Evil in the 1st House (5 page)
Read Evil in the 1st House Online
Authors: Mitchell Scott Lewis
“Your husband hired me to find his son's twin in the hope of convincing you to allow the operation.”
“My poor boy, my poor, poor boy.” She got up, walked over to the kitchen area, and put her tea cup in the sink. Then she poured herself a glass of water. “You sure I can't get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
She remained standing. “I don't know what to do. I can't let my son die, but I just don't trust that man. Are you sure this isn't just a ruse for him to get Kevin away from me?”
“For the past year Edward has been in and out of a private hospital your husband owns in New Jersey. According to your husband he seems to be fading fast. Also, my astrological interpretation of his chart shows that he is quite susceptible to kidney disease.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Mrs. Williamson, Why don't you take a little time and think about it?”
She sipped the water. “Are you going to tell him that you found me?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“But he hired you.”
Lowell smiled humorlessly. “That matters less than you think.”
“My other son needs me. I can't just turn my back on him.”
“Where is your son, if I may ask?”
“He's out with some friends. Kevin's a very sociable young man.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“I suppose I'll have to see Edgar. Would you arrange it? And can we do it somewhere safe? I'm very afraid of him.”
“I'll arrange a meeting at my office in Manhattan. Would that be okay?”
She nodded.
He stood up and shook her hand. “You have my number on my card. Why don't you call me when you're ready to meet?”
“You're very kind. I'll call you in a day or so.”
Andy drove him back to the city. Lowell didn't turn on his visual playground, but sat looking out at the gray world.
When they got back to Manhattan, Lowell decided to take a walk. The clouds had lifted, but it wasn't sunny, just a brighter shade of hot gray. Weather conducive to deep thought.
“Andy, drop me on Fourteenth Street. I'm going to stroll through the Village.”
Andy took the FDR to the Twenty-third Street exit and went down Second Avenue. At Fourteenth Street he pulled over and Lowell got out. It was good to stretch his legs. Perhaps he'd become too complacent lately, relying on Andy too much. He was going to see Katherine soon. That thought made him nervous, like a sixteen-year-old kid anticipating a first date.
He walked down Second Avenue, turned right onto Tenth Street, and headed west