“I’ll see what I can come up with.”
Lowell picked up Johnny’s chart.
“This week’s full moon eclipse is exactly in square to our client’s moon, and I’m worried that there might be an incident.”
“Trouble on Riker’s Island? Don’t be silly.” Mort laughed, the sound an odd squawk.
“I may have no choice but to put up bail for her.”
“You’ll make Melinda happy, anyway.”
Lowell sighed. “That’s true. I’ll look into it later. Right now I’m going down to the judge’s chambers to talk to her clerk. Then at some point I want to go back to her apartment. I want you with me so you can use that bizarre brain of yours to get into her home computer.”
Lowell stood up, shrugged on his favorite leather jacket, and rearranged his ponytail on top of the collar.
***
Andy drove Lowell downtown to the courthouse. It was ten and the place was already a madhouse. He went up to the judge’s chambers on the third floor where he was met by her clerk, Larry Rosen.
“I was Judge Winston’s clerk for the past three years,” he told Lowell, on the way to his office. “I’ve never met a nicer or more capable person in the whole system. It’s really a damn shame.”
He waved his hand around the corridor at the people they were passing. “We all miss her.”
“What was she like?”
Rosen smiled, gesturing Lowell into his small office outside the judge’s chambers. “She was an exceedingly competent jurist with a clear and sharp mind. She never used her looks nor let them get in her way.”
“So how did she wind up here?”
Rosen moved around to his side of the desk as Lowell sat.
“As in any career there are stepping stones.”
“So she was planning a career move?”
“I’m not really at liberty to discuss the judge’s plans.”
“Were you here when it happened?”
“I’ve already told all of this to the police.”
“I know, but if you don’t mind, it’s better to get things from the source than to try and interpret what each person has added to the story.”
“All right,” Rosen let out an exasperated sigh. “I was working at my desk out front when I heard the explosion.”
“How long before that had Judge Winston left?”
“About ten minutes, maybe fifteen, no more.”
“How do you know that so specifically?”
“Because I always wait fifteen minutes exactly after she leaves before I go home for the night, in case she forgot something. It’s like a ritual with us. Or at least it was.”
His face showed just the appropriate amount of grief. But Lowell came from a family of actors and knew full well that we all wear many masks. There was only one place he could always find the truth about someone. In their birth chart.
“Did she leave at exactly the same time each night?”
“The judge didn’t believe in absolute rigidity. She always wanted some variation, even if it was in the small details. So, no, she made it a point not to arrive at exactly eight, or to leave at exactly five. It could be as much as a half-hour in either direction.”
Lowell nodded. She was a New Moon baby. They like to be the initiators, the lead dog. Not sheep.
“Did you get along with the judge?”
“I thought she was a wonderfully intelligent and charming woman. She made clerking more fun.”
“And you two never had problems?”
“Problems? Not at all. She and I saw eye to eye on almost everything. Especially politically.”
“Why was that?”
“We are, were, both conservative Republicans. But we came to it from different angles.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was raised by sixties liberals. My father was a New York Democrat assemblyman who fought hard for the issues he believed in. I never shared his political point of view. When I decided to go into law he felt sure I would turn out to be the same liberal voice he had been. But he was wrong. In fact, he was wrong about almost everything.” Rosen reached for a deli take-out cup of coffee and swirled it in his hand. “Judge Winston came from a staunch Roosevelt-hating Republican family from out West. And she approved of their politics. She thought I was smart, and she needed someone who had the same values she held. So I became her clerk.”
“She ever piss you off?”
“Sometimes. Of course.”
“But I thought you two saw eye to eye on everything?”
“Oh, there are always a few little disagreements. I mean, my God, nobody gets along a hundred percent of the time. But never anything beyond a minor intellectual debate.”
“Were you present when my client was in Judge Winston’s courtroom two days before the murder?”
“I was, in fact. I had brought some papers down to the judge and witnessed the altercation between the two.”
“And had you seen the defendant previously?”
“Yes, she had been in Judge Winston’s court a number of times.”
“I see. So she was quite aware of the victim?”
“Oh yes, they had words in the past, although not as boisterous as on that day.”
“What was the judge’s reaction to Ms. Colbert’s outburst?”
“She was as mad as I had ever seen her. For the rest of the day it bothered her.”
“Did she feel threatened by the defendant?”
“Well, she must have. After she had her released from lockup she asked me to walk her to her car that night.”
“And that was unusual?”
“She had never before asked for an escort. Judge Winston was a very self-sufficient person. She never asked anyone for help. But after she released the defendant, she must have felt some fear.”
“But only two days later, the day of the murder, she didn’t request that you accompany her?”
“No, I guess she felt the threat had passed.”
