you paged Cornelius for Gerald, you paged Cornelius a second time. He didn’t answer. You needed an answer. So, you got the gun and went to his apartment. Did you let yourself in or ring the doorbell?”

  “I rang the doorbell.”

  “And the first time you saw O’Hara that night was when he came to the Greenwich and spoke to us. Do I have that right?”

  “Yes. Am I in trouble?”

  Larry reached into his jacket and felt for the voice recorder. He hoped that their voices had been audible over the waves, birds, and sirens.

  “Inspector, I want to do everything possible to help Pepper.”

  “Yes, of course.” Larry walked toward the sweeping lights. After a brief conversation with the officers, he walked to his car and tossed the soiled jacket from the front seat to the back seat. A somber and pale-looking Gerald joined him on the front seat.

  Their long journey had ended with a handcuffed girl sitting in the back of a squad car beneath a landmark.

  Epilogue

  Tuesday, July 16

  “I called Mark and Joan this morning. Your shirt is downstairs.” Lauren removed her house dress in front of Larry, put on a spruce-blue dress, adjusted new frames, and draped a brand new flowered scarf over her shoulders, which blew back in Larry’s face as she danced down the stairs. A hanger holding his starched, white shirt hung on the kitchen closet doorknob. She checked the corned beef roasting in the oven.

  The setting sun brightened the steamed-up windows and gave the kitchen walls a golden glow. The neighborhood crow was roosting elsewhere. A new, unopened Jack Daniels bottle was sitting on the counter. Larry inhaled the aroma of mustard and brown sugar, and Lauren gave the kitchen a once-over before handing him his shirt.

  “What did she say when you called?” he asked.

  “She was thrilled. I think she’s nervous. Be good, and don’t go on and on at the table. Have you ordered the hearing aid, yet?”

  “No time. I hear they don’t work very well.”

  “They will for you, dear.”

  Lauren kissed Larry on the lips.

  He put his fingertips on her eyeglasses. “I like these. Are they new?” He hugged her and felt her stomach against his. “Have you gained weight?”

  “No.”

  Larry put on the white shirt, and Lauren knotted a new, blue silk tie.

  “When did you buy this?”

  “Never mind.” She patted his chest. “That looks nice.”

  He kissed her.

  Joan complimented Lauren on her crab hors d’oeuvres and cheese puffs and offered to make margaritas. A few minutes later, Larry watched her crescent lips rise as he licked the salt on the rim.

  Before Lauren served dinner, the phone rang. Larry sprang to his feet, saluted the framed picture of the pope, and noticed a never-seen-before, medium gray, suit jacket with white pin stripes. It hung on the coat rack. He checked the tag on the inside label. Half-price.

  “Yes. How are you Gerald?” During the conversation, he kept his eyes focused on Mark, who was looking down at his stomach. Larry knew another diet was in the making.

  Larry hung up and walked back into living room. “That was Gerald Smith.”

  “Who’s he, Dad?”

  “Very nice young man. He worked at the Greenwich and got mixed up with all this. Anyway, he told me he accepted a new job. The Topaz Lake Lodge wants him to rent boats and fishing equipment and manage the fishing contests. He told me that Cornelius recommended him for the job before he died.”

  “How did the case turn out?”

  “Well, it’s a long story.” With a glint in his eye, Larry sat down in his green chair opposite Mark and began.

  “Pepper Chase, one of the front desk clerks, killed Cornelius. The gun she used was one of two nine-millimeter guns stolen from the Greenwich Security office. She took one, and Pablo Morales took the other. Two guns, the Pepper gun and the Morales gun, confused the hell out of me.

  “James O’Hara wanted Cornelius dead and asked Morales to do the deed. O’Hara thought that Morales bought a gun with the $500 he gave Morales. O’Hara must have carefully extracted five one-hundred-dollar bills from one of the bundles of $10,000, but he didn’t know that the gun Morales gave him was the one Morales had stolen from the Security office.

  “Morales used the $500 to buy a gun from a drug dealer, but he needed money and probably kept the gun at home. He planned to pawn it, which he did the day after the murder. He went to the Security office and stole the nine-millimeter gun. Morales had a conscience, and I think he was the one who called Cornelius and warned him that his life was in danger. He decided not to kill Cornelius and gave O’Hara the stolen gun on the night of the murder. More?”

