by Lee Harris
“You mean the guy we pay rent to?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if the landlord exists, but I send the rent to a box number. Wait a minute.” He opened a drawer on the right-hand side of the desk and rummaged around. “E. Bolton Associates. That’s who I make the check out to. But it’s a box number. I don’t guess he lives in that box.”
“Probably not. Can I have the whole address?” I copied it down. “Do you remember the last time you saw this man or woman?”
“No idea. They owe you money or something?”
“Not exactly. They’re inheriting and I have to check them out.”
The man laughed loudly. “That’s the oldest trick in the book, telling a guy he’s got money coming so he’ll give you his address and you can figure out his assets.”
“In this case it happens to be true,” I said, a little miffed at having been tarred with that particular brush.
“Well, good luck. I ever see them, I’ll tell them you were lookin’.”
I didn’t think there was much chance of that, but I said, “Thanks,” and went back downstairs. I stood on the street trying to think. They had an office and a telephone and an answering machine. Was there anything else behind that locked door? I had the image of a phone on the floor and an answering machine next to it. Was it possible?
Maybe I knew someone who could tell me.
27
The garage had a pay phone and I called my old friend Arnold Gold, the lawyer.
“Chris, you’re back from Israel.”
“I’m back and I’m at a pay phone and I don’t have much change. Can I ask you a question and I’ll talk to you from home?”
“Fire away.”
“I’m trying to check up on a charity called Double Eagle. How can I find out the names of the principals? I’ve just been to the office and it’s locked. I’ve called a couple of times and they answer with a machine.”
“OK. Someone here worked for the Department of State where the charities register. Don’t you guys have a computer yet?”
“The short answer is no. The longer answer is Jack’s getting one any day now.”
“You can find these things out when you get it, but I’ll have an answer this afternoon and I’ll leave it on your machine.”
“Thanks, Arnold.”
“We haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“Maybe this weekend.”
“Sounds good.”
The phone gave a warning click and we said our quick farewells. I paid for the car and headed home. When I got there, eventually, there was a message from Arnold on the machine. I called him back.
“Hello, Chris,” he said jubilantly. “My right hand here has found your duly accredited charity, Double Eagle, on the Internet. The person who runs it is named Gary Helfer and the address is on Tenth Avenue in the big city, as you apparently know. I have no other information on him, but it looks as though he’s in good stead. The purpose of the charity is to aid victims of Tay-Sachs disease. You know about that?”
“I’ve heard of it. It attacks children of a very narrow ethnic and geographical area.”
“You are right on. It’s Jewish children from Eastern Europe. If both parents carry the gene, there’s a high probability the child will be born with it. Generally, these poor kids live only about three years and they’re not very happy years.”
I felt a chill pass through me. “It sounds like they do something good, but tell me, isn’t there an organization to sponsor research for this disease?”
“I’m sure there is. These folks give assistance to the families.”
“Is there a record of their having given such assistance?”
“There is. Not a lot of it, but I don’t have the books in front of me.”
“How long have they been around, Arnold?”
“Let’s see. I think she’s got it here. Yes. About three years.”
“Three years.”
“Are you in a position to tell me what you need this information for? Do I smell a homicide in your life?”
“A very sad one, Arnold. You know my friend Mel?”
“We’ve met. I think you told me you were going to be in Israel at the same time she was. ‘A happy coincidence,’ you said.”
That sounded like me. I explained quickly what had happened, what we had learned, and where I now found myself, looking into beneficiaries to see if I could find a discrepancy in their claims or some hint of wrongdoing.
“This looks pretty clean,” Arnold said after commenting at some length on the homicide.
“The office building is so shabby.”
“Maybe that means they’re spending very little on administration and a lot on real charity. A lot of organizations don’t, you know.”
“I’ve heard. The problem is they don’t seem to be there. The man down the hall barely knows who they are.”
“Maybe they come in to pick up the mail and write the occasional check.”
“It bothers me.”
“I know you want me to say they look dirty and maybe you’ve found what you’re looking for, but I can’t. Ask Jack to look up this guy Helfer. Maybe he’ll find something.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks, Arnold.”
“And the invitation for this weekend is solid. I called Harriet and she said you should come.”
“I’ll have an answer for you after I see Jack tonight.”
“Make it a good one.”
I laughed. I was sure Jack would say yes. Jack and Arnold had become increasingly close as Jack finished law school, took the bar exams, and started to do legal work for NYPD. I think of Arnold as my surrogate father, but he’s been almost that to Jack in some important ways.
I gave Jack the name of the supposed administrator of the charity that evening, and he promised to check up on it the next day. Wednesday was my teaching morning, so I didn’t have much time for anything else. My students all appeared rather glad to have me back, and I wondered if my replacement had run a tighter ship than I, but I wasn’t about to ask.