Rosen raised his right hand to his forehead. “If only I had, maybe I could have done something.”
“Did Judge Winston have any enemies that you knew of?”
“She was the sweetest, brightest person I had ever worked with. Everybody loved her.”
“Nobody had ever threatened her, as far as you know?”
“No.”
“But if she was afraid for her life, as you implied, why would she release Ms. Colbert? Wouldn’t she have exhausted every possible means of keeping her in custody and protecting herself?”
“Judge Winston was very strong and independent. She didn’t let things get to her the way they do to most people. I think she just wanted the whole incident to go away. If anything, she was probably just afraid that your client might attack her in the garage, not put a bomb in her car.”
“So her fear was rather fleeting, is that it?”
“I don’t think she ever thought in terms of vengeance or underhanded acts. Farrah Winston was a direct and honest person who looked the world in the face and expected others to do the same. She was genuinely shocked when a friend or associate bad-mouthed her or acted in a dishonest way. She figured if that woman was going to hurt her, she would do it face to face.”
“Okay, thanks for your time.”
He got up, and his hand was on the doorknob when he turned suddenly.
“Oh, would you mind telling me your birth date?”
“Why, of course not,” Rosen said. “April 17, 1968.”
Lowell took out a small notebook out and made a notation. Then he returned it to his jacket pocket.
“I’ll be in touch.”
***
The next stop was uptown, the law offices of Bernstein and Milford. It was just
before noon as he arrived. Andy had navigated traffic up Park like a slalom skier.
Lowell was quickly ushered into the private suite of this prestigious firm’s senior partner.
“Won’t you sit down?” Mark Milford was a good four or five inches taller than Lowell, in his early fifties, with sandy hair just starting to grey.
The office was huge, a corner suite with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Park Avenue. It was a beautiful room furnished in modern metallic, with a four-stool wet bar, couches and lavishly embroidered rugs, all presumably marked up an absurd amount by a corporate decorator. After some consideration and a battle between envy and pride, Lowell decided he preferred his own office. It was homier.
“Would you like something? Some coffee perhaps? Or something stronger?”
“No,” said Lowell, “nothing. I won’t take up too much of your time. There were just a few questions.”
“Of course, anything I can do to help.”
“You were on the phone from here with Judge Winston when the explosion took place?”
“That’s right.”
“How long were you and Ms. Winston dating?”
“We met about a month ago at a dinner. We were each getting over a bad breakup and just kind of fell into each other’s lives. I feel cheated by her death. We were only just starting to feel comfortable with each other when it happened.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. The judge was getting over a breakup? With whom?”
“She never told me his name, and I never asked. But I had the impression it was someone important, and probably a bit older than she. Well, of course, so am I.”
“So you have no idea who this person is?”
“I did come in once when she was on the phone, and I’m sure it was with him. But I never did find out his name.” The lawyer paused. “I understand that you are an astrologer.”
“At the moment I am working in the capacity of a licensed private investigator for whom astrology is a tool, yes.”
“Well, that must be a fascinating business. You must read my cards someday. Perhaps we can hire you for our Christmas party. People love that kind of stuff.”
Lowell smiled just a little.
“What do you charge?”
“A million dollars.”
“Huh?”
“Plus carfare.”
“Oh, I see; a joke. Good one. I beg your pardon. Sometimes I speak without thinking.”
“No problem.”
“What else can I tell you about Farrah?”
“I understand she has a sister.”
“That’s right,” said Milford, “lives somewhere in Jersey. I only met her once. She’s nothing like Farrah. Almost the complete opposite in every way.”
“Did they get along?”
“You know how it is with siblings. They were nice enough to each other, but I felt a little underlying conflict. Maybe some envy.”
“What was Farrah’s mood like during the past few weeks? Was she tense, or apprehensive in any way?”
Milford got up, walked over to the bar, and poured himself a glass of juice. Even in his simplest actions there was an air of self-importance.
“Not that I noticed. But she had been quite busy recently and I didn’t see that much of her. Also, she was very excited about something, but she never had a chance to tell me what. In fact, she was on her way to pick me up for dinner to discuss it when she was killed.”
“You have no idea what she was going to tell you?”
“None. Although I knew that it was very important for her. And it was most certainly related to her career.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because the only things that ever excited Farrah had to do with her career. She was a very ambitious woman with big ideas and an overwhelming potential. I know something big had been in the works for some months. In fact, she was already involved in it when we met. Whatever it was, it would have made her very happy.”
“But you have no idea what it was?”
“Sorry, I wish I could be of more help.”
“I understand. Would you mind giving me your date, time and place of birth?”
“Of course not. It’s a matter of record anyway. I was born on June 14, 1956, in New London, Connecticut. I believe the time was 7:15 a.m.”
