A Darker Shade of Blood

by Lawrence J Epstein

  “Sure. We get a lot of people who find our warm store fascinating in the winter.”

  He was smiling.

  “If you need anything, let me know. My name is Fred, and I’m here to help.”

  “Thank you, Fred. You’ve been very kind.”

  The store felt as though it was a brief refuge. I felt I had gone through an escape hatch and had left the confusion outside. And then the siren of reality rang, and I realized I had to go back to my life.

  I said good-bye to Fred and headed home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Congressman-elect Ken Lucey looked pale enough for me to ask if he needed to see a doctor.

  “I’m all right. I’m trying to set up the District Office. Your former boss has been very cooperative. We’re trying to make sure that people with problems won’t be forgotten. I’ve made some hires. I’m going to use the same office in Port Jeff that you used, but I also want one on the South Shore. They feel forgotten.”

  “Get an office in Patchogue. I like the downtown area.”

  “So do I. There’s a banker there who helped with the campaign. He knows a guy who owns a storefront right on Main Street. It will be perfect.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m going to a party now, Danny, and I want you to go with me.”

  “All right. Who’s the party for?”

  “Mack Winthrop.”

  “The car guy?”

  “That’s some name for a man who owns five huge dealerships and who is interested in my career.”

  “What does he want?”

  “You’re funny, Danny.”

  “What does he want?” I repeated.

  “He wants to be an Ambassador to some European country.”

  “And he wants you to be his ticket.”

  “I get something out of this, too, don’t I? You’ve been yelling at me to raise money.”

  “You’re right. He’ll be a bundler. He’ll call all his friends and they’ll donate the maximum but give him the checks. You get a couple of dozen bundlers and you’ll be all right.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I know I’ve been talking and talking to you about fundraising. The problem is I hate doing it.”

  “Nevertheless, we’re off to the Neighborhood House in Setauket to attend Mack’s party and then to meet with him privately.”

  I wanted to set a rule that I would help Ken Lucey in any way I could except when it came to raising money, but he needed it now. He needed to get his mind off his wife’s trial. He needed to feel as though he was really going to succeed in Congress.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  The Setauket Neighborhood House was around the corner from the Emma Clark Library. It was technically on Main Street in East Setauket, but the town and neighborhood names always seemed confusing to me. There was a beautiful lake across from the House. Sometimes I went there to look at the swans gliding around as though they controlled all around them. Unfortunately, the traffic in the street spoiled the view as I stood on the porch and looked out.

  We walked into the entry parlor. The place was crowded. Everyone had on a suit that screamed “I’m wealthy.” I wanted to go home and change.

  Mack and his closest friends were in the large Ballroom. There were tables and chairs set up, and some people were seated. Mack wasn’t. He was walking around, a drink of punch in his left hand, and his right hand free to shake hands. He was reasonably good at getting out of a conversation and moving on to the next person.

  The Congressman-elect was standing back.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but your days of comfortably staying in the back of the room are now gone. You’re wasting time talking to me. Go out there and shake as many hands as you can. You’re not leaving here in fact until you’ve met everyone.”

  “They’re going to ask me about Marilyn Park.”

  “Maybe. Just tell them your lawyer won’t let you talk about it. Say you’d rather talk about Long Island’s beautiful homes.”

  He shook his head.

  “Welcome to Congress.”

  “Great.”

  I noticed Mack Winthrop looking at the Congressman-elect and me. Just as Ken Lucey started going around, I was surprised that Winthrop walked over to me.

  “Your name is Ryle, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Danny Ryle. I understand you were very generous with the Congressman-elect.”

  “He’s a good man. You know what a good politician is?”

  “Someone who listens well and then acts right.”

  Winthrop was silent for a second and then burst out laughing.

  “I heard Lucey listens to you. One guy said you were his brains. Now I believe it.”

  “I’m just a staff person, Mr. Winthrop.”

  “Say, I’m going to be at the dealership in Riverhead on Monday. Come on in and pick out a car.”

  “I’m fine with my old car, sir. I don’t want to buy a new one.”

  “No, no. You don’t get it. I want to give you a car.”

  “I appreciate it, sir. But I don’t take gifts.”

  “Come on. A seat behind home plate at Yankee Stadium? A nice meal and a show in New York?”

  I hated to confess it to him, but I said, “Sometimes I have. I’m trying to stop before the laws catch up to what everyone does.”

  “If I need something from Kenny, can I call you?”

  “Of course, sir. You understand I can’t promise. But I can bring your request to him.”

  “You know I’m paying for his two district offices.”

  “I’m sure Congressman-elect Lucey really appreciates your generosity.”

  “He’d better.”

  Another laugh.

  “So how much does he need before March 31st?”

  “As much as possible.”

  “I could give him a hundred thousand.”

  “That would get us all into trouble, Mr. Winthrop. The FEC has strict limits on personal contributions.”

