Murder in the Eleventh House

by Mitchell Scott Lewis

The scene outside was chaos. A limousine driver had apparently smashed his car into a double-parked car.

  The concierge ran up to the driver. “Hey, you’ve got to get this thing out of here.”

  “This guy backed up into me,” said Andy. “Look at that damage. I’m not paying for that.”

  The other driver was shouting back. “I did no such thing. He ran right into the back of my car.”

  “I don’t see any damage to your car at all,” said Andy.

  “Look, I don’t care,” said the concierge, “you’ve just got to clear the front of this building or I’ll call the cops.”

  Andy pointed at the other driver. “You’re just lucky I’m in a hurry.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” the other man protested.

  Andy got in the limo and drove away. He picked up his two little bandits around the corner.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They returned to the midtown office. Work was Lowell’s stabilizer, and whether in his office, the limo, or at home, he needed to be busy and focused. A multitasker, he could concentrate on several issues at the same time, alternating between them in an unbroken stream of consciousness. It was not good for his mind to remain idle for any length of time.

  Lowell took the hard drive out of Mort’s bag and put it on the desk.

  “Let’s see what it’s all about.”

  Mort opened the casing to one of Lowell’s computers and exchanged the drives. Then he booted the machine and started working on the firewalls.

  “This is one of the most complex security systems I’ve encountered in a long time.”

  After a bit of typing, tinkering, and muttering to himself, he turned to David. “Eureka.”

  Lowell gave him a sideways glance.

  “I always wanted to say that.”

  “What have you got for me?”

  “Well, it looks like Judge Winston was not going to be presiding over debtor’s court for much longer.”

  “What makes you say so?”

  “I could only get into one file so far,” said Mort, his head bobbing with excitement as he talked. “Whoever programmed these defenses was quite creative. They’ve set it up as a maze, with many false turns. It’s going to take me some time to break through all of them. But I did get to this.”

  He turned on the printer and hit the print button. A moment later he took a piece of paper from the tray and handed it to Lowell. “If I’m not mistaken, this is a list of political donors.”

  Lowell took the sheet of paper and perused it. It was a list of twenty names with a dollar amount next to each, the smallest being one million dollars. “Well, this is rather impressive. This is an A-1 group of some of the top Republican money people in the country. I count no fewer than five billionaires, and all willing to back an unknown entity. They must have had a lot of faith in this woman. I would say she was being groomed for a political career in the Republican Party. And I think they had very big plans for her.”

  “How big?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe as big as they get.”

  “Do you think this had something to do with her murder?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. The ruler of her 11th House was being afflicted at the time of her death, and that has much to do with political issues. Still, the indicators are that no matter what other motivations may have been present, this murder seems to have been more about money than anything. I hate to say it, but…”

  “We’re going to have to do some more actual work?”

  “And I think I know where to start.”

  ***

  Rosen ushered them into his office.

  “Mr. Lowell, nice to see you again so soon.”

  “This is my colleague, Mort Simpson.”

  Rosen nodded politely. They sat.

  “There are just a few more questions,” said Lowell, taking out the list of donors. “First of all, could you explain this to me? It came into my possession only yesterday and I thought perhaps you could shed some light on its meaning.”

  He pushed the paper across the desk.

  Rosen glanced down at it with instant recognition, and shock.

  “Of course,” he quickly regained his composure. “This is a list of pledged contributors to the Judge’s future political career. How did you get this? I must congratulate you. It’s supposed to be a well-kept secret. Apparently you are a man of some resources.”

  “How we got it isn’t important. Is there some reason you didn’t mention this to me the first time we met? Didn’t you think it warranted discussion in a murder trial?”

  “For one thing,” said Rosen, pushing the paper back toward Lowell with a bit more force than was necessary, “within certain political circles this is all common knowledge. There was nothing underhanded or manipulative. But it isn’t fodder for the public. At least not yet. These are private matters that are of no concern to you. Second, there is no reason to seek an alternative motive. The police have the murderer, and despite your best efforts to redirect attention where it doesn’t belong, they are going to convict her.”

  “So this prominent group of extremely wealthy corporate giants, bankers, and political heavyweights had decided to put their rather robust support behind an unknown?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, that is the way things are going these days. Nobody trusts Washington, so everyone is looking for outsiders they can push into office. It makes perfect sense to me.”

  “Try and sneak the candidates in before anyone knows anything about them, is that it?”

  “Mr. Lowell, this country is in a war for its survival. It is a war of ideology in a time when moral deterioration has reached a place of crisis. If the people do not elect the proper rulers to represent their best interests in Washington, I’m afraid our vast society will continue to crumble until we are only a shell of our former greatness. If it requires sidestepping the very system that has been failing, why not?”

