Where There's a Will ....There's Murder

by Julie Ramson

We all answered, saying we were glad to help. It had been rough, losing her aunt that way.

  “Do you all really think that it is a mob member who is behind all this?” she asked.

  Digs answered. “Very likely. If they believe that the money found in the box with the skeleton is Tony, and that the money found with him is the money stolen from Lefty, then, yeah. They would want it back. So it’s likely they’re behind this.” He eyed Emily steadily. “And it could be in your aunt's house.”

  She paled. “So that's what they're looking for! Of course!” Is it that Whip guy, do you think?”

  “That’s what we don’t know. Possibly since he's the one who grabbed Maggie. Or another employee of Vito, Lefty’s son.” Sean sighed.

  I smiled at Digs who was eying the pizza. “Oink, oink, Digs. And this little piggy.....” I taunted.

  Digs picked up the pizza and flicked an anchovy at me, those blue eyes lit like a flame. I raised an eyebrow. “You’ll pay for that.” I promised as I brushed the anchovy off my sweatshirt.

  He leaned in. “I can only hope so, Toots. I can only hope so.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. Then he sat back up and turned to the group. “Personally, I do think it's Whip, Vito’s muscle man.”

  Jimmy changed the subject then and we sat for a while, sipping beers or coffee, chatting about other, less horrible things. We didn’t mention anything about the extra expenditures for Herbert, however.

  Emily yawned. “This has been great! Just what I needed but I think it’s time for me to hit the road.” She and Jimmy both rose. She started clearing the table.

  “Don’t worry about that, Emily, I can do it.” I started to get up.

  “No, you sit,” Emily said. “I can do this.” She and Jimmy, Sean and Sam all started clearing dishes, pizza, glasses and coffee mugs. Digs called Killer. No response. He called again and a sleepy Killer came out from the living room. Digs snapped his leash on and started for the elevator. I was watching them and half listening to the conversation in the kitchen. I heard Sam saying, “You are a much stronger person than you realize, Emily. Losing both your parents and going on the way you did. Becoming a counselor for kids.”

  I was starting a list of the people who had been killed on a timeline, starting with Tony Corelli. I added a question mark for Herbert’s car accident, then Lily and Louie at the same time. I put in the first attack on me, the call to Emily at her apartment and the attack on Chris McCann. I added in Victor Castelletti’s death, the arson and the man’s attack on me the night before.

  I stopped, trying to think of a common denominator. Digs and Killer got back and Digs settled into the living room with Sean and Jimmy. They were discussing the skeleton and the murder of Louie Bacci.

  Sam and Emily were still cleaning up the kitchen. “What else could I do?” Emily said in response to Sam's compliments. “ Curl up in a ball? And I was lucky. As the only child I inherited some money from my parents. Enough for school, at least.”

  Sam asked her how she had gotten involved in counseling.

  “I fell into it, sort of.” Emily said. “I was studying to be a teacher and got involved with a youth club that did counseling for some underprivileged kids. I loved it and switched majors.” She asked Sam about accounting and they began discussing careers.

  I went back to my list and pondered the attacks. How could the attacker have known when I was going to be in the house for the first attack? It seemed logical that he heard me because he was staying there at the time. But how did he know when Emily was not in her apartment? Was he watching her? Or it? I still thought that Chris McCann may simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time......or that she looked enough like me that the murderer didn’t realize she was someone else.

  Jimmy and Sean walked back into the dining room. “Emily?” Jimmy called. “Ready?”

  I heard Emily thank Sam again for all she had done. “You all are great!” She came out and gave me a brief hug. “Thanks so much, Maggie. For everything and for tonight. It was really great.”

  I smiled and told her to sleep well and I would call her in a day or so and let her know immediately if we learned anything more. Sam came out and with a hug and a goodbye, she and Sean, Jimmy and Emily all left. I was relieved in a way, however, when they were all gone. My leg was hurting and I wanted to just crawl into bed.

  Digs walked Killer down with the others. When they returned, Killer ran from room to room and finally settled at my feet under the table.

