A Perfect Manhattan Murder

by Tracy Kiely

  “Peggy. Harper is not mad at you, and Dan is definitely not mad at you. The only person who is getting mad at you is me.”

  “You? Why? What did I do to you?” she asked.

  “You keep interrupting me. Now please shut up for two minutes. I need to tell you something,” I said.

  “Ok. Ok,” Peggy huffed. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

  I took a deep breath and resisted the urge to debate that dubious point. “I have some bad news. Apparently, Dan stayed at his apartment last night and never came home. Harper went over there this morning and found him—”

  With an audible gasp, Peggy interrupted again. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Did she find him in bed with another woman? I always thought Dan was an ass, but I never thought he’d cheat on her. God, what a pig. I’m so glad I didn’t apologize to him.”

  “Uh, not exactly, Peg,” I said. “Harper found him in bed, all right. But he wasn’t with another woman.”

  “He wasn’t with another man, was he?” Peggy asked, aghast.

  “Peg! Will you let me finish? He wasn’t with anyone. He was dead.”

  Peggy was silent. Then she said, “I swear to God, Nic, if this is your idea of a joke …”

  I closed my eyes. “Yeah, Peg,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. “It’s all a big gag. Pretty funny, huh?” Nigel returned and placed a cup of hot coffee in my free hand. I smiled at him and took a grateful sip.

  “Shit, Nic. Really?” said Peggy. “Dan is dead? Oh dear God. Poor Harper! What … what happened?”

  “I don’t know really. At first Harper thought that he’d had a heart attack, but I’m not so sure that’s the case.”

  “Meaning what exactly?” Peggy asked slowly.

  “Meaning I don’t think Dan died of natural causes,” I answered.

  There was a long pause before Peggy said anything. “And what do you think he died from?” she finally asked.

  “That I don’t know,” I admitted. “The police suspect he was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned! You’re serious, aren’t you? But why would someone poison Dan? I mean, I get that the man is … well, was an ass, but so are lots of people!”

  “And lots of people get murdered,” I pointed out.

  Peggy fell quite again. After a moment, she said, “How’s Harper doing?”

  “She’s as good as can be expected,” I said. “She’s lying down now.”

  “Oh. Is Devin with her?”

  “Probably,” I said. “But I didn’t stay long enough to tuck them in.”

  “Huh?” Peggy said. “I meant, is Devin there to help with Gracie? What the hell did you mean?”

  “Just that Devin is apparently infatuated with Harper—or as he calls her, Harpo—and spent last night with her.”

  Peggy’s reaction to this was inarticulate sputtering.

  “Apparently Gracie is teething,” I added, as if that clarified the situation.

  The sputtering stopped. “Are you messing with me now?” Peggy demanded.

  “Sadly, I am not,” I admitted.

  “Teething? Gracie is teething?” Peggy repeated. “What does that even mean? Is that some kind of new slang?”

  “I don’t think so. But it’s the reason Devin gave for spending the night. The thing is, I’m not even sure I believe he did spend the night. It’s clear he has feelings for Harper, but I don’t know if he’s saying he spent the night to give Harper an alibi or because he really spent the night.”

  “I seriously think my brain is going to explode. I need a drink. Where are you?”

  “Nigel and I were about to go get a drink at that place on Fifth that serves the really good Bloodys,” I answered.

  “Martin’s?”

  “That’s the one,” I said.

  “Well, why don’t you come here first and then we can all head over together. Evan is already here. I just have to go over a few notes with the cast. Oh!” she paused as if struck by a thought. “Do you think I should tell them? About Dan, I mean?”

  I took a sip of my coffee and considered her question. “Actually, do you mind holding off on telling them until I get there? I’m curious to see how they react.”

  “Jesus, Nic. You don’t really think one of them could have had anything to do with it, do you?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Peg.” Silence answered. “Peg? You still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.” She paused a moment. “He’s really dead?” she asked.

  “He’s really dead,” I said.

  “Well, shit.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up,” I agreed.

  twenty

  Twenty minutes later, we were still vainly searching for a taxi. It wasn’t that there weren’t any available; there were. Plenty, in fact. It was just that none seemed to be in the mood to transport a large dog, or as one particularly loquacious cabbie put it “some half-bred transient Yeti.” Finally, Nigel left Skippy and me on a nearby bench while he went in search of a driver amenable to bribery. Ten minutes later, I was thumbing through some emails on my phone when I heard Nigel call my name. I looked up expecting to see a familiar pair of blue eyes. What I saw, however, while ocular in nature, was neither blue nor a pair. Instead, a single brown orb gazed placidly down at me. I reached out to gently pat the smooth fur of the horse’s muzzle before angling my head until I could see Nigel. He grinned at me from the confines of a bright red gig.

  “We’re taking a horse drawn carriage?” I asked rather unnecessarily.

  Nigel alighted with an agile jump and kissed the back of my hand with exaggerated flourish. “We are indeed, my fair lady,” he said. Gesturing to the bored young man seated on the padded bench, he added, “This gallant young squire, who also answers to the name of Toby, has agreed to ferry us to our desired location in exchange for a sack of gold coin.”

