“I had to get into the old records at the hospital to get a glance at the birth certificate. They don’t even add the older ones to computers. But I did manage to bluff my way in, and it said 9:32 a.m.”
“Let’s take a look.” Lowell punched in the information for Tracy and then the combined chart of her and Rose. “See, Melinda, this is what I’m talking about. Neither of these two individual charts shows a vengeful nature, although Tracy has a Sun – Uranus conjunct, which could make her explosive and edgy. And Rose has the Moon in square to Uranus, so she also has a nervous and erratic side. It’s probably what Freddie found appealing in both. But neither has a particularly bitter or callous nature.
“But in the composite chart it’s another story. The Sun conjuncts Pluto, which can be a very powerful and even ruthless aspect. Interestingly enough it’s found in Freddie’s natal chart as well. But then, we are looking at the chart of two wives who, until only a few moments ago, we believed hated each other. This is not the composite chart of best friends, that’s for sure. The composite chart certainly shows that to be true. No matter what else they may be involved in, these two do not like each other. So we must find out if there is something behind the animosity.”
Mort’s head bobbed up and down. “Won’t you also have to do the composites for Marty Winebeck and the other eight musicians?”
“I suppose.” Lowell groaned. “But the thought of sifting through the combination of charts nine people present is a daunting task. It could be any number of combinations before I hit upon one that rings true. The dynamics of a couple or a group are that different than that of the individual.”
Lowell smiled. “I often wondered what Bonnie’s life would have been like if she hadn’t met Clyde.”
“So you’ll have to sift through all of the combinations?”
“Unless I get lucky.” He sighed and turned to the computer. “Might as well get to work. Mort, see what you can do about finding the birth information for the other suspects.”
“I’m on it.” He rushed out of the office.
Melinda walked to the window. “This seems like a particularly frustrating case for you.”
“This is a very Neptunian situation all around.”
“Why Neptune?”
“As you know, Neptune is the most confusing and misdirecting of all the planets. It rules alcohol, drugs, music, and anything that is an illusion. It is most prominent in the arts. There was nothing real in any of this. Sixty-year-old musicians that look and act like they’re twenty. Ex-wives and widows with more hate than love. And friends who perhaps weren’t friends at all. The glimmer of stardom surrounded by Neptune’s fog.”
He tugged on his ponytail. “Have you thought about what we discussed?”
“I have. But I’m not sure I’m ready to go out on my own.”
“If you ever decide to, you know you have my full support.”
“Thanks, dad.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and left.
The rest of the day was filled with electronic problems of all sorts. The computers ran slowly and they had to reboot the system twice.
At four he had Andy drive him back to the Village.
***
Rose was wearing a beige pantsuit when she answered the door. “Mr. Lowell, how nice to see you again so soon. Please, come in.”
He entered and sat on the couch. “I won’t be long. There are just a few more questions.”
“Of course. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“And these questions couldn’t be answered on the phone?”
“I thought it prudent to discuss it in person. It has come to my attention that you and Tracy have put together a company to sell Freddie’s belongings over the Internet.”
She crossed her legs. “That’s true. And I’ll bet you’re wondering why two women who hate each other would go into business together.” He nodded. “Don’t think for a moment that this new business venture changes how we feel about each other. We just have a common interest and decided to pool our resources briefly.”
“I thought money wasn’t an issue for you?”
“I wouldn’t contest the will, but what’s wrong with selling some of Freddie’s crap and making a few bucks? If we tried to compete it would be a mess. This way we can unload a lot of stuff and make Freddie’s fans happy as well. There’s nothing nefarious about it. Just a temporary truce.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Sarah had her coat on and was about to leave for the day when the front door opened. It was the first time she had actually met Vivian and was quite taken by her charisma. It’s one thing to see someone up on the screen, but to be in the presence of a real star, someone who deserved that title, well, that was something else.
“How do you do?” Vivian extended her hand.
Sarah put hers out automatically.
“You must be Sarah? I’m Vivian. Is David, I mean Mr. Lowell, available?”
Sarah had never been speechless in her life. If anything she tended to be just the opposite. But try as she might not a single word came to her mind.
“I…uh…I,” she giggled uncontrollably. “Oh,” finally catching herself, “please forgive me, Ms. Younger.”
“Vivian, please.”
“Vivian, oh my, sorry. Let me tell him you’re here.”
Vivian laughed good-naturedly. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. David has said such nice things about you.”
“He has?”
“Oh, yes. The way he tells it he couldn’t run this office without you.”
“He couldn’t? Well, I do keep thing in order for him. You know, he’s a really smart guy, but he can be so disorganized.”
“Genius often is,” replied Vivian. “If I told you about some of the biggest stars and directors in Hollywood you’d be in hysterics. Some of them literally couldn’t shop in a supermarket. God help them if something actually went wrong anywhere but on a movie set.”
She spied Sarah’s new shoes. “Those are fantastic.”
Sarah beamed. “Do you like them?”
“Like them? My god they’re absolutely stunning. Where did you get them?”
