Death of the Swami Schwartz (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 2) (18 page)

Forty-One

They’d passed through
Deerfield Beach before Kate mustered the courage to put Marlene’s plan into action. “Nick, I’m really tired. Could you please drop me off first?”

“Didn’t you hear me tell Mary Frances to go straight to Ocean Vista? I’m going to stay overnight at my godfather’s. We’ll come by and pick up his car tomorrow.”

How easy was that? Kate felt a twinge of guilt, but it vanished under an avalanche of anxiety. She and Marlene would never get past Life Preserver’s armed guard that easily. Unless…they had a decoy. Something
to distract him. What? Maybe a damsel in distress? Did she dare ask Mary Frances? She certainly could play the role to perfection. But would the former nun agree to take part in an illegal search? Since they had a key, their caper wouldn’t really be considered breaking and entering, would it? Though she tried to swallow it, a nervous giggle escaped.

“Having a good time back there all by yourself, Kate? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were up to something.” No laughter in Nick’s voice.

To distract him, she went on the offensive. “What about Dallas Dalton? Did you ever find out why she walked out of the restaurant just before Swami was poisoned?”

It was Danny who answered.

“Dallas went out the front door, then returned through the back door and popped into the ladies’ room, right? It’s her Saturday night ritual, Kate. Kinda like going to Mass on a Sunday.”

“A ritual?”

“Yeah. See, her horse, Thistle, died on a Saturday night at nine o’clock. So every Saturday at nine p.m.
,
wherever she is, Dallas goes outside to bay at the moon or some such damn fool thing. She told me Thistle was a Scorpio rising, whatever the hell that means.”

Knowing Dallas, the truly weird ritual somehow made perfect sense. And Kate had pretty much eliminated her as a suspect anyway.

Mary Frances stood in front of the lobby door. She’d beaten them to Ocean Vista and must have put Danny’s car in a guest parking spot.

As Kate hopped out of the backseat, Nick leaned across Danny and said, “Please, no more detective work tonight, Kate. I’ll call you in the morning.”

A strange black SUV pulled up behind them.

“Of course I’m
in. Justice must be served. Harry Archer should be punished. What do you want me to do?” Mary Frances sounded eager and appeared unflappable. Kate bet she’d allowed her students to get away with murder.

“Okay,” Marlene said, “bold as brass, you drive my old Caddy convertible right up to Life Preserver’s door. Use your considerable charm to get the guard to help you. Tell him you’re lost.”

“Why would I be in an industrial park this late on a Sunday night?”

Dallas baying at the moon came to mind, but Kate said, “You took a wrong turn, you’ve been going around in circles, you’re hopelessly lost. Get him to drive you back to the gate.”

“Kate and I will be parked a few warehouses away. When you and the guard drive off, we should have more than enough time to find out which key opens the door.”

“Then what?” Mary Frances sounded dubious.

Kate said, “He’ll have to walk back. That’s about six city blocks, I’d say. We’ll be inside by then.” She hoped. “You drive east, park a few feet away from the gate, turn off the engine, and wait for us. We’ll ditch the SUV and ride home with you.”

“Won’t the guard notice that Life Preserver’s lights are on?” Mary Frances asked.

Marlene pulled a small flashlight out of the SUV’s glove compartment. “Courtesy of Harry Archer, we’re prepared.”

The moon was
way too bright for sneaking around. Marlene and Kate huddled on the far side of a home furnishings warehouse three buildings removed from Life Preserver, peeking around its corner. They’d parked the SUV with the company’s vans behind the warehouse.

“Okay, let’s move out.” Marlene pointed as her Caddy passed by, the guard at the wheel.

They were at Life Preserver’s door in less than thirty seconds.

Yanking the key ring out of her pocket, Marlene sighed. “Did you ever see so many bloody keys?”

“Does this help?” Kate focused the flashlight on the key ring.

“Yes, hold it steady.” Marlene tried one, two, three, four keys, struggling but failing to get any of them to fit into Life Preservers two locks.

“Complicated. Damn.” She tried a large silver-tone key, “Bingo. One to go.”

How much time had elapsed? Kate’s heart raced. “Hurry!”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

She inserted a small oddly shaped key and the second lock opened.

They stepped into a pitch-black room. Behind them, the heavy door closed with a thud. Kate prayed the guard hadn’t returned yet.

Marlene shone the flashlight rapidly around the room. An attractive reception area with dark drapes on the windows. Two doors were dead ahead.

“The lady or the tiger?” Marlene asked.

“I choose door number one.”

“You sound like a contestant on a game show.” On the sixth key, the steel door opened. A strange aroma greeted them. The room was icy cold.

“Keep the light on the floor.” Kate was feeling her way along a steel wall.