  From his seat, Toby let out a sigh. “Look, buddy. I said I’d take you, but it’s fifty bucks. Cash or credit only.”

  Nigel pulled me up from my bench and helped me into the carriage. Skippy jumped up behind me and settled into the seat next to Nigel. Nigel slung his arm around him. “You know,” I said, as I watched, “when I thought about taking a horse drawn carriage with you through New York, this isn’t exactly what I envisioned.”

  “I know what you mean,” Nigel agreed. “It’s not how I imagined it either.”

  I paused a moment and then asked, “It’s because you saw yourself wearing a top hat, isn’t it?”

  Nigel looked at me in surprise. “Why? You didn’t?”

  twenty-one

  We arrived in due time at the theater. It took several minutes longer than necessary to alight from the carriage as we were stopped by several tourists who thought Skippy was one of the horses from Equus. Nigel saw no reason to dissuade them of this and offered to pose for pictures.

  By the time we made our way into the theater, Peggy was just finishing her post-play review with the cast. Mark was sitting on a bench next to Brooke, who was taking notes in a thick leather-bound journal. Jeremy stood off to one side, leaning against a doorjamb, surreptitiously checking his phone. In spite of his stage makeup, his complexion was haggard. A woman I didn’t recognize stood next to him. Based on her blond wig and costume, I guessed that she was Nina’s understudy, Molly.

  Hearing our entrance, Peggy looked back and waved us over. As we approached, her gaze dropped to Skippy; seconds later, her jaw followed suit. “Dear God, is that a dog?” she asked.

  Nigel put his fingers over his lips. “Yes,” he said in a hushed voice, “but we haven’t told him yet. We’re waiting until he’s older.”

  Peggy rolled her eyes as she scratched Skippy’s ears. “Well, speaking of telling people unpleasant truths, I haven’t told the cast about Dan yet,” she said in a low voice. “Do you think I should do it now?”

/>   “Might as well,” I said. “The press is bound to find out sooner rather than later.”

  Peggy nodded at me and then raised her voice to the cast. “One last thing, everyone,” she said. “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news to share.” All eyes focused on Peggy. I tried to gauge everyone’s expression as Peggy made the announcement. “Dan Trados died last night.”

  Brooke let out a little gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Her journal slipped off her lap and fell to the floor. Mark immediately leaned over and picked it up. He handed it back to her and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Jeremy blinked several times but said nothing. Nina’s understudy, Molly, glanced around at the others before saying, “He’s that theater critic with Vanity Fair, right?” She was made up to look like a woman in her late fifties, but based on her voice and movements, I guessed she was far younger.

  Peggy nodded. “Yes, Molly. That’s him.”

  Molly’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit. What happened?”

  Peggy glanced at me before answering. “It’s unclear,” she said. “The police haven’t said—”

  “The police!” Brooke cried out, the journal once again sliding out of her hands and landing on the floor with a thud. This time, Mark did not retrieve it. “Why are the police involved?” she asked.

  “Well,” began Peggy, “it seems that … well, apparently …” She stopped and looked helplessly at me.

  “The police haven’t determined how Mr. Trados died yet,” I said, taking a step forward.

  Mark looked over at me, his gaze wary. “But the police are involved,” he said slowly. “Meaning that …” He paused and glanced at Brooke. Brooke’s posture was rigid; her gaze riveted to the stage floor.

  “Meaning that the police suspect foul play,” I finished.

  Molly suddenly let out a low whistle. “Holy shit,” she said. “Does Nina know?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”

  Molly’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. “I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked.

  “Nic Martini,” I answered. “I went to school with Peggy and Harper Trados. Why did you ask about Nina?”

  Molly paused and seemed to consider her answer. “Oh, no reason, really. I mean, it’s just that she was pretty angry with him last night. About that review he wrote … and everything.” She stopped and blinked. “I mean, I would have been, too … I didn’t mean to imply … I just wondered if …” Molly paused again and took a deep breath. “You know what? I’m just going to stop talking now.”

  Next to her, Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You think?” he muttered. Molly’s cheeks flushed crimson and she stared at her feet.

  “I don’t know what Nina knows,” Peggy said. “Obviously, she didn’t say anything to me about it when she called me this morning.” Turning to me, Peggy asked, “Did you want to say anything else?”

  I shook my head. “No. I imagine the police will get in touch with everyone themselves.”

  Brooke gave a startled shudder. “Why would the police want to talk to any of us?” she asked. “What could we possibly have to do with Dan’s death? Are you saying that we are somehow suspects?”

  I tried to smile reassuringly, but based on the panic in Brooke’s wide eyes, it wasn’t working. “I’m not saying any such thing,” I said. “I just happen to know the detective in charge of the case. Actually, she’s my old partner. And Detective Garcia is very thorough. I expect she’ll want to talk with everyone who had any kind of interaction with Dan last night.”

  Jeremy stared at me with an expression of mild horror. “Wait. You’re a detective?” he sputtered.

  “Ex-detective,” I clarified.

