by Neil Plakcy
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said. “So many of our colleagues have taken off for the holidays. And I really want to get to know people better. What is it that you teach?”
I explained that I adjuncted in the English department, but that my primary job was at Friar Lake. “Have any ideas for continuing education programs in your discipline?” I asked.
“Gracious and I have been talking about homelessness,” Lili said. “Maybe you could put together a program on that.”
“I’m not sure it would be a big seller,” I said. “I think it’s one of those problems people want to avoid.” I held up my hand before Lili could say anything. “It’s great that you’re approaching it in the classroom, because you can educate people. But I think we’d need a sexier topic in order to draw in older learners.”
“I’d love to do something about Africa,” Gracious said. “Most Americans know almost nothing about the continent, and how diverse it is. Perhaps they long to go on a safari, but that’s about it.”
“We’ll have to talk,” I said. Across the room I saw Minna Breznick, and I was surprised, but then I remembered that she and her cardiologist husband lived in the same neighborhood. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I need to talk to.”
I walked over to her. “Steve Levitan,” I said. “I bring my golden in to Dr. Horz’s office.”
“Oh, yes, I recognize you,” she said, in that sharp, guttural Israeli accent. Her blonde hair had been puffed up like a balloon, and she wore six gold chains around her neck.
“I was there the other day and Dr. Horz had discovered some supplies stolen,” I said casually. “She ever figure out what happened?”
Minna looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. “A police detective came to my house on Monday to ask me questions. But I think it’s all resolved now.”
“Really?”
“You probably don’t know this, but Dr. Horz hired a kennel assistant who had been in prison for drug dealing. The rest of the staff didn’t know at first, and once we found out we had to talk to her and eventually she let him go.” She shook her head. “Dr. Horz is a sweet woman, but sometimes I think she’s too trusting. And now see what happened.”
I wanted to defend Felix. I really believed he had been trying to turn his life around. But it was a party, and I wasn’t going to accuse Minna of being small-minded when she might very well be right. However, I was still curious to know if she understood the uses of potassium and had any motive herself for the theft.
“What exactly was stolen?” I asked. “Not anything dangerous, I hope.”
“Very dangerous, in the wrong hands,” she said. “But then, any medical supplies can be used to hurt as well as to heal.”
She had a gleam in her eye that was unsettling, but I pressed on. “What do you mean?”
“All of the body must be in balance,” she said. “Not too much or too little of any vitamin or mineral. This potassium that was stolen, you inject it into someone and poof! Heart attack. I’m sure we all know people we would like to see go that way, huh?”
Then she laughed. “But of course, we are not criminals.”
I wanted to say, “Speak for yourself,” but I bit my tongue. It was a party, after all. Instead, I said, “I hope the new year brings good things for all of us.”
Lili was still talking to someone, so I wandered over to the food and grabbed a couple of her brownies. I thought back to what Jackie Conrad had said, about the ability to stick a vial of potassium into an IV. Who might have Yunior wanted to kill? A rival drug dealer who was hospitalized, for example? I pulled out my wallet and scribbled a reminder to tell Rick what I had learned.
When I looked up I saw Lili smiling at me, and I walked back to her. At midnight, we kissed to ring in the new year. I was so happy with the way my life had changed during the past year, and I made sure to tell Lili what a big part of that positive change had to do with her. Life was too fleeting not to say those things.
21 – Active Imagination
It was lovely to sleep in on New Year’s Day, without a big golden head breathing on me and demanding food, walk and attention. Lili and I lounged in bed together, then I made breakfast and brought it up to her on a tray.
“What a treat,” she said, sitting up.
“Happy New Year,” I said. We ate together and then while she sat back with my new iPad and played around, I drove over to Rick’s to pick up Rochester.
“I was right,” I said to Rick. “According to one of the science professors at Eastern, you can use potassium to kill someone, especially if they have an IV.”
