The Bar Mitzvah Murder (19 page)

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.

“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.”

“Then call him. He can meet you down at the station house.”

Helfer looked at both of us. Then he almost smiled. “Officer,” he began in a calmer voice.

“Lieutenant,” Jack corrected him. “Lieutenant John Brooks.”

“I'm sorry; no insult intended. Lieutenant, I'm sure we can work something out here. What exactly do you want from me?”

“We need information on the Double Eagle charity.”

“Hey, if that's all this is about, why didn't you say so? My books are open to the public. Would you like to see them now?”

“I'd like to take them with me. You'll be given a receipt.”

“It's too extensive, sir. I have file cabinets.”

“We can carry the files.”

“Please come into my office.”

We followed him into a beautiful large room with a fine desk, a thick carpet, and an exercise machine near the window. He had a single file cabinet, which he opened to show Jack the contents. There really weren't a lot of file folders in each drawer. Each of us carried one drawerful out, and Jack gave Helfer a receipt.

“Where is your list of contributors?” Jack asked.

“It's under ‘C.' ”

“I'll be in touch.”

“We're going to lose him,” I said when Jack and I had finally gotten into our car.

“I have nothing on him, Chris. There are circumstantial indications that he's involved in Gabe's death, but nothing I can consider evidence.”

“He ran when he saw the detectives.”

“He panicked. Lots of people do. It doesn't mean they're guilty.”

“We'll never see him again,” I said. “He'll be gone in the morning.”

“I don't think so. He's got to stick around for that check from Gabe's estate. It's seven figures. It's what he's been waiting for.”

I waited a moment before saying what was on my mind. “The purpose of this evening was for me to talk to Gary Helfer. I ended up a minority of one with two detectives and a lieutenant. I didn't get a single word in.”

“You're annoyed.”

“I guess I am. I was a tagalong at a police show. And it was a disaster.”

“I couldn't let you go alone.”

“I shouldn't have gone at all. None of us should. We've tipped our hand. Both Helfer and Judy Silverman know we're suspicious of the charity.”

“They can't move without that check, Chris.”

I had said my piece.

“Let me tell you what Marnie found in her safe,” I said when Jack and I were home and I had cooled off. I told him quickly. It needed no embellishments.

He whistled when he heard it. “And you figured someone she knew left them.”

“Eventually I decided that this Gary Helfer was being looked at for another crime and he didn't want the diamonds in his possession.”

“I will check that out tomorrow. You think Marnie knows he left the diamonds?”

“I think she realized it after she showed them to me. That's why she called and said she didn't think it was worth my working on it anymore.”

“Let me ask you something. Do you think Gabe really wanted to give Helfer's charity a few million bucks?”

“I think Gabe was too smart to do that. I just can't figure out how Helfer got Gabe to put that in his will.”

“Well, let's sleep on it. And let's hope we come up with something in those files, although I'm afraid we won't. If Helfer and Gabe's daughter are involved in a swindle that included homicide, they're probably running that charity as clean as new snow.”

“They're taking money off the top, Jack. That's how he can afford that apartment and all the expensive furnishings.”

“And the expensive companion.”

I smiled. “How do you think I'd look in a silk outfit like hers?”

“Intimidating. I'd be afraid to touch.”

“OK. Then I won't get one.”

“Good thing. I'd need at least a captain's salary for that.”

First thing in the morning I drove to Marnie's house without calling first. The housekeeper recognized me when she answered the door and thought a moment before calling Marnie. When Marnie saw me, she stopped cold.

“I only have a minute,” she said.

It was a much less inviting greeting than the last time I had been here. “That's all I need, Marnie. Your brother is Gary Helfer.”

She froze. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“He left the diamonds and the note in your safe.”

“That's not true.”

“Think about it, Marnie. Think about what that means. He may have ordered Gabe's murder.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “My brother wouldn't do that. My brother is a good person. He's had some problems, but he's gotten over them.”

“I'm sure you love him very much.”

The tears began to fall. “Our parents died when I was in my teens. He took care of me. There wasn't always enough money, but he managed. I owe him my life.”

“I understand, Marnie. But your husband's life was just as valuable and your husband loved you.”

“I know.” It was a whisper.

“I think you know what you have to do.”

“I can't. I'm sorry. Please go.”

As I left the house, two policemen got out of a car and walked up to the front door. One of them was carrying a search warrant.

29

When I got home there was a message on the machine: “Ms. Bennett, this is Elaine, Attorney Singer's secretary. Please call me when you get back.”

I called immediately.

“Ms. Bennett, good morning. Mr. Singer and I were talking yesterday and I reminded him that we had a break-in about two months ago.”

“Was anything taken?”

“A few dollars of petty cash in my drawer and my typewriter. I don't know why anyone would steal a typewriter nowadays.”

“It does seem odd,” I agreed.

“We reported it to the police and they tried to lift prints, but it looked like a professional job.”

“And that's all they took?” I said, trying to see where this was going.

“There was one peculiar thing. I don't know if it has anything to do with the break-in. I always pull the plug on the printer before I go home. Something happened once and now I do that every night. When I came in the next morning and went to plug it in, the plug was already in the strip. Oh, just a minute. Mr. Singer wants me.”

A moment later she had connected the three of us in a conference call. Harold Singer gave me his take on the burglary.

