Melinda stirred. The talking awakened her. “Who’s following us?”
Lowell looked at his daughter curled up in a little ball, looking about ten. “Nobody, honey, go back to sleep.”
She did.
They got back to the city at three in the afternoon. Andy dropped David at the office and then took Melinda downtown to her office.
Lowell spent the rest of the day reviewing the information he already had and putting his mind back on track. At five Sarah came in. “I’m heading home. You need anything before I go?”
“No. But I’m leaving too. If you wait a minute I’ll walk you out.”
They exited the building and turned left. Although it was still quite warm there was a sharp late summer breeze. Sarah pulled her shirt collar up around her ears. “I could use a drink.”
Lowell looked at his watch. “Me too. Let’s go to Morgan’s Pub. I’ll buy you a cocktail.”
“Okay, sailor. But don’t get fresh.” Sarah winked.
***
They sat at the bar in Morgan’s Pub, a well-known neighborhood saloon with a decidedly upscale menu. Lowell was very fussy about where he ate and drank. In his youth he had worked for several years as a bartender in Manhattan and knew the truth. Most bars weren’t very clean. And bartenders who wash their glasses in the sink behind the bar with the little twirling washing machine didn’t clean them at all. The water was never hot enough and the brushes were often filthy. Morgan’s gave the impression of being a rundown dive, but Lowell knew that was an illusion to please the bohemian fantasies of the middle-class clientele. The food was top-notch, the staff knowledgeable and affable, and the glasses all went back to the kitchen to be washed.
Sarah’s martini glass looked huge. She held it with both hands. “What made you study aikido?”
“I’m not a large man, as you know. As a child I had to fend off bullies and stand my ground.” Lowell took a sip of his Beck’s. “I took karate and became efficient at it, but it almost tore my tendons to shreds and I was always in pain. It takes a great toll on the body, especially the legs. Most karate aficionados are half crippled by the time they’re fifty, and the truth is, unless you’re a real master at it, it can actually be counterproductive. I did earn a brown belt.”
Sarah toothpicked an olive from her martini and nibbled at it. “Isn’t that right before a black belt?”
“Yes. Anyway, I knew a guy when I was studying in Boston who was a black belt. He was quite good at it, and usually won the sparring contests. One night he was in a bar and a couple of big guys got fresh with his date. He went outside with them where they clobbered him. Apparently they were also into the martial arts. Put him in the hospital for a month with a broken jaw and some cracked ribs. Had he not been over-confident he might have left the bar without incident, or maybe sought backup.”
“So you took up aikido?”
“It’s a much gentler and less intrusive form of self-defense. Of course I try to use all of the knowledge I’ve accrued from judo, karate, aikido, and common sense, if I get into a physical altercation. And I also use whatever is available to me at the time.”
“I remember how you used the fruit as weapons down in Soho in the rock ’n’ roll case.”
He nodded. “Anything can be used as a weapon. You read Shibumi. So you understand the philosophy.”
She sipped her drink and nodded. “How does aikido work?”
“It has to do with pressure points, direction, and position more than actual strength. For example, the body bends in certain ways.” He held up his left hand. “The wrist will bend forward quite well, but has less mobility backwards. And if you try to bend it from side to side, there is almost no give. If I can get your wrist into a position where I can manipulate its motion, I can cause you great pain and even a broken bone using very little power. The same is true of all the joints. Anyone can learn the technique, with a little work.”
“Can you show me something now?”
It was still early and the bar was fairly empty. A couple were sipping martinis, a few patrons were watching football. The bartender was at the service bar at the other end of the room chatting with the blond twenty-something waitress.
“Here, stand up and I’ll show you a simple move.” She stood. “Grab my right wrist with your right hand.”
She did so. Then Lowell placed his left hand on top of hers holding it in place, twisted his right hand inward around her wrist, and put just the slightest amount of pressure on it. She went to her knees.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, but that was the least amount of pressure I could use. If I had used enough I would have broken your wrist.”
“And it doesn’t matter who’s stronger?”
“Up to a point. A giant of a man would not easily succumb to something like that. But yes, size is less important than angle, and the proper training.”
“Can I try it on you?”
He sighed. “If you must.”
He grabbed her right wrist with his right hand. She thought for a moment, and then put her left hand on his holding it tight as he had done, twisted her right hand around, and put pressure down, causing Lowell to drop to one knee.
“Okay, not bad for a first time. You can let go now.”
She released the hold. “Wow, cool!”
“Once you have your adversary in a weakened position you must then finish the job with a properly placed punch or kick. Otherwise when he gets up he’ll resume the attack more guardedly.”
He took a sip of his beer.
“Show me more.”
“Sarah.”
“Pleeeese?”
He smirked and shook his head. “Okay. Here’s another simple trick. Put your hands on my chest as if you’re going to push me back.”