  “I know. But what the FEC doesn’t know won’t hurt anyone. I mean it’s the Federal Election Commission. They’re not the Supreme Court. I’ll get a nice big briefcase filled with money to you. Keep it in the office for personal needs.”

  “Mr. Winthrop, I don’t mean this in an ungrateful way. Don’t give us any cash or checks beyond the limits. We won’t accept it whether or not the FEC knows about it.”

  “I thought you were a smart kid. He’s going to look like a loser if he doesn’t play the game right. Maybe I should tell him to fire you.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I don’t think you’re cut out for politics. I would have thought you would have learned a thing or two from your father.”

  “I learned more than a thing or two from my father.”

  Winthrop turned around and walked away. I guess to try to influence someone else.

  I wandered around. I knew some of the people from the election campaign, although I had been on the other side. They were surprised to see me, some of them not in a happy way.

  I finally caught up with Ken Lucey.

  “By my calculation about ten people are going to suggest you fire me. Mack Winthrop may insist on it.”

  “As long as I have a job, Danny, so will you.”

  “Sadly, that’s not really great job security.”

  Trigger O’Dell, the party chair in Suffolk, looked happily drunk although there was no liquor being served. He came over to us.

  “Ken, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, Trigger.”

  “I want to talk. Come with me to that corner over there.” He pointed.

  Lucey signaled that he wanted me to follow. I assumed he thought he needed a witness.

  “I want to speak with you alone, Ken.”

  “You want to speak with me, Trigger, then Danny stays. It’s up to you if we talk or Danny and I walk away.”

  Trigger was not happy.

  “People are talking,” he said.

&
nbsp; “People are always talking, Trigger. That’s what they do.”

  “They’re not happy with you. This is the kind of place where we do favors for each other. We give jobs. We buy raffle tickets. We fix parking tickets. We do what people ask.” He paused. “But that’s not the real problem, Ken.”

  “What is?”

  “The real problem is people are saying you may not have been the right person for office. You didn’t win by much. You’re not known for being a good fundraiser. Your mother helped with the election. We all know that. And the trial, Ken. It doesn’t look good. I mean on top of the other complaints. Did Katie kill the girl?”

  “I’m sure she didn’t. We’re looking for the real killer now.”

  Trigger nodded. There was a serious face pushing out through his drunken red face.

  “I’ve always liked Katie. You know that. If she gets off, all is forgiven. But you’d better watch yourself. Make friends. Mack Winthrop has already spoken to me. You’re not even officially sworn into office and he’s angry at you.” He pointed to me. “And him.”

  “Everyone’s angry at me,” I said.

  “That’s nothing to brag about.”

  I thought it was, but I remained quiet.

  Trigger walked away.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Lucey said to me.

  “Have you shaken everyone’s hand?”

  “No.”

  “Shake away, sir. Then we leave.”

  And so he walked back into the center of the Ballroom.

  I got home late.

  I sat on the couch in the living room and listened to the radio, an oldies station. Jane Morgan was singing “Fascination” and I felt some calm.

  Betsy must have heard the music because she came downstairs.

  She sat next to me. Bing Crosby started singing about how he didn’t want to be fenced in.

  I spoke to the radio. “Tell me about it, Bing.”

  Betsy ignored me. “Oh, Danny, I found out where George Moss is living. You want to go there in the morning?”

  She had a big grin.

  “You’re a very nasty researcher,” I said. “Holding out on me.”

  “Doesn’t my finding out get me a kiss?”

  I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  She just stared at me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I was up very early, too early to go see George Moss. I tried staying in bed. When I got uneasy, I decided to go out for a drive and ended up getting some hot chocolate and a doughnut. Gypsy Davy was sitting in his wheelchair in the usual place outside.

  “It’s getting cold, Dave.”

  “I like the punishment, although in a few weeks I won’t like it so much.”

  After I ate, I brought him the usual egg and cheese and coffee but I threw in another couple of warm muffins in a bag. I put a twenty dollar bill in the bag. I never found out about Gypsy Davy’s family or why they didn’t care for him.

  I got back home. Ari was still sleeping, but Betsy was up doing some exercises in front of the television.

  “Where have you been?” Betsy asked.

  “Doughnut and hot chocolate. The temperature is starting to drop.”

  “It will warm up.”

  Ari came downstairs. He and Betsy ate breakfast, but I skipped it.

  Betsy had gone to Moss’ old junior high school. She was a good natural observer, and she had learned a lot while she was a police officer. I thought her plan was interesting even if it was a long shot. We knew Moss had to get away quickly. We knew he didn’t have much money. He wouldn’t take a chance using a credit card because he would too easily be tracked. Betsy decided he would contact an old friend. She was at the school before any of the faculty arrived. She saw a few men around Moss’ age. One had a bumper sticker about his daughter. Betsy ruled him out. The friend she was looking for would have no wife and no children. She found another one, but she decided he was too well-dressed. The man she wanted wouldn’t care too much about his clothes. She knew she was imagining a target, but he was real in her mind.