“No one can see us in here.” Marlene voice trembled. “I found a switch.”

Light filled the room. They were in a high-tech lab: cold, sterile, terrifying. Suspended from the ceiling directly ahead of Kate, a rectangular cylinder, sort of a cross between a glass-paneled coffin and a steel curio cabinet, swayed. Inside, close enough to touch, was the frozen, nude body of Swami Schwartz. His head seemed to defy gravity and float in front of her face. She screamed.

Marlene dropped the flashlight. It rolled across the marble floor.

Jack Gallagher stepped out from behind an empty cylinder enormous enough to hold a dead horse. Kate saw madness in his blue eyes.

Trembling, he pointed a gun at her. “You’re trespassing on sacred ground,” he shouted. “I’m calling the police.” Not exactly what Kate had expected.

Epilogue

Dr. Jack Gallagher
was guilty of many things, but not murder.

Swami Schwartz, fanatically eager to go down in history as the first cryogenically frozen body to be brought back to life, and diagnosed with a fast-spreading brain tumor, committed suicide with a little help from his friend.

They timed Swami’s suicide to coincide with Palmetto Beach Medical Examiner Horatio Harmon’s vacation, so the good doctor could jump in and perform his friend’s autopsy. He had no fear of inhaling secondhand cyanide, knowing that Magnolia McFee always carried a mask.

When Swami’s body had arrived at the medical center late on Friday night, Gallagher, with henchman Harry, whisked Swami—now the doctor’s “patient”—out of the hospital morgue and off to Life Preserver to administer vitrification and cool-down. On Saturday, Gallagher falsified the autopsy reports, using research animal tissue. On Sunday, a John Doe, who’d died of natural causes at the medical center, went to the crematorium and his ashes were placed in “Swami’s” memorial urn.

Gallagher had planted the cyanide bottles in the azalea bushes to frame Laurence, hoping Magnolia, who’d reserved prime cold-storage space, would then leave her many millions to Life Preserver.

Monday morning, the
doctor faced numerous criminal charges ranging from operating without a mortuary license, to tampering with a police investigation, to medical malpractice.

Harry was arrested as Gallagher’s accomplice and co-conspirator and agreed, after a conversation with Nick Carbone, to drop his grand theft auto charge against Marlene.

Monday afternoon, Dallas met Thistle’s van and, at great expense, shipped him back to Arizona. She and Laurence would move there too, just as soon as Dallas could buy her way out of Ocean Vista. Magnolia planned on dissolving the Lazarus Society and, in what might turn out to be the world’s weirdest extended family, would be living with her grandson and Dallas.

In a history-making decision, a Broward County judge granted Sanjay permission to transport Swami Schwartz’s frozen remains to the Arizona cryogenics facility.

Monday night at Mancini’s Restaurant, Danny, looking great, poured the finest champagne in the house. Dallas, Laurence, Magnolia, Tiffani, and Sanjay, along with Mary Frances, Kate, and Nick hoisted their flutes to toast Swami.

Marlene raised the martini she’d ordered straight-up. On ice was not an option.

About the Author

Noreen Wald lives in downtown Sarasota, Florida with her husband, Steve. Their sons visit often. Hey, surf and sun are great lures. She has served terms as a local chapter president for Mystery Writers of America, as well as Executive VP and Secretary for their National Board of Directors. A winning contestant on seven television game shows—including Jeopardy!—Noreen later worked for Goodson-Todman and Merv Griffin Productions. She’s lectured at the Smithsonian, the CIA , the National Press Club and aboard the QE II. Her Ghostwriter Series was a Mystery Guild selection and praised in
The New York Daily News, The Sun-Sentinel
, and hit #1 on
The Dallas Morning News
bestseller list.

The Kate Kennedy Mystery Series

By Noreen Wald

DEATH WITH AN OCEAN VIEW (#1)

DEATH OF THE SWAMI SCHWARTZ (#2)

DEATH IS A BARGAIN (#3)

DEATH STORMS THE SHORE (#4)

DEATH RIDES THE SURF (#5)

Available at booksellers nationwide and online

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And finally, before you go...

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GHOSTWRITER ANONYMOUS

Noreen Wald

A Jake O’Hara Mystery (#1)

With her books sporting other people’s names, ghostwriter Jake O’Hara works behind the scenes. But she never expected a séance at a New York apartment to be part of her job. Jake had signed on as a ghostwriter, secretly writing for a grande dame of mystery fiction whose talent died before she did. The author’s East Side residence was impressive. But her entourage—from a Mrs. Danvers-like housekeeper to a lurking hypnotherapist—was creepy.

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Read all about it and/or grab the book from Amazon

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