“Thank you. Just one more question. Do you know of anyone who would want her dead?”
“Farrah was a wonderful woman,” said Milford. “She was bright and energetic, and always willing to talk about anything. I really don’t think she had an enemy in the world.”
“Well,” said Lowell, “she had one.”
Chapter Nine
The woman lit her third cigarette in the ten minutes Lowell had been there. She blew the smoke out of the right side of her mouth trying not to direct it toward him, but in so small a room it was virtually impossible for him not to share.
Sarah had retrieved the address in New Jersey and Andy had easily found it on his Garmin. The string of lights inside the Lincoln Tunnel played across the monitor screen inside the limo as Lowell entered the clerk’s and lawyer’s birth information. He’d processed the two interviews, but now it was time to get another perspective. The city’s skyline looked like a row of jagged teeth, but that vertical image gave way to the flatness of the Jersey’s meadowlands, which still contained a few patches of actual meadow.
“You know how they always say one sister gets the looks, the other gets the brains?” Her voice was tiny. “Well, look at me. I got short-changed twice.”
She was a mousy little woman who looked at the floor when she spoke. She seemed pathologically shy and made Lowell feel a little uncomfortable. She nervously flicked the cigarette into the ashtray even when no ash had accumulated.
“Even as a baby Farrah was beautiful. I think my parents knew she would grow up to be gorgeous when they decided to name her after a movie star. Farrah always had her poster up in our room when we were kids. I hated it.”
She inhaled about half the cigarette in one drag.
“She was the beautiful one, so my parents figured I was the one with the smarts, and they pushed me and pushed me. When I didn’t get A’s they sent me to tutors, therapists, motivational training, anything one of their friends sent their kid to. But it didn’t help. I’m just not that smart. But Farrah was. She started getting straight A’s in elementary school and never stopped. You know, in high school she was both the valedictorian and prom queen. Can you imagine? Never in the history of our school had that happened. And I was her sister. Her ugly, untalented, dumb sister. Just about anyone who became my friend only wanted to get close to her.”
“You were older?”
“Yes, by three years.”
Lowell had to sit forward in his chair to hear her. “So why did you move east?
“What was I supposed to do? She was the magnet, the one who brought the boys. All our lives I got the leftovers, not that I cared, mind you. If it wasn’t for her, I never would have had the courage to talk to a boy, let alone kiss one. When Farrah graduated from Columbia and decided to stay in New York, I moved here, too.”
There were pictures of her with her husband and child on the side table next to the couch.
“You have a lovely family.”
“Thank you, I got lucky. I managed to hook a nice guy. But I only met him because Farrah had a date one night and had to fix the guy’s cousin up with someone or else he would have had to cancel.”
Lowell glanced at the pile of bills on the coffee table between them, and she noticed.
“We were doing fine until my husband got laid off.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We’ll survive.”
Lowell wanted to get to the present day. “Can you think of anyo
ne who would want to hurt your sister?”
She continued to look at the floor as she spoke, holding the lit cigarette in front of her face, seemingly unaware of the curl of smoke invading her eyes.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out since this happened. She was so popular, it couldn’t be someone who hated her. Nobody did. So I figure it was someone who loved her.”
“You mean someone who was jealous of her?”
“I know what you’re getting at. I wasn’t jealous of my sister. I loved her. Sure, I wish I had her looks or her personality, but I did all right. Maybe Joey isn’t the best-looking guy on the block, but he loves me and he tries to make a good home. I think it was one of her boyfriends.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Nah, she didn’t always tell me who she was dating. But when you look like her you can be sure there will be jealousy. The last one I met was some lawyer named Milford.”
“Do you know who she was dating before Mark Milford?”
She shook her head. “She kept that one a secret. I always wondered who she was with, but whenever I asked her she would just laugh and say that it was post-graduate work, whatever that meant.”
“Do you know if there was an insurance policy?”
She picked her head up and looked Lowell in the eye.
“Yes, there was,” she said, her voice a bit louder, “for three hundred thousand dollars. And before you bother asking, yes, I am the beneficiary. And except for a little she left to our parents, I am also the main beneficiary of her will.”
This time she blew the smoke directly into Lowell’s face.
“Was there anything else?”
Chapter Ten
Andy had picked up sandwiches for the ride back, and they were just entering in the maw of midtown when Lowell’s phone rang. He was enjoying the simulation of a bright sunny day in southern California by the coast highway, and the sudden interruption jarred him back to reality.
“Dad, it’s me,” said his daughter, in her professional voice. “There’s been an incident on Riker’s Island. Someone stabbed Johnny and I’m on my way to see her.”
Murder in the Eleventh House Page 6