  “Yes. This sounds exciting.”

  Larry polished off his margarita.

  “Murder is never exciting. Gerald Smith found Cornelius dead. Gerald picked up the gun that O’Hara got from Morales. The gun had fallen out of O’Hara’s pocket onto the floor in the hallway. Gerald picked it up and rubbed it in O’Hara’s face. Then he must have dropped it and rushed out of the building. O’Hara ran into Cornelius’ apartment and found him dead. At that point, O’Hara didn’t know who killed Cornelius. It was looking bad for him. He had solicited a murder, but the gun he held in a handkerchief had Smith’s fingerprints on it. He placed the gun next to Cornelius’ body. That was the Morales gun. He took the gun that was there, the Pepper gun, which she had used to kill Cornelius.

  “O’Hara wanted people to believe that Smith had killed Cornelius. He gave the Pepper gun to Maureen Daley for safekeeping. Maureen turned it over to me, and Pepper confessed.”

  “Why did Pepper kill Cornelius?”

  “She was in love with him and thought he was having an affair with Maureen Daley. Pepper killed him in a fit of jealousy.”

  “Why did O’Hara want to kill Cornelius?’

  “Ah, that was the question that had me stumped for a long time. It’s the most important aspect of the case...and the most damning. O’Hara got Maureen pregnant. O’Hara is married. Cornelius’ sister had adopted several children, which Maureen knew about, so Maureen went to Cornelius for help finding an adoption agency. They went to the same agency that adopted O’Hara to his parents. What a coincidence!

  “Maureen told O’Hara what they had done. He was scared that Cornelius might tell his brother, and he threatened to fire Cornelius. Whether he would have told Father Ralph or not, or what he would have said we’ll never know.”

  Mark raised his eyebrows with a look of surprise.

  “I know. It sounds crazy and irrational, but O’Hara felt threatened by the loss of two of the most
important things in his life: his fortune and his marriage. O’Hara had himself convinced that Clare would have demanded a divorce if she found out he was the father of another woman’s baby. Whether she would have, we’ll never know.

  “When you think about it, O’Hara had a lot to lose. In the end, O’Hara didn’t need to do anything. Pepper took care of his problem.

  “O’Hara was arrested for soliciting a murder, first with Gerald Smith and then with Pablo Morales.

  “Now all the secrets have been revealed. As for Pepper Chase, it will be up to the DA to determine the charge and up to a jury to determine guilt.”

  “Cornelius didn’t deserve to die,” Lauren said. She and Joan sat next to each other on the soft, green sofa.

  “You must be glad it’s over, Dad.”

  “It’s all in a day’s work. As Mom would say, it wouldn’t be called ‘work’ if it was easy. Work can be compared to the making of a fine sword. A blade, pounded again and again at the foundry, involves effort, but it cuts clean.

  “This is one murder I’ll never forget.”

  The foursome sat down for dinner.

  Before apple pie was served, Mark said, “Mom, Dad, I have some good news. Joan is pregnant, and we’ve decided to get married.”

  Larry saw the look of surprise on Lauren’s face.

  “Mark, Joan, I’m so happy for you,” Lauren roared.

  “Did I hear right? You’re getting married?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  Larry started clapping and in the middle of their smiles, he said. “I’d like to propose a toast. Raise your glasses, please. To Joan, may she make Mark a wonderful, loving wife, and to Mark, may he make Joan a wonderful, obedient husband.” Everyone laughed. “Best news I’ve heard all year. Would you like Father Ralph to officiate, or have you decided on someone else?”

  “We haven’t reached a decision about that. I don’t know how he would feel about her pregnancy.”

  “Yes, yes,” Joan said. “It’s a wonderful idea. Your father is right. Father Ralph is the perfect priest to marry us.” She leaned over and kissed Mark. For the first time in weeks, the house smelled good.

  After the joy had subsided, an unseen force moved Larry to say, “Let’s not give in to indifference and become smug. The Greenwich will never be the same. We lost two wonderful human beings. Cornelius MacKenzie and Pablo Morales. Pablo was a troubled soul and needed help. We didn’t give it.”