“I never said you weren’t right about that,” Rick said. “But it looks to me like Felix Logato stole those vials from Dr. Horz’s office. Maybe he sold them to his buddy, maybe he did something else with them. But he’s dead now, so the case is closed.”
I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t blame Rick for wanting a simple solution to a simple crime.
“Don’t forget dinner at Tamsen’s tonight,” Rick said. “Justin’s looking forward to playing with Rascal and Rochester.”
I had forgotten, but Rick was so eager that I didn’t want to admit I had. “We’ll be there. Lili made rum balls, which have been steeping in our refrigerator. I’ve only been taking one at a time from each jar so she won’t notice.”
“Women always notice that kind of thing,” he said. “It’s in their genes.”
When I got home, Lili was in the kitchen with the jar of rum balls open, and I worried she was going to bust me. But when she turned to me, she had two in her hand, and passed one to me. “You think these are ready?” she asked.
I popped it in my mouth, and if anything, the flavor had improved since the first one I’d tasted. “I think they’re awesome.”
“My mother used to make these for parties,” she said. “I’d almost forgotten them. I had to look up a recipe online and then tweak it to make them taste like hers.”
“You are a woman of awesome talents,” I said. We kissed, and I tasted the rum and chocolate on her lips. Rochester tried to nose his way in, but I kneed him away. “No chocolate for you, puppy. We’ve already been that route before.”
A woman who had killed two Eastern College students had believed Rochester had dug up evidence against her. Before we knew she was the culprit, she had sent us a box of dog biscuits that were supposed to be flavored with carob, which is okay for dogs, but instead was heavily dosed with chocolate. I’d accidentally left the box within his reach, back before I knew how easy it was for him to get up to a kitchen counter. He’d eaten the whole box, and I had to rush him to Dr. Horz’s and have him dosed with activated charcoal. The woman was serving a life sentence in prison for her crimes, and I hoped she rotted there.
Later that morning, Dr. Horz called. “I know that you took an interest in helping Felix,” she said. “I spoke with his mother, and his funeral is tomorrow morning in North Philadelphia. I’d like to go and pay my respects, but I can’t say I’m thrilled about going to that neighborhood on my own. I was hoping you would go with me.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “I feel terrible about what happened to Felix and I’d like to express my condolences to his family.”
Her office was still closed, but she said she had to go in for an hour or so the next morning to catch up on paperwork. We arranged that I would pick her up there at ten and we’d drive into North Philly together.
After I hung up, Lili asked, “You’re not taking Rochester to the funeral, are you? Because even if he behaves, some people there might take it the wrong way.”
“No, I’ll leave him here. You don’t want to go, do you?”
She shook her head. “I was talking to Gracious at the party, and she told me about a great nail salon in New Hope. We’re going there tomorrow for mani-pedis. I need some girl time to recharge.”
I guessed my meetings with Rick counted as “guy time,” so I was fine with Lili’s plans. “That means you’re going to be on your own t
omorrow afternoon, boy,” I said to Rochester, who was pushing up against my leg. “You all right with that?”
In response, he sprawled on his back on the floor and waved his legs in the air. “Looks like you’ve got to give him a head start on belly rubs to tide him over,” Lili said.
I sat on the living room floor and rubbed Rochester’s tummy, and Lili lounged on the couch until we had to get ready for dinner at Tamsen’s.
It wasn’t far to where Tamsen and her son Justin lived, in a fifties-era split level a few blocks from where I’d grown up. “Tamsen’s business must be doing well,” I said, as we got out of the car. Lili had the jars of rum balls in a canvas bag and I had Rochester on his leash.
“What makes you say that?”
“Houses like this one go for half a mill these days,” I said. “There must be a lot of money in tchotchkes.” I knew from Rick that Tamsen helped corporate clients find and produce promotional products like towels, mugs, and mouse pads imprinted with company logos, but he’d never mentioned how successful she was.