  Based on the way Jeremy suddenly went pale and abruptly sat down in a nearby chair, the distinction did not seem to mollify him.

  twenty-two

  “So do you really think Dan was having an affair?” Peggy asked me as she took a sip of her Bloody Mary sometime later. We were seated at an outdoor patio table at Martin’s. Skippy lay under the table. Sprawled on his back with his paws in the air, he was softly snoring.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I did find two empty wineglasses at his apartment, one of which had lipstick on it. It can’t have been from Harper. She’s never even been to his apartment.”

  Peggy shook her head. “That bastard.”

  “Poor Harper,” said Evan as he took a sip from his own drink. “None of us can pretend that we liked Dan, but this isn’t how I wanted to see him exit Harper’s life.”

  “I disagree,” Peggy said firmly. “I actually think it’s better off this way.”

  Evan paused mid-sip to stare at his wife in horror. “It’s better off what way? With Dan dead? Are you actually saying it’s better that he’s dead?”

  “Well, not for Dan, of course,” Peggy said. “I imagine he’d prefer things ended differently. I was thinking more of Harper.”

  Evan continued to gape at his wife. “How on earth is Dan dying better for Harper?” he asked.

  “Well, for one thing,” said Peggy, “she doesn’t have to deal with a messy divorce now.”

  Evan set his drink down with a thud. “Oh, that’s right. Instead, she gets to plan a funeral,” he said his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What was I thinking? That’s a much better option.”

  Peggy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t think I do,” Evan said. “Are you saying that if I was cheating on you, you’d rather I turn up dead?”

  “Of course not,” Peggy said reassuringly. “If you were cheating on me, I wouldn’t hope for you to turn up dead.”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” Evan said, somewhat mollified. He picked up his drink again.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” said Peggy, holding up her hand. “A, you would never cheat on me but, B, if you did, I wouldn’t hope for you to turn up dead, because you would turn up dead. By me.”

  Evan shook his head. “This is the kind of stuff that should have come out during all those premarital classes we had to take with your church. Instead of focusing on who would be in charge of finances, maybe we should have discussed your views on manslaughter.”

  Peggy tilted her head and stared at Evan with a challenging smile. “Why? Are you saying you would have done things differently?”

  Evan took a sip of his drink. “I might have opted for a less generous life-insurance plan for myself,” he muttered.

  Peggy laughed and tapped him on his nose. “Oh, please. The mere fact that I’d kill you if you cheated on me is only proof of how much I love you.”

  Evan laughed as she blew him a kiss and took another sip of her drink.

  “Too bad you’re already married,” I said as our waitress reached our table with a fresh round of drinks. “That would have made a great addition to the traditional vows.”

  Nigel dug out an olive from his drink and gave a low whistle before tossing the garnish into the air. Seconds later, Skippy’s sleek brown head emerged from under the table. With an agile snap, he caught the treat and then sank back down out of sight.

  Peggy blinked at the display. “I feel like I just watched Nessy breach the surface of Loch Ness.”

  Evan took a sip from his drink. “What happens now?” he asked. “I mean, with the police?”

  I shrugged. “They’ll wait until they get the report from the coroner about how Dan died and go from there,” I said. “If it turns out that he was really murdered, then they’ll start looking at motives and begin to interview everyone.”

  “Do you think he was murdered?” Evan asked me.

  “My gut tells me he was,” I admitted. “Young, relatively healthy guys like Dan generally don’t just drop dead. I talked with the coroner, too. She’s an old friend and really good at her job. She suspects it was poison.”

  “So
maybe whoever Dan had that drink with might have poisoned him?” Peggy asked.

  I took a sip of my drink before answering. “Possibly.”

  Peggy let out a shaky breath. “Then the police will be looking for a woman.”

  I shook my head. “The police are going to look at everyone with a motive to kill Dan.”

  Peggy let out a grim laugh. “That’s going to be a long list. Dan wasn’t liked very much.”

  “Yes” I said. “Maybe it’s because of my former experience with law enforcement, but I was able to sniff that one out myself.”

  Peggy was quiet for a moment and then said, “Harper is going to be a suspect, isn’t she?”

  I gave a reluctant nod. “Unfortunately, the spouse is usually a suspect in a murder case. And the fact that Harper was unhappy and wanted a divorce isn’t going to help her case. And then there’s the little problem of Devin.”

  Peggy leaned forward on the table, her eyes wide with interest. “Yes, what is that all about? Do you really think they’re having an affair?”

  I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. It’s clear that Devin has a crush on her, but I don’t know how Harper feels. But in any case, Devin overheard me tell Harper that she was most likely going to be a suspect, and he immediately claimed that he spent last night helping her take care of Gracie and that Harper never left.”

  Peggy considered my answer. “Well, I for one hope they are having an affair. Devin is an absolute sweetheart and is amazing with Gracie. Plus, he’s gorgeous. He looks like he’s just stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.”

  Evan wagged a finger in her face. “Hold on a sec,” he said. “Leaving aside the ‘gorgeous’ comment—which, trust me, we will address later—how is it okay for Harper to have an affair but not Dan?”

  Peggy rolled her eyes. “Because, if Harper was having an affair it was because Dan drove her to it.”

  Evan closed his eyes in obvious frustration. “You know you’re being a complete and total hypocrite right now, don’t you?” he asked.