  “Maggie, we need to change your dressing,” Digs said. I nodded and got up and walked into the bathroom. I pulled down the jeans and turned around. Digs had the bag of sterile water and gauze out.

  “Great evening, Maggie!” He said, unwrapping the bandage. He soaked the old bandage on my leg and then gently started pulling the gauze off. He expertly cleaned the wound, then placed new gauze and tape over it. He re-wrapped it all and taped it again.

  “Yeah, it was fun, but I am beat!” I stood and stretched. He left and I closed the door and did my bedtime stuff. I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my nightshirt and changed. Shortly after that, Digs came in, smelling clean and wearing only his shorts.

  This was getting to be some habit, I thought.

  We both climbed in and Digs spooned me to him. “Sleep well, Maggie.” he said with a soft kiss. I was asleep before he could do anything else.

  CHAPTER TWENTY - SIX

  THURSDAY, JANUARY 17

  I woke again to the smell of coffee and the sound of a running shower. Killer was out cold on the bottom of the bed. I was definitely getting spoiled. When I stood my leg hardly throbbed. Not bad. In fact, I felt pretty good. This was important because I had big plans for the day.

  I dressed with more care than usual. Black pants and a russet sweater. Digs came out of the bathroom. “Wow, Mag! Going someplace special?” He walked over and put his arms around me. “One of these nights I’m going to have bed privileges and get you into it before you’re already asleep!” He nuzzled my neck.

  “Yeah? You think?” I said and pulled away. I walked into the bathroom and washed my face, brushed my teeth and started on the makeup and hair. By the time I was done I looked better than I had in almost two weeks. My face was almost its normal color and no swelling.

  The coffee drew me to the kitchen. I poured a cup and sat across from Digs. “I’m planning to stop in at the office today,” I said, “and go to the bank. Emily paid me some additional money yesterday for my time and I need to deposit the check.”

  Digs eyed me. “Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t require dress pants and a fancy sweater.”

  “I don’t always need to look like a delayed adolescent in blue jeans,” I gave him a haughty look. “And......I’m planning to go up to Evanston and see John again.”

  Digs sat back, cup in hand. “Really?” His voice was cool. “Why?”

  I licked my lips. I knew this was going to be a problem. “I want to talk to him without Emily and a dozen other people around. I want to talk to him about Lily and Herbert and his job. I think John knows a lot and we need to ask the right questions.” I peered at Digs from under my lashes. “And I’d like you to come along.”

  He put his head back and thought. “Then I'll agree. Actually, it's a good idea.” He said. I almost fell out of my chair.

  “Really!” My surprise showed.

  “Yep. And I will go with you.”

  “I do want to talk to John myself.”

  He pretended to be hurt. “All right,” he grinned. “But no flirting with him.” Easy deal. I didn’t even know if I liked John. I did know I didn't completely trust him.

  We got ready to leave and told Killer to stay but he turned and looked at me with his mournful eyes, knowing I was planning to leave him. “We could take him along,” I said. “Get him out for a while.” I bent down and rubbed his ears and head.

  “What a sucker you are for him!” Digs laughed. “I guess we can. You have one spoiled, cowardly dog!” Killer
turned, gave him a reproachful look and hung his head. Digs laughed and then rubbed his head, too. Killer immediately turned over on his back to have his belly scratched. “Sorry, Killer! The truth hurts! But you are lovable, I'll give you that.” Digs was still scratching him.

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed what a tough guy you are with him......a real taskmaster.” I walked to the car and opened the back door. Killer jumped in before we could change our minds.

  We ran our errands and then headed out of the city. Evanston is a lovely suburb north of Chicago located on Lake Michigan. It is filled with gracious old homes and tree lined streets. It is also the home of the Northwestern University campus. We discussed the case as we drove up along the lake. The lake was frozen and it glistened in the bright sunlight. It was lovely.

  I told Digs I thought this was clearly the mob. I shuddered as I remembered Whip's hand over my mouth, the scarf choking my neck. I forced my thoughts away from that. “I understand the connection between the mob and Herbert and Corelli, but I don't see it between them and Lily. Or them and Casteletti. Or the connection between Louie and Lily. I turned to Digs.