They both stood up and Sarah put her hands against his chest. Lowell held his forearms against her hands holding them in place, then leaned forward, bending her wrists backwards just slightly.
Sarah’s eyes opened wide. “Wow.”
“Now you try it.”
They reversed the actions and she got it on the first try.
“Holy crap, Batman! Teach me more.”
“Later. I came here to relax.”
They sipped their drinks and chatted about the caseload. The bar was beginning to fill up with weary mid-town workers unwinding after a long day.
Sarah pushed her bright red hair back behind her ears. “That Williamson thing was easy enough.”
“Hmm, yes I suppose so.”
“Well you did find the child in time.”
Lowell tugged on his ponytail. “I hope so.”
“But something is still bothering you.”
Lowell looked her in the eye but said nothing.
Chapter Sixteen
They finished their drinks and left the bar.
“Will you walk me home?”
He patted her hand in a fatherly fashion. “Of course.”
She took his arm and they walked west across Twenty-fourth Street. When they reached Seventh Avenue they turned south.
The late August breeze had chilled. Sarah shivered slightly. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“When have I ever minded?” He laughed. “And when have you ever hesitated? You are an Aries, after all. What is it?”
“How did you live with the loss of Robert?”
“One day at a time.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you.”
He put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Sarah. You’re family now. You can ask me anything you want to. At first it was unbearable. I couldn’t sleep or stop thinking about it. But as the months passed it became a part of me, almost as if Robert still lived in my ongoing memories and had never died. I would think about how he would respond to a situation and often found myse
lf talking to him as if he were there with me.”
Sarah grabbed his arm tighter. “Your marriage…”
Lowell breathed in deeply. “For a long time Catherine blamed me for Robert’s death as I think you already know. It became too painful for us to be together. He was always there between us. But as the months turned into years it receded a bit into the background.”
“But you didn’t forget him.”
He shook his head. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him and wish he were here living out the life I know he could have created for himself. But I also finally understood that it was doing nobody any good to wallow in the sadness. Robert wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“That’s why you became a detective.”
“You think so?”
“I think you had to direct your anger and feelings of impotence into something useful, and helping those who had no other place to turn seemed like a way to do so.”
He smiled.
They were walking down Eleventh Street toward Fifth Avenue when two men approached them.
One of the men had a long scar on the side of his face that appeared to be fairly old. He stopped in front of them.
Lowell was not easily intimidated, but his concern for Sarah’s safety limited his choices. “Can I help you?”
The other man nodded silently and took out a gun.
Sarah’s body tensed.
The gunman pointed to a double-parked blue Chevy. It looked like the same car Lowell had seen on the highway, but he couldn’t be sure. “Get in the car.”
Lowell took a deep breath to center himself. “Now why would we want to do that?”
“You want to die?” The man pointed the pistol at Lowell and turned to his partner. “Grab the girl.”
The scarred man reached out and took hold of Sarah’s right wrist. She had only a second to react. She reached over with her left hand, tightly held on to the man’s hand, and twisted her right hand around, just as Lowell had taught her. Then with all of her might she pushed down on his wrist. The man went to his knees, and before he could regain his footing Sarah stepped back and kicked him in the groin with her pointed boot. He went down on the sidewalk, grabbing himself in agony.
“Ow, you bitch!”
He lay there moaning and rolling around.
As the other man was distracted, Lowell grabbed the hand holding the gun, stepping out of the way of the barrel, just as two shots rang out. The bullets flew past him, one landing into the side of a brownstone, the other going through the windshield of a white Mazda and setting off the car’s alarm.
Lowell twisted the gun from the man’s hand and threw it into the street. Then he pulled the assailant toward him and simultaneously slammed the man’s chest with an open hand, pushing him backwards onto the ground. He kicked the man in the face, and blood oozed from his mouth. Lowell grabbed Sarah’s hand and they ran down the street.
When they were a few blocks away Sarah was still trying to catch her breath.
Lowell looked back, but nobody was following. He turned to her. “Are you alright?”
She was breathing heavily, but smiling. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done!” She raised her fist. “Women rule!”
“Come on, Wonder Woman, let’s get home.” He took out his cell phone and a few minutes later Andy was there.
“What happened, Boss?”
“We were attacked by two men who tried to push us into a blue sedan.”
Andy nodded. “Same car from the highway?”
“I’m not sure,” said Lowell. “But it would be some coincidence if not. We’re going to have to watch our backs now.”
Andy unconsciously touched the shoulder holster that held his revolver. “I’m ready.”
They dropped Sarah off at her building near the corner of Sixth Avenue. Lowell walked her to her front stoop. “Will you be alright alone tonight?”
Sarah’s eyes opened wide. “Why? You don’t think I’m in any danger, do you?”
“No, I just want to be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. The building is secure and the super lives right next to me.” She grinned. “He knows karate.”
“Get a good night’s sleep. I’m going to need you sharp and alert tomorrow.” He watched as she climbed the half dozen steps to her front door.