We had a good class, which started a bit late, as they seemed really interested in my trip, or perhaps they thought the delay was in their best interests. When you teach, you can’t help thinking such things. We were coming to the end of the fall semester, and we spent most of the class reviewing the books we had read and analyzed since September. At the end of the class, several students came to ask my advice on the term paper I had assigned, and I stayed on to talk to them. When we were all done, I had my usual good lunch at the college cafeteria and bought an apple pie, still warm and smelling temptingly of cinnamon, to take home for the rest of the family.
I found a message on the machine for me to call Jack, and I did rather eagerly, hoping he had some information on Gary Helfer.
“Hit pay dirt,” Jack said.
“He’s got a record?”
“Yup. Small-time stuff, but running a fake charity looks to be just up his alley. I tried the phone number you gave me and got the answering machine again. Guess he doesn’t spend much time in his office. But I’ve got a home address for you.”
“That’s great.” I reached for a pencil and the back of a used envelope. “OK.”
“You can’t go alone, Chris. I’m really nervous about this guy. He could be the killer. Either I’ll go with you or I’ll get someone on the job to go. And I’ve got something else here. What was the name of that old guy you talked to a couple of times?”
“Simon Kaplan.”
“He’s on the board of directors.”
“Simon Kaplan knows Gary Helfer?” I felt a little dizzy. “He told me he was a friend of Gabe Gross.”
“People have been known to lie, dear wife.”
“That’s some lie. He’s one of the bad guys, not one of the good ones.”
“Could be. But remember, you haven’t established anything yet.”
“No, but when something like this happens, I get a good feeling that things are coming togethe
r.”
“Exactly why I don’t want you going to Helfer’s house alone. I’ll bring everything I have home for you to look at.”
“Jack, there has to be a connection between this Gary Helfer and Marnie Gross. I think she’s sorry she told me what she did—”
“What you didn’t tell me.”
“Right. And she’s left town. Or so her housekeeper says.”
“Interesting. Why don’t you ask Hal what Marnie’s maiden name is?”
“Just what I was thinking.”
I couldn’t do it right now because Mel was teaching and she wouldn’t come home for a couple of hours. So I sat down and corrected the exercises my class had turned in and worked out my lesson plan for next week. By that time everyone was coming home from school and I had cleared my desk.
“Good question,” Mel said. We had walked over to her house. “Mind if I ask you why you want to know?”
“A name has come up and I want to know if there’s a connection to Marnie.”
Mel looked distressed. “Marnie’s OK, Chris. Really.”
“I didn’t say she was involved. Do you know her maiden name?”
“I think it was something like Gilbert. Yeah. That sounds right.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll ask Hal when he comes home. He’ll remember. But I remember meeting her the first time and Gabe called her Marnie Gilbert. Is that good or bad?”
I laughed. “Bad, actually. I was hoping for something else, but let’s see what Hal says.”
We left it at that and talked about other things till it was time for both of us to get dinner ready. In the evening, I looked at the material Jack had brought home. There, in black and white, was the name Simon Kaplan. Simon Kaplan was or had been a diamond dealer, and diamonds had been found in Marnie’s safe. Had she lied to me about knowing him? Was it possible she was in on the murder of her husband? I hoped not. It wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to discover.
Hal called about nine o’clock. “You wanted Marnie’s maiden name?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know it. Gilbert was her married name.”
“She was married before Gabe?”
“Definitely. Tell you what. I’ll research it for you tomorrow. I know where she was married and I can find out. In order to get married in New York State when you’ve been married before, you have to show proof that you’re divorced or that the marriage was annulled.”
“So her maiden name should be on the record.”
“Should be. I’ll find out tomorrow.”
28
I was actually fidgety the next morning, waiting to hear from Hal. I kept turning over in my mind what I would do if he said Marnie’s name was Smith and what I would do if it was Helfer. Of course, even if it turned out to be Smith or Jones or a thousand other names, that didn’t rule out a relationship between her and Gary Helfer, blood or otherwise. The “otherwise” type of relationship could be just as strong. Lots of people have committed heinous acts for people they loved and to people they hated with no blood or legal relationship between them.
The call came finally after I had had my traditional lunch of tuna salad on a nice roll with a glass of tomato juice and the New York Times alongside my plate, rather wishing my lunch was hummus and pita bread and fresh tomatoes.
“Chris,” Hal said, “I’ve got an answer to your question.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“Marnie Gilbert’s maiden name was Helfer.” He spelled it out.
“Hal, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Did I hit the jackpot?”
“You sure did. It’s the name I was looking for.”
“You’re not telling me Marnie was involved in Gabe’s death.”
“I don’t know. But someone she knows may have been.”
He whistled. “That’s a shock.”
“We should know pretty soon. Thanks again.”
I got back to Jack.
“No kidding,” he said. “You got a match.”
“It must be her brother, or maybe a cousin.”
“OK. This guy lives at a Manhattan address. I’d guess it’s an apartment. When do you want to go there?”
“What do you think, day or evening?”
“I guess evening’s better. He may work during the day.”