  “Yes, I think I’m beginning to understand. But why choose Farrah Winston?”

  “She was exactly what was needed at this point in history. A young, beautiful woman raised in a strict conservative household with a Republican lineage that runs back generations. One of the next presidents of the United States will most likely be a woman. After a term in the Senate or the House, Farrah would have been just right.”

  “She was going to run for Senate?”

  Rosen nodded. “Eventually. As you can see from that list, a lot of people believed in her.”

  “From New York?”

  “Are you crazy? She was all set to move back to Utah. She kept a residence there and even flew back to vote each fall. But now that dream is over.”

  That explains why there was so little of a personal nature in her new apartment, thought Lowell. She wasn’t planning on being there very long.

  “And when she embarked upon her new career, were you were going to be on her team?”

  “I can safely say that she felt I was indispensable. I would have been more than just on her team. I would have helped run it. She needed someone whose values she could rely on. We have very little time left to fix what is broken. The future is now.”

  “The future is now?” repeated Lowell. “That sounds vaguely familiar. Is that your philosophy?”

  “That has always been my perspective. There just aren’t a lot of people who truly understand that concept.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yes, I understand it. I will do whatever it takes to prevent the moral destruction of America.”

  “Whatever it takes,” repeated Lowell.

  “Was there anything else?”

  Lowell and Mort stood.

  “No,” said Lowell, “I think that’s it. Thank you for your time.”

  ***


  “Well, what did you think?” asked Lowell when they were settled in the limo.

  “I think he believed every word he said,” replied Mort. “And I think he’s just a wee bit psychotic.”

  “I agree.”

  “He also has a problem with his right knee.”

  Lowell laughed. “You know, he said one word that told me all I needed to know.”

  “What word was that?”

  “When he was talking about the power struggle in America, he said how important it is for the people to elect the proper rulers, not leaders.”

  “Interesting choice of words.”

  “But not accidental. I also think he believes everything he said. He believes there is a cultural war going on in this country, and sees conspiracy everywhere. He is an extremist who thinks that only his philosophy is the right one. That may qualify him as a zealot. Quite a dangerous perspective.”

  “So, what do you think?“

  Lowell was gazing out the window as the city flew by.

  “This goes much deeper than I thought. According to what Rosen just told us, we may be looking at the assassination of a future political candidate.”

  “Is that possibility in her chart?”

  “As with us all, only the potential. But yes, she had the chance to have an amazing career no matter what she chose to do.”

  “So, maybe she wasn’t killed over a few credit card debts.”

  “No, said Lowell, “maybe not.”

  Chapter Twenty

  That night, Melinda and David were eating at Louie’s on East Thirty-third Street. Louie was an old hippie who had inherited the building that now housed his all-organic restaurant. The menu had a large vegetarian section that suited David. And the organic wines and beers were top notch.

  “What’s next?” asked Melinda.

  “Well, there are a few leads, but so far not much to go on. I’ll follow up on Larry Rosen. I’m sure he had something to do with all of this, but just how much, or if he was directly involved in the murder, I don’t know.”

  Melinda put her fork down and sighed. “Frankly, if we can’t establish reasonable doubt, I don’t know what we can do for Johnny.”

  Lowell saw the anguish in his daughter’s eyes. He had to admit how dark things looked for their client.

  “So where do we stand?

  “We know that someone murdered Judge Farrah Winston for reasons unknown. We assume that person or persons unknown waited until they had a reasonable fall guy, in this case, our client, who fit the profile. We know that an attempt on Johnny Colbert’s life was carefully orchestrated on Riker’s Island by person or persons unknown.”

  “So we don’t know much, do we?”

  “We also know that it was fate that you were handed this case. Otherwise Johnny Colbert would most certainly be facing life imprisonment.”

  “Well, if she was set up, can’t we work backwards and see who had the opportunity and motive.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do,” said Lowell. “But the more I look into Farrah Winston’s past the less likely it seems that someone had it in for her. She was affable, well liked, and professional in her work. There is no hint of corruption or competition. Her personal life seems to have been quite tame.”

  “It doesn’t look that good for Johnny, does it?”

  “Not very. But don’t worry. I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He chose not to mention now that he had committed B&E to get the judge’s hard drive. He knew that what they might find couldn’t be used in court, but it could help lead to other, usable evidence.

  “I remember when you could solve things with just that old ratty ephemeris you used to carry around. It had so much tape holding the binding together I’m surprised you could still turn the pages.”

  “There’s nothing ratty about it. Even with computers astrologers still often need to know the placement of the planets for weeks, even years at a time. Using a physical ephemeris lets me flip back and forth in time. I still use it almost every day.”