“It was small-time,” he said. “They did it for beer money. These things happen in Manhattan. Thank heaven nothing was destroyed and they didn't trash the office.”

I asked him if he could take a look at his copy of Gabe's will. “Elaine told me someone had plugged in her printer. I'm wondering whether that means something.”

“Elaine, can you find Gabriel Gross's will?” he said.

“One moment.”

As we waited, I could hear him tapping a pen on his desk. Maybe this was it, I thought. Maybe this was the thing that could link everything.

“OK, here it is.”

“Would you turn every page and see if they all look the same?”

“OK.”

I waited, hoping he would find something.

“They look the same to me.”

“Are the pages initialed?”

“Yes.”

“Would you check the initials?” Again I waited. I needed something. I didn't want a killer to go free.

“Well,” he said, “there's one page where the initial could be slightly different. Not much. Maybe I'm just looking too hard. It almost looks as though it was done with a different pen, a slightly thicker point.”

“What's on that page, Mr. Singer?”

“Part of the list of charities he was endowing.”

“Mr. Singer,” now my heart had picked up its beat, “is Double Eagle on that page?”

“Yes. Here it is. Near the top.”

“How easy would it be for someone to produce a page of the will using your computer?”

“Very easy,” Elaine said. “Just use my word-processing software, which is what I use most of the time, and print it out using the same font.”

“So someone could change one item or line or several lines and print it out and you would never know the difference?”

“Well, it has to be initialed.”

“And if the same pen wasn't around?”

“I see what you're saying.” It was the lawyer now. “It's easy to copy an initial, isn't it? And if you used a different pen, it might be a little thicker or thinner or darker or lighter.”

“Exactly.”

“I see your point,” he said. “Someone may have added a listing. They'd probably have to subtract one to make it fit, and without my original notes I can't tell you if anything is missing. Or if anything has been added. But it's a good theory, and it may be what happened. Still, I have to tell you I have a 501.3(C) for them. They're a legitimate tax-exempt charity.”

Legitimate, I thought, meant only that the government hadn't dug deep enough. “Tell me, Mr. Singer, when do you anticipate sending the checks for the bequests?”

“They went out today,” Elaine said.

“Today?”

“The mailman came about ten this morning and I gave him the outgoing mail. All the checks were there.”

“So there's a good chance they'll be delivered in Manhattan tomorrow morning.”

“I would hope so. And you know, someone called from Double Eagle last week to ask when the checks were coming.”

“Ms. Bennett.” It was the lawyer's voice. “Tell you what I'll do. I'll put a stop on the Double Eagle check and I'll notify the charity that an irregularity has come up. You've raised some uncomfortable questions. But I have to warn you, if you don't come up with something definitive in forty-eight hours, I'll have to issue another check.”

I got the point.

When I got off the phone, much as I didn't want to make the trip again, I drove back to Marnie's house. Elsie had been enlisted to take care of Eddie, so I had the time.

“Chris,” she said when I came in. “Did you call the police to come here?”

“No, I didn't. There's an investigation into Gabe's death and I expect one of the detectives did that.”

“You told them about the diamonds.”

“Last night. I kept it a secret until then. But last night I couldn't keep it a secret anymore.”

“They took them, the diamonds. I don't know whose they are or what they're worth, but I guess they're not mine anymore.”

I didn't comment. “Marnie, did your brother ever meet Gabe's daughter?”

“Funny you ask. They did. How did you know?”

“Just a thought. How long ago was it?”

“It was just after we were married, about three years ago. We gave a party and invited a lot of people, friends of mine to meet Gabe, friends of his to meet me. Judy came and my brother came. I knew she didn't like me. I'm a lot younger than her mother and she always had it in her head that Gabe cheated on her mother with me. She never came again when we invited her, and she and Gabe had no real relationship.

“But that night I remember seeing her talking to Gary. They talked a lot. I was surprised. I hadn't thought about that for a long time.”

“Marnie, did Gabe keep a file on the information he gave Harold Singer for his will?”

“I'm sure he must have. He was a very organized person. I suppose you want to see it.”

“Please.”

She took me into her husband's study, a small, pleasant room with a lovely view of the grounds behind the house. The file cabinets were built in and she looked in several places before pulling out a folder.

I sat in a chair, not wanting to use Gabe's desk, and opened the file. There was a draft of the will with a number of things crossed out and other lines and phrases inserted. He had certainly worked on this document himself. Behind it were pages of handwritten notes and scraps of paper with phrases, questions, and dates.

I looked through the draft of the will first. There were no charities listed, just an almost empty page where he had written: “Bequests to Charities.” But the list was spelled out in his own handwriting. I read through it twice, running my finger down the pages as Harold Singer had done when I saw him in his office. There was no Double Eagle.

“What is it you're looking for?” Marnie asked. “You've seen the will.”

“There's a discrepancy,” I said. “May I take this folder with me?”

“I suppose if I don't give it to you, you'll have the police come and take it.”

I didn't say anything.

“Take it. What difference does it make anymore? I can assure you my brother isn't mentioned anywhere in Gabe's will.”

“I know that,” I said.

“Then what's the point?”

“I'll explain it to you, but not today.”

“I think I don't even want to know.”

I let it be.