Justin opened the door to welcome us in. He was eight, a tow-headed boy with energy to burn. Behind him stood his quieter cousin Nathaniel, brown hair and glasses. He was two years younger than Justin, and too slight to play on the Pop Warner football team that Justin played on and Rick coached. Both of them were excited to see Rochester. I let Rochester off his leash, and he romped with the boys.
We found Tamsen and Hannah in the kitchen, which looked like it had been recently remodeled, with sleek appliances and new-looking cabinets. The sisters were a year apart, and a few years younger than Rick and I were. Tamsen was as tall as Lili, with lustrous blonde hair and a coltish grace. I thought her energy and cheer were a good match for Rick. She could keep up with him, mentally and physically, and keep his spirits up as well.
That evening, she looked particularly lovely, in a long-sleeved bright blue silk blouse and black slacks. Her hair looked fresh from a salon, and she wore gold earrings with tiny stars hanging from them.
Hannah Palmer, like her son Nathaniel, was quieter. She was the Clerk of the Friends’ Meeting in town, and had a deeply spiritual side, as well as a commitment to the Quaker ideals she and her sister had been raised with. She was an inch or two shorter than her sister, and her hair was the same color, but pulled back into a knot. Hannah was dressed more casually, in a chocolate brown turtleneck sweater over skinny jeans and those low boots that always remind me of elves.
After we kissed hello, Lili put the bag of jars on the table and began handing them to Tamsen. “These look delicious!” Tamsen said.
Tamsen’s cell phone rang with the theme from The Lone Ranger. “Crap, I have to get that,” she said. “Can you take over, Han?” Her sister nodded as Tamsen grabbed the phone and walked out of the kitchen.
“I hope nothing’s wrong,” I said to Hannah.
“No, that’s just one of her clients,” Hannah said. “My sister is too professional sometimes. She takes calls all the time. She’s a super saleswoman and she has an amazing eye for detail. And if she were here, she’d ask if you want something to drink. There’s beer and wine in the fridge.”
I got myself a beer, noticing that either Rick had brought some microbrews to Tamsen’s, or that she was stocking her refrigerator for him. Interesting. I poured a glass of white wine for Lili. She took a plate of crudités that Hannah handed her and we walked out to the living room.
Hannah’s husband Eric was on the sofa. He was a nerdy-looking guy with dark hipster-style glasses, though at the moment he was laughing at Rick. My friend was on the floor with Justin, Nathaniel and the two dogs, all climbing on top of him. A strange lump swelled at the bottom of my throat. I’d never be a dad.
“Steve! You’ve got to help me,” Rick called, as Eric laughed. “I’m being attacked!”
I got down to the floor with him, and Rochester jumped up and put his front paws on my shoulders. Rick and I romped on the floor with the kids and the dogs for a few minutes, until Rascal had a sudden urge to lick his genitals. Rochester wanted to investigate what his friend was doing, and they began rolling around and growling at each other, a blur of gold, black, brown and white.
“They’re not going to hurt each other, are they?” Nathaniel asked.
“Nah, that’s the way they play,” Rick said.
“Don’t even think about growling and biting each other,” Hannah said from the kitchen door. “Who wants to help me put out the little hot dogs?”
Both boys hollered, “Me!” and jumped up.
As they ran to the kitchen, I turned to Rick. “You have a good day off?”
He shook his head. “Right after you left, I got called in. Another death at Crossing Manor. A man named Victor Fictura.”
“Mr. Fistula,” I said. “The pain in the ass. What happened?”
“Looks like he had a heart attack sometime in the night. The people at the Manor notified his son, who’s a pain in the ass, too. He insisted that his father’s heart was fine and demanded they call the police.”
Rascal was chewing on Rochester’s ear, and my big dog had rolled over on his back and was waving his legs in the air. Rick stretched his legs out and leaned back against the sofa. “Mr. Fictura junior said his father told him to call the cops if anything happened to him. He said they were out to get him at that place, that people were dying there right and left.”