“Is that a joke?” I asked.
“In this case, it probably is. Let’s see what I can work out for tonight.”
I thought it best not to tell Mel what I had learned. Late in the afternoon, Jack called and asked me to see if Elsie could come over and baby-sit, so I knew he wanted to join me. I also knew he would alert the Manhattan detective squad in Gary Helfer’s precinct and at least one detective would surely accompany me to the apartment. And Jack had probably called the Special Frauds Squad to alert them about a possible charity scam, which would add another detective. I hoped it wouldn’t be overkill.
I got together a quick dinner and told Eddie that Elsie would be staying with him for a while tonight.
“Can I come with you?” he asked.
“We won’t be back till late, honey. You’ll get very tired.”
“Can I come next time?”
I rumpled his hair. “We’ll see when next time comes.”
Jack got home a little early, and we sat down to eat right away. When we were done, Jack took care of the dishes while I dashed upstairs to give Eddie his bath. Elsie showed up right on time and I put some lipstick on, gave Elsie a hug and Eddie a kiss, and Jack and I drove into New York.
Helfer’s apartment was off Park Avenue in the low Nineties, the Two-Three, and we had some trouble finding a place to park. The streets were lined with cars, but we found a garage about a block away. Helfer’s building was old, built before people realized that cars came with tenants, before garages were mandated in new construction. Although it was old, it was beautifully kept, the lobby refurbished, the doorman in a spanking uniform. The elevators were obviously new and moved silently and swiftly.
Two Manhattan detectives, one from the Twenty-third Precinct, one from Special Frauds, were waiting for us outside the building when we got there, their car discreetly parked elsewhere. Their names were Monaco and Flowers and they remained downstairs while we went up, in order to be certain the doorman did not announce that the police were coming. They said they would follow us up and remain outside the apartment till they were called.
I rang the bell and waited till an eye appeared at the peephole and a woman asked who was there. I gave her my name, and she opened the door. The doorman had said there was no Mrs. Helfer but that a woman was often in the apartment. Doormen know everything.
She opened the door and I asked to see Gary Helfer.
“He’ll be back in about five minutes. Can I ask what this is about?”
“About the Double Eagle charity.”
“Come in.” She was younger than I, in her late twenties, I thought, and quite good-looking. She was wearing the kind of clothes I don’t even dream about wearing, a silk pants outfit in fiery shades of orange with a golden scarf that must have been light as a feather, the way it moved when she did.
I stepped inside, leaving Jack in the hall. “Thank you. I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all. If it’s the charity you’re interested in, there’s someone here who can talk to you.”
“Oh?” I wondered if I had understood her correctly.
“Just a moment and I’ll get her.” She left the room and I remained standing, feeling a bit confused. The living room I was in had a beautiful floor that looked new and well polished. The furniture was striking, fine woods, and the area rugs seemed too good to step on. I started wondering where the money had come from.
“Here she is.”
I turned and stood face-to-face with Judy Silverman, Gabe Gross’s daughter.
“Chris,” she said, as shocked as I was. She looked a little frightened, as though she wanted to get out while she still could.
<
br /> “Judy. You’re part of Double Eagle?”
“It’s—yes, it’s a charity. I give a lot of time to it.”
The silk-clad woman looked confused. “You know each other?”
“We’ve met,” both Judy and I said almost in unison.
I went to the door and opened it. Jack was right there. “He’s not here. He’s supposed to be coming back any minute. I’m surprised the doorman didn’t say anything.”
“Maybe he took a break.” Jack came inside.
“This is Judy Silverman, Jack,” I said. “Gabe’s daughter.”
Jack nodded. “Ms. Silverman, I’m Lieutenant John Brooks, NYPD.”
Judy’s face paled. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was shaking.
“We want to talk to you and Mr. Helfer.”
“About what?”
“About the charity, Double Eagle, and a few other things.”
“What other things?” Judy asked, her voice hard.
At that moment I realized the other woman had left the room. “Jack, his girlfriend may be warning him.”
Jack opened the door and spoke to the detectives who were standing in the hall. They moved quickly toward the elevators. Then Jack came back in. “Where is she?” he asked Judy.
She shrugged.
“Where did Helfer go?”
“For a run. He’s bringing back something to eat.”
There was a buzz and Jack said, “Is that the doorman calling?”
“Maybe,” Judy said.
Jack found the kitchen and picked up the intercom. “OK, thanks,” I heard him say. He came back. “He dropped a bag of Chinese take-out on the lobby floor and ran. The cops took off after him.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Judy said.
“You’ll understand soon,” Jack said.
About five minutes later the detectives rang the doorbell and came inside with a man in running clothes. There was no Chinese food to be seen.
“What the hell is this all about?” Helfer said angrily as the detectives released him.
“Sit down and let’s talk,” Jack said.
“I want my lawyer.”
“You haven’t been charged with anything.”
“I don’t give a damn. I’m not talking without my lawyer.”