She waved and entered her foyer. Lowell entered the limo and waited for a few minutes eyeing the streets, and then Andy drove him to the townhouse.
Chapter Seventeen
Roland looked haggard. “So you were attacked by two strangers last night?”
Lowell and Sarah were in Lieutenant Roland’s office at the Nineteenth Precinct. His desk was inundated with piles of papers and haphazardly scattered folders. On the wall behind his chair were framed pictures of Ronald Reagan and George H. Bush. “W’s” portrait was noticeably missing. Roland held a cup of coffee with two hands and intermittently blew on it and took small sips.
Roland looked at Sarah. “This isn’t the first time I’m giving you this advice…”
“I know Lieutenant,” she interrupted, “I should find another line of work.”
Roland shook his head. “If you were my daughter…” He shrugged. “Would you both mind looking through some mug shots?”
“Not at all,” said Lowell.
They went downstairs and started what Lowell knew was often a fruitless search through the pictures of known criminals.
After almost two hours, Roland came in.
“Anything?”
Lowell shook his head. He stood up and stretched, looked at the time on his phone, and was about to tell Sarah to stop when she shouted.
“That’s him! That’s the guy I kicked in the…street.” She giggled. Lowell was afraid she was going to raise her arm and shout triumphantly.
Roland stood behind her and looked at the face. “Are you sure? I mean absolutely sure?”
Sarah nodded emphatically.
“I’ll never forget the look on his face when he doubled over.” She looked down at the picture. “Call me a bitch, will ya?”
Roland picked up the phone and pushed a few buttons. “Harry, it’s Phil. I just got a positive ID on George McFarley…Yes, I’m pretty sure it’s accurate…I don’t know what he’s doing in New York…He wasn’t alone. He had some bozo with him. I want a list of known associates ASAP.” He hung up.
Lowell retied his ponytail, and looked Roland squarely in the face. “What is it? What’s bothering you?”
Roland looked at Sarah, shook his head, and then looked away.
Sarah caught the look. “It’s okay, Lieutenant, I’m a big girl. What is it?”
He looked back at her, and then looked at Lowell. “Okay, I don’t know who you pissed off, but this is bad business. This guy’s murder-for-hire. And he seems to really like his work. He’s accused of chopping up several people, at least one while she was still alive.”
Sarah stood up. “What? I’m not that big a girl. Oh my God!”
“Phil, are you sure?”
Roland stood and stretched. “David, this isn’t something I would joke about. This guy’s a nut job. But he’s very smart. And very elusive, and there’s no evidence to connect him to any of the murders he’s suspected of. We try to keep tabs on his whereabouts, but it’s difficult. He falls off the radar for long periods of time. This is the first lead we’ve had on him in months. What are you working on that would bring up such a headache?”
“I’m looking into a pretty large embezzlement, and I just finished a missing person case, and a few other odds and ends. But I can’t imagine any of them would lead to this.”
“How big an embezzlement?”
“Millions.”
Roland whistled. “That must have been some paper bag.”
Lowell chuckled. “Not that kind of emb
ezzlement. It was a retirement fund for a company. The money was transferred electronically, probably to a dummy account.”
“Well, that’s enough money for someone to make sure you don’t get too close. Do you know who’s responsible?”
“I just figured out who stole the money and told the president of the company a few days ago.”
“And you were attacked last night? I’d look into it if I were you.”
Lowell nodded. “Yes. I plan to.”
Sarah didn’t look so good.
“Are you alright?” asked the policeman.
She nodded slightly. “I‘ll be fine in a few minutes.” Her pallor was a pale and her eyes glassy.
Roland’s phone rang.
“Roland…Yes, Captain, I’ve got two witnesses…David Lowell and Sarah Palmer…Yes that David Lowell…Okay, I’ll tell them.”
He hung up.
“Well?” Lowell’s concern was obvious.
“The captain wants you to be careful.”
“I have every intention of staying alive, Lieutenant. But thank him for his concern.”
“You still have that big guy on your payroll?”
“Yes, Andy still works for me.”
“Well, use him. Don’t be stubborn.”
Roland’s phone rang again. He picked it up, and then waved them off.
Lowell and Sarah got up and left without saying goodbye.
Chapter Eighteen
Melinda and Mort were in Lowell’s office watching him pace in front of the windows.
Melinda was seated at his desk, a worried look on her face. “What cases are you working on?”
Lowell stopped to pet Keaton. “Nothing that I thought would put us in danger.”
“Well, someone wants you out of the way.”
He nodded. “I think we have to go into protective mode.”
Mort’s eyes opened wide. “You’re not going to make us stay at the townhouse again, are you?”
“I don’t think that’s quite necessary. But I won’t take any chances with our safety. We’re going to have to flush this problem out into the open.”
Evil in the First House: A Starlight Detective Agency (Starlight Detective Agency Mysteries Book 3) Page 8