  “Do you think somehow Louie figured out the body in the box could be Tony Corelli and that he and Herbert probably robbed Lefty back in ‘85? That Herbert then murdered Tony so he could have all the money?” I was thinking out loud as we went along.

  “Possible, I guess.” Digs said. “Maybe he thought, as we did, that Herbert hid the money in the house.”

  I shook my head. “But then why kill Lily? And then why was he killed?”

  “He didn’t kill Lily. The same person probably killed them both based on the matching bullets.” Digs mused. “But who else would have known?”

  “Do you think that Louie told someone else in the mob? Maybe Vito?” I asked.

  “That would make some sense,” Digs agreed. “Vito could then have ordered his henchman, Whip, to do some checking.”

  We got to the University and I pulled out John’s card. We parked the car and got out, Killer at my side. We found the right building. I left Killer with Digs and walked in. I found the directory and headed to the elevator. While I would like to have taken the stairs, my leg really wanted the elevator - at least for a couple more days.

  I walked out on the third floor and took a left. I saw his office name plate on a door and walked in. No one was in the front part of the office but I could see John in a small room behind it, sitting at his desk, working on the computer. I knocked.

  “Maggie!” John got up. “What a surprise. Please come in. Have you found out any more?”

  “No, I’m sorry. But I do have some more questions if you have a few minutes.”

  “Sure.” He leaned back. His office was cluttered in an orderly sort of way. Several bookcases were crammed with books and maps and there were more stacked on his desk, the chair – even the windowsill. I looked at a few of them. The maps were of all kinds of cities - historical, new, foreign, domestic, sepia and colorful. In all sizes and shapes. Framed prints covered the walls.

  His desk was old, medium sized and had several coffee cups on it. The trash can held Pepsi cans and empty potato chip wrappers. There was one - almost dead – plant on a corner of a bookcase. All in all, there was scarcely room for John.

  He laughed as he saw me look around. “Would it help if I told you I know where everything is?” He grinned. God. He was drop dead gorgeous. Really. Those sea blue eyes fringed with the thickest lashes – amazing. Wow.

  I grinned back. “No. I wouldn’t believe you.” I leaned forward. “I got the feeling the other night that you might know more than you wanted to say to all of us. Was I right?”

  John fiddled with a pencil on his desk. Finally, he sighed and looked up at me. “Yeah. Something was bothering Aunt Lily. I could tell. I don’t know what it was but there was something. I didn’t want to go into that in front of Emily. This has been hard enough on her.”

  I nodded. “I caught the tension between you two. What’s that all about?” I crossed my legs and leaned on his desk. “What is your relationship with her?”

  “We don’t really have one. She was about 10 years younger than I am and I never really got to know her much because of it. She was a really sweet kid – but just that. A kid. Then after her Mom died, I didn’t know how to relate to her.” He looked at me directly. “I’m not a relative of Aunt Lily’s, even though I called her my aunt and she treated me like family. It didn't matter when she was a kid, but I thought Emily seemed a little resentful of that when she got older.” He shrugged. “But that could have been because that was about the time she lost her Dad and she wanted to protect the family she had left.” He picked up his coffee cup.

  “Would you like some coffee?” He nodded to a small coffee maker on a side bookshelf. I hadn't noticed it before because it was hidden by a stack of books and maps.

  “I’d love some. Black, please.” He got a clean cup - I think - out of a file drawer and poured. He handed me the cup. It had pictures of dancing dogs on it. I laughed.

  “These look like my mutt, Killer.” I said.

  He perked up. “Really? I’d like to meet him. I love dogs. Where did you get him? What kind of mutt?”

  I shook my head. “He’s just a mutt. Part lab, maybe and lord knows what else. I found him one day last fall outside my apartment. He looked like he was starving so I fed him.....and the rest, as they say, is history. He’s a terrible coward but he’s mine and I love him.” I smiled.

  “Why do you say he’s a coward?” John fingered his cup.