  One man who drove up stood out. He looked older than Moss. He dressed off-the-rack with a shirt that looked as though it had been worn for a few days. She took down the license plate. Then she called a contact at Motor Vehicles. It would be expensive to check with no real evidence, so she knew she was wasting money, but she also knew that we had no real clues about how to find Moss.

  She got a name and an address.

  She drove to the address.

  If Moss was there, he wouldn’t come out or answer the door. She was stumped, so she came home to talk to us.

  “We could just walk in,” Ari said.

  “Call and see if there’s an answering machine in the house,” I said. “But if you get it, don’t leave a message.”

  Betsy made the call and told me there was a machine.

  “Okay,” I said. “He won’t come out. And Betsy is right. He won’t answer the door or pick up the phone. But he will hear a message on the machine. Ari you go over to the house. I’ll give you a half hour just to be sure. Hide someplace in a bush or porch near the front door and get ready to grab him.”

  Betsy and I waited. We gave Ari five extra minutes and then I called.

  “Hello, this is Councilman James Lennig. This is a message for people who live on Allenby Street in Lake Grove. I have to let you know that unfortunately there is a report of several escaped animals that have been seen in the back yards of houses on Allenby Street. Two of the animals have gotten into houses. Please leave your house by the front door immediately and walk east to Hitchcock Street. We have safety patrols waiting there to make sure your home is safe. Thank you.”

  “I don’t know,” Betsy said. “I’m not sure if I’d leave.”

  “Let’s drive over there and find out.”

  It didn’t take long and we were in front of the house. All was quiet.

  “What’s going on?” Betsy asked.

  “I have no idea. Let’s knock on the front door.”

  We did.

  Ari opened the door, smiled, and signaled that we should walk inside.

  George Moss was tied to a chair. There was some kind of kerchief in his mouth.

  “You’re very efficient Ari,” I said.

  “Mr. Moss is a little easier than a terrorist.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  I sat down next to George Moss.

  “We’re not the police or any law enforcement agency. We have no desire to hurt you or to rob you. We want some information only. If you give us this information, not only can you leave but you can safely return to your family. I’m going to remove the gag. If you yell, I will replace the gag and we will move you to a much less comfortable place to ask you questions. You’ll be put in the trunk of my car. You won’t like it. You won’t like where we’re taking you. You won’t like how my friend asks questions. Do you understand me?”

  George Moss nodded. He looked over at Ari. He was scared, as any normal human being would be.

  I took off the gag.

  “I need some water,” Moss said. His voice cracked.

  Betsy went to get him the water. I waited until she returned, and he drank.

  “What’s your name?”

  “George Moss.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “I’m retired.”

  “What’s your wife’s address?”

  He hesitated and then realized we already knew it, so he answered.

  “Do you know a woman named Marilyn Park?”

  “Yeah. I read about her in Newsday. She’s dead.”

  “Yes she is.”

  “Did he do it?” Moss tilted his head toward Ari.

  “No.”

  I waited a couple of seconds while he considered that.

  “Tell me, Mr. Moss, did you know Marilyn Park before she died?”

  A long pause. He was scared we already knew the answer.

  “Yes.”

  �
��How did you know her?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “I understand your reluctance, Mr. Moss. Unfortunately silence is not an option. I’m going to ask you one final time. How did you know Marilyn Park?”

  “We shared a bed several times.”

  “That’s very delicate of you. Did you pay her to share your bed?”

  “I....yes. It wasn’t really a bed. We met after hours in a bank parking lot. Our bed was her back seat.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Moss.”

  He didn’t look happy. He knew where I was going.

  “Did Miss Park contact you to ask for additional money?”

  “Did she try to blackmail me? Yes she did.”

  “And did you pay her?”

  “She had a tape. She hid a tape recorder under the back seat and she taped us. She had asked me about my wife. I said some bad things. I was trying to impress Miss Park, you see. I couldn’t let that tape become public. Of course I paid her.”

  “You’re doing very well, Mr. Moss. Let me switch subjects for a moment. Do you know Congressman-elect Kenneth Lucey?”

  “I know about him. A little anyway. I know he just got elected. I even voted for him. But I never met him.”

  “How about his wife? Did you ever meet her?”

  “No.” A pause. “I don’t understand your questions.”

  “Just keep answering them. Do you know where Congressman-elect Lucey lives?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you know where his vacation home is?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “When was the last time you saw Marilyn Park?”

  “When I paid her. It was two days after Election Day as a matter of fact.”

  “Did you know if Marilyn Park was blackmailing anyone else?”

  “She told me she was getting money from one other guy. She said she didn’t like to get money that way, but she was desperate. She said the other guy had money. Is this Congressman Lucey the other guy?”

  “No. He’s the one Park turned to for help. The other guy was a plumber on the East End.”

  “Oh.”

  I told him the date Marilyn Park was killed and asked him where he was.

  “I don’t remember. I always keep my calendar book though. It’s a habit from my school work.”

  “Where is your calendar book?”