“On Eighth Street and Mercer. I’ll show you, if you’d like?”
“I’d love that. How about tomorrow?”
Sarah just nodded, afraid she would start giggling again.
“How about noon? We can have lunch.”
Sarah nodded again. “Great,” she managed to spit out. “Let me tell him you’re here.”
Lowell rose as Vivian entered. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
“As the old saying goes, I was in the neighborhood. Are you busy?”
“Always.”
“Too busy for a quick dinner with me?”
“Don’t you want to take a sight-seeing tour bus around the city?”
She smiled. “I’ve had my fill of being a tourist. A nice quiet dinner would suit me just fine.”
Lowell called Andy who was waiting when they came out of the building.
“Where shall we eat?” asked Vivian.
“Any place you choose. What are you in the mood for?”
“How about Indian? They usually have a large vegetarian selection.”
“Fine. We’ll go to East 6th Street, the Indian restaurant capital of New York. There are about a dozen to choose from.”
“God, when I leave New York I’d like to take the restaurants with me. I’m going to miss the variety when I get back to LA.”
“One does get spoiled. There are thousands of restaurants in this city of every conceivable style. Whatever you can think of that you’d like to try, there’s some place that makes it. Eating out is the main recreational activity.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute,” replied the tourist.
Dinner was subdued. Vivian seemed a bit withdrawn, but was still good company.
“David, do you mind just dropping me at the hotel? I’m tired and wouldn’t be much fun. We could get tog
ether tomorrow if you’re free?”
“Of course.”
Lowell wasn’t used to dating and even he, the clear-thinking astrologer, could not see where this relationship was going.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Fat Jimmy was drinking peppermint tea and eating a Granny Smith apple. He’d read somewhere that certain kinds of apples helped control acid reflux and he was trying different varieties. So far none of them had done much.
“Now, what did I tell you? Didn’t I say I was going to take care of this guy? Didn’t I?”
His nephew nodded.
“So you blew it a second time. Now do you think we’re in the clear?” He pushed the table away and slowly stood up. “Call up the guys and have them meet us at the warehouse in Brooklyn.”
An hour later they were outside a seedy rundown warehouse where they met up with two other men. It was situated near the docks on a dead end street in an undesirable area of Brooklyn. But that would change as the reconstruction of this borough continued. And Jimmy was counting on being bought out for a nice fat profit when the time came. In the meantime he used the building for a variety of purposes.
“Jeez, I haven’t been out here in a while. It’s really a shithole, isn’t it?”
He went to the front door carrying a large family size bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. He fiddled with the keys until the right one fell in his hand and he twisted it into the lock. The door swung open and he started to enter when he realized that the door was too narrow for him.
“Open the freight door.”
“Uh, I don’t have the key with me,” replied his nephew.
Fat Jimmy just looked at him and shook his head. He turned back to the doorway in front of him. By twisting sideways and inching his way in he was able to squeeze by.
There was a large table with several chairs around it. They all sat.
He looked around the table at his “gang” and shook his head again. It was enough to see the giant, at six five, supposed to be the muscle, with his shoulder in a sling, a shiner under his left eye, and bruises on his face and arms.
“Now listen, you morons,” he started on his first chicken leg, “I want that guy and I want him now. This is the last time I want to hear that he escaped or beat you all up. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Jimmy,” said several of them.
“All right then, here’s the plan. And you better not screw it up.”
***
Andy pulled the limo around to the side entrance of the restaurant. He got out to stretch his legs when a short man approached him.
“Got a light?” asked the man.
“Yeah, sure.” Andy got a lighter from his pocket. Although he had quit smoking almost five years earlier, he still carried a Bic wherever he went. Some habits die hard. He cupped both hands around the flame so the man could get a good light.
A very large man came up behind him and held a gun to the side of his head. “Just be cool and nobody gets hurt.” The shorter man tied Andy’s hands behind his back as a green car pulled up. The gunman waved toward the car. “Get in.” Andy got in the back and it pulled away.
The short man got in the limo driver’s seat and the large man got in the back.
Lowell and Vivian exited the restaurant. “There’s Andy.” Lowell pointed to the limo.
They were about to get in when Skinny Jimmy came up behind them holding his pistol. “Get in.”
“What, again?” asked Lowell. “Isn’t this redundant?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you getting tired of this?”
“Just get in and shut up.”
Lowell opened the door and saw the big man. “Friend of yours?”
Lowell and Vivian entered and sat. The large man had his right arm in a sling and a gun in his left hand. Lowell recognized him from his encounter in Soho.
Jimmy kept his gun aimed at Lowell. “No funny business this time.”
Lowell reached for the phone. “Let me give my driver instructions.”
“That ain’t your driver. Put the phone down and sit back.”
Lowell was worried. He knew Andy wouldn’t voluntarily give up the car. “Where’s my driver?”
“Never mind. I’d worry more about myself if I were you. Put your hands out.”
Lowell put his hands in front of him and Jimmy clasped handcuffs on his wrists while the large man kept his gun aimed directly at Vivian.