“Which is true,” I said. “Four people that I met with Rochester have died since we started going there.”
“It’s a nursing home. A place where you go when you’re about to die.”
“When we were there last, I happened to see a form being prepared for the state that listed suspicious deaths. One name I didn’t recognize.” I began holding up fingers as I ticked them off. “Mrs. Tuttle, an elderly woman with dementia. Mr. Pappas, who had Crohn’s Disease and no close family. Mrs. Divaram, whose son lives in California and had parked here there to get her out of his wife’s hair. And now Mr. Fictura.”
“How did you happen to see that form?”
“We were walking out and the receptionist’s desk was empty. Rochester nosed around her computer and the screen saver popped off. I got a quick look before the administrator came back.”
“You’re beginning to sound like the eight-year-olds I coach,” Rick said. “An excuse for everything. Although most of your excuses involve the death dog.”
“Don’t keep calling him that,” I said. “And it’s not just me and Rochester. Mr. Fictura told his son something was going on. And Mrs. Divaram had nothing wrong with her. Her roommate, Mrs. Vinci, was suspicious. She said something wasn’t right.”
Rick sighed and pulled a pad out of his back pocket. Immediately Rochester and Rascal mobbed him, and he had to push them away. “Spell those names,” he said.
I did. “Talk to Mr. MacRae, too. He and Mr. Watnik are two of the more coherent folks there.”
“What did you think of the place?” Rick asked.
“It looks and smells clean, and the staff seem kind and caring. They have lots of events for the patients, and there are always aides around.” I paused to think for a minute. “You think maybe one of the staff has it in for patients?”
“Doesn’t make business sense, because every time a patient dies they lose the revenue from Medicare or insurance or whatever. And I doubt families are ordering hits on their relatives to avoid the co-pays.”
“Are you going to investigate?” I asked.
“I’m going to wait for the autopsy results before I go crazy,” he said. “But if I have to, I can run background checks on the staff and get the Department of Health involved.”
He reached around to put his pad away, and his bicep flexed. That triggered something but it took me a few seconds to make the connection.
“Was Mr. Fictura on an IV?” I asked.
“Why?”
I explained what Jackie Conrad had told me about how easy it was to get that liquid into a patient’s IV. “The potassium
stolen from the vet’s office could have been injected into Mr. Fictura.”
“You think someone at the vet’s office knew Mr. Fictura?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ve been looking at each person on the staff, and every one of them has someone in his or her life who could be helped into the afterlife, to put it politely, although I admit that some of the reasons I’ve come up with are stretching pretty far. The killer could be practicing on people at the nursing home.”
Tamsen called everyone to the table, and we stood up. “You have a very active imagination, Steve,” Rick said. “Sadly, sometimes what you imagine comes true.”
22 – Faithful
We had a great dinner, the adults talking and the boys trying to slip food to the dogs. Lili volunteered to help Tamsen and Hannah clean up, and Rick, Eric and I accompanied the boys and the dogs to the den. Very quickly, both boys were on their backs on the carpet, with dogs jumping over them.
When the dogs took a break to lick themselves, Nathaniel said, “See, Dad, I get along with dogs. They like me.”
I knew that Nathaniel was desperate to get a dog, but so far his parents were resisting, and I figured this was my cue to jump in. “You like to sleep late, Nathaniel?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. But we have school really early. The bus comes at seven-thirty.”
“You know, dogs need a walk in the morning,” I said. “You’d have to get up at least a half hour earlier to manage that.”
The dogs tired of their game and sprawled together beside the sofa. “And you have to clean up after your dog, too,” Rick said. “Sometimes when I go to pick up Rascal’s poop it’s all runny and smelly.”
“Yuck,” Justin said. He sat up and elbowed his cousin. “You could be poop boy!”
“You’re a poopy head,” Nathaniel said.
“A dog is a big commitment,” I said to both boys. “Not like a game you can get tired of and put away.”