  “The same one?”

  “Sure. I bought that book in Cambridge in 1975. I wouldn’t part with it for the world. Besides telling me where all the planets are each day of the twentieth century, it holds the karma of so many of my early clients. Of course I have a new one for the twenty-first century. But times have changed. Do you think I could run my business without computers? I need both. I look at several hundred charts a week, sometimes fifty in a day. It used to take me an hour just to draw each one. I couldn’t keep up if the computer didn’t do the math for me.”

  Melinda patted her father’s hand. “You’re still my hero, Dad.”

  ***

  They finished their meal and left the restaurant. It was Andy’s day off so they had driven Lowell’s Prius downtown. The sky looked dark and threatening, so they hurried to the spot on the street they had scored. Lowell prided himself on not paying for a parking garage, and he could parallel park like a pro.

  The chilly rain pelted the car. He pressed the unlock button on his ring and the car lights flashed.

  “Oh, hell, I got a ticket.” He reached around to the windshield at what he thought was the orange envelope that New Yorkers had come to hate.

  But instead, it was a plasticized card. Lowell froze.

  On the card, clearly visible in the weak light of the streetlamp: BOOM. Next time it’s for real.

  ***

  In the safety of the limo, Melinda held her father’s hand. Andy had quickly left the glow of the TV in his Williamsburg loft to pick them up.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Dad, just a little shaken up.”

  ”I hate to sound like a cliché, but at least we know we’re on the right track. I need to talk to Roland first thing tomorrow. And to Johnny.” He opened the refrigerator and took out two beers. “Beer all right with you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bermuda all right with you, too?”

  Melinda laughed for the first time since they left the restaurant. “It’s so true about men and boys and the price of their toys. How much did this cost you?”

  “Not a penny. It was a gift from a grateful client.”

  He turned a few knobs and the windows darkened for a moment, and then lit up with the beaches of Bermuda slowly passing by on a beautiful summer’s day. The sounds and smells that filled the limo were just what one would expect traveling through this tropical paradise.

  They were quiet for a long time.

  Melinda broke the silence. “My God, so who is threatening us?”

  “There are many possibilities.”

  “But why?”

  “We must be closer to the truth than we realize. You know,” he proceeded carefully, “there is the possibility that our own client left the message.”

  Melinda stared at David.

  He tried to ignore her, but finally looked her in the eyes. “I know you don’t like to think about it, but it’s still possible that she is guilty of murder, and if so, she could be capable of anything.”

  “And you think that she left that message to scare us off? How did she get out of the house without Julia noticing?”

  “She did once before, remember?”

  Melinda looked at her father and laughed out loud. “Oh, you old fool, don’t you know she has a crush on you?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  His daughter continued to laugh.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “You’re the older man all little girls dream of. You’re compassionate and understanding, you’re smart as hell and you can take care of yourself. You make them feel safe and secure.”

  “I’m old enough to be…”

  “That’s exactly the point. You’
re old enough to be her father. Girls get tired of little boys, especially when they hit their thirties and their priorities change. Johnny had a lousy relationship with her father, so you’ve become the good daddy.”

  “Thank you, Carl Jung.”

  “I did minor in psychology, you know.”

  “I think she’s a confused woman who only knows what she wants for the immediate moment.”

  “I agree. But I know what she wants right now, and that’s you.”

  “So what would happen if she didn’t get me?”

  “That depends upon how severe her connection to you has become. If it’s only a flirtation it should be harmless. But if it becomes an obsession she might have to act it out in some way.”

  “Like maybe trying to kill me?”

  “I doubt it. More likely she would lie topless in your backyard and then unconsciously expose herself to you when you showed up.”

  “And if that didn’t work, then would she try to kill me?”

  Melinda didn’t answer.

  They sat back for a while and silently enjoyed the faux summer.

  By the end of the ride, Lowell had made a major decision.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning, the whole crew was assembled at the townhouse. Melinda, Mort, Sarah, Julia, Andy, and Johnny sat around the living room on the couch or various chairs. Several suitcases stood out in the hallway by the bottom of the staircase.

  Lowell stood by the fireplace. “As I told you all on the phone last night, from now on, this is the center of operation,” he said. “Until we know what’s going on, nobody is to leave here without Andy taking you.”

  He turned to Mort and Sarah.

  “I don’t know if you are targets as well, but you are all staying here until we can figure out what’s going on. You’ll both be well compensated for your time. Melinda, you can use the den for your office. Sarah, you and Mort will work downstairs in my office with me. Mort, would you please double-check the security now and then work on the hard drive some more. You got it from the office, yes?”

  Mort nodded, his usual demeanor subdued after the news of last night.