They drove downtown on the FDR and crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Lowell tried to keep track of where they were, but he wasn’t that familiar with the borough and was soon lost.
They went deeper into Brooklyn, past downtown and up Smith Street. They passed dozens of upscale restaurants and small bodegas. After a while the neighborhood changed, became less residential. They entered a quiet, dimly lit area. The window was down and Lowell could smell the water.
The limo finally pulled up to the warehouse. It was dark, except for a single naked light bulb hanging outside the building. The moon was hidden behind some clouds and the air was thick and still.
The back door opened and the little man Lowell had also encountered in Soho was there holding a gun.
“Get in there.” Jimmy pointed to the warehouse door.
Lowell and Vivian entered followed closely by Jimmy and his two henchmen. They walked into the main room. Fat Jimmy was sitting at the table, a half-eaten chicken leg in his hand.
“See Uncle Jimmy, I got ’em.”
He finished the leg in one bite and put the bone down. He wiped his hands on a paper napkin, stood up and walked over to them. “You got ’em? After three tries you got ’em.”
“Fat Jimmy DeAngelo,” said Lowell. “My god, are you involved in this thing?”
“Don’t call me that!” He looked closely at Lowell. “I remember you from the floor of the Merc. You’re that trader guy, works with the stars.”
“Good memory.”
“How’d it work out?”
“I bought calls in oil when the futures were trading around thirty-two and kept rolling them over until the top. Then I shorted.”
“Wow, must have made a killing. How’d you do it?”
“It was just as Pluto, ruler of oil, entered Sagittarius, the most expansive of signs, and I knew we were in for a sky-rocket ride up.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but good for you. I don’t care how you do it, as long as you make money. So now, what the hell are you doing in my business?”
“I’m now a private detective. And I’m working on Freddie Finger’s murder.”
Jimmy was breathing heavily. He turned to his nephew. “This is the guy you couldn’t take care of? This little shrimp?”
“Where did you get these guys?” asked Lowell.
“They’re from the old neighborhood.”
“But, Uncle Jimmy, you should’a seen him. He was throwing people around like they were dolls. Look what he did to Murray and Leo.” He pointed to the large man, his arm still in a sling.
“Murray and Leo?” asked Lowell.
Fat Jimmy shrugged. “I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood.”
“Hey, I just wasn’t ready for him, that’s all,” said Murray. “Wait till I get my arm back, then I’ll show you. Right, Skinny Jimmy?”
Fat Jimmy saw the smile creeping across Lowell’s face. “He’s my nephew.”
“Fat Jimmy and Skinny Jimmy,” said Lowell. “It must have made it easier to fill out seating cards at weddings.”
“Yeah, now I remember, you’re into that Judo crap. I saw you do a demonstration outside the cotton pit one year. And you got a big mouth, I remember that, too.”
“It’s aikido, and I remember that day. In fact, I offered to take you on, but you refused.”
“I didn’t have time to waste wrestling. I was there to make money. While you were throwing people around the room I caught a seventy cent move in silver.”
“It’s all about the money, isn’t it?”
“Well,
isn’t it?”
“Is that why you killed those rockers?” Lowell was fishing.
Fat Jimmy belched loudly. “Damn, excuse me. It’s that acid reflux crap. He took a sip of soda and turned to Lowell. “I didn’t kill anyone.” Then he looked at his nephew. “Although I might start.”
“Jimmy thinks he’s the godfather,” Lowell said to Vivian. “I used to watch him waddle around the floor of the exchange, clerks and traders kissing his ass.”
“If you’re trying to piss me off, you’re succeeding,” said the fat man.
“If you didn’t kill them then why are we here?” asked Vivian.
“Because your boyfriend was getting in the way of my business.”
“What business is that,” Lowell asked.
“Never you mind.”
“Jimmy, you’re not stupid.”
“Hell no, I got a BA from Iona College. I even got credits toward an MBA.”
“I’m impressed. Why didn’t you complete the degree?”
“I made more money trading commodities the first year I was on the floor than the whole college makes. You don’t need a degree to make money.”
“Well, you’re acting stupid now. Who put you on to me?”
“I don’t know. I got a phone call one night telling me that if I wanted my, uh, business to flourish I better get you out of the way. The next day I get a snapshot of you in the mail along with your office address.”
“So you sent the boys to take care of me. How thoughtful.”
“They were supposed to scare you off the first time. Then they were supposed to grab you and bring you back here so I could talk to you, that’s all.”
“Ever hear of a phone?”
“I wanted to, you know, make it a little more forceful than just a chat.”
“And you don’t know who called you or sent the picture?”
“No, but if I knew it was gonna be such a fucking problem I never would have started in the first place. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you just let us go?” asked Vivian.
Jimmy just snorted, then turned to Murray. “You think you can put them in the locker without getting beat up?”
“I think so, Mister Jimmy.”
“Well, do it. I need some time to think.”
Death in the 12th House Page 15