  “Oh, maybe because he runs and hides in the bathtub when the phone rings, the doorbell rings, there’s a loud noise on TV.......almost anything. He heads for the bathtub. I think he’d pull the shower curtain closed if he could figure out how to do it!”

  “He might not like noise, but that doesn’t mean he’s a complete coward,” John laughed. “Maybe he’s just sensitive.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sensitive to anything that’s remotely threatening!” I put my cup down. “You said Emily changed after her Mom died. How did she die?”

  “It was really sad. Emily was in high school, freshman or sophomore. She came home from school one day and found her mom at the bottom of the basement stairs. Apparently she’d been taking a basket of clothes down to wash and tripped. She had a broken neck.”

  “Oh my God!” I was shocked. “No wonder finding Lily was so awful for her!” My heart went out to Emily.

  “And,” John continued, “her father was devastated. He had been

  a drinker for years but after Em’s mother died, he did nothing else. Just drank. I don't even think he saw Emily anymore.” John sighed. “About two years later he just went to sleep and didn't wake up. Emily was alone and I think she was scared something would happen to Aunt Lily, too.” John poured himself some more coffee and gestured to me. I shook my head.

  “She got very depressed after that. Quiet.” He paused.

  “So why didn’t you two get closer?” I asked.

  “I was about 24. I didn’t know how to comfort a teenager and I wasn’t very close to her before her parents died. And, as I said, I wasn’t family. She needed that – family.” He shook his head. “So I made it a point to try and visit Aunt Lily and Uncle Herbert when she wouldn’t be around.” He looked up. “She seemed to get through it. It was tough for her when Uncle Herbert died but not as bad. She was always much closer to Aunt Lily.”

  I wasn't sure I was buying this. Why would John try to paint Emily as someone so insecure? She had lost both parents, and she was a teenager, so of course she would have problems. He seemed a bit harsh about her.

  “Her boyfriend said that she and your aunt fought. Did you ever see that?”

  He frowned, then said, “No, not really. Aunt Lily was a very strong woman, and,” he added smiling, “certainly had her opinions on things.” He chuckled. “No, they spent a lot of time together. They'd have their disagreements but never anything serious.”

&nbs
p; I took a deep breath. “John,” looking at him directly, I said, “We think your Uncle Herbert was involved in the mob.” I looked at him directly. “We know he was.”

  John stared at me for a minute then got up and walked to the tiny window. “Yeah, he was.” When I was a kid I found out and thought it was really cool. I even wanted to work with him but.....” He stopped.

  I waited. “But....” I said after a minute.

  He turned and looked at me. “I’m like your dog,” he said. “Basically, a coward. I didn’t want to hurt anyone and I didn’t want to get hurt.” He sighed.

  “Did Uncle Herbert hurt people? Did he.......kill anyone?” I asked.

  John thought. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know,” he said slowly and turned to me again. “Why? Do you think he did?”

  I bit my lip. I wanted to answer this carefully. “We don’t know. It’s possible that he did.”

  John nodded. “The man those two kids found last summer?”

  I was surprised. “What makes you ask that?”

  John sat silent for a few moments, then stood and reached for his coat. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”

  “Sure,” I said and got my coat and purse. We walked to the stairs. “Do you mind if we take the elevator? I asked. “I hurt my knee the other day.” He looked at me rather oddly, but nodded.

  “If you don't want to walk, I understand.”

  “No, I want to exercise it. Just not on stairs.”

  We walked out of the building. Digs and Killer were there. I introduced John to Killer and watched as he scratched Killer's ears.

  “Ah, the Cowardly Killer! What a great name for him!” John laughed. He shook Digs’ hand and said it was good to see him again.

  We started walking. Digs and Killer walked with us. I moved slowly but my leg was feeling much better. It was a clear, sunny day with no wind. We have this brief thaw in Chicago that usually happens in January. When it does, I wonder why I ever thought winter was so hard .......until the thaw ends. When the wind starts back up, the snow falls and the temperatures plummet into the single digits or minus temps, I remember exactly and specifically why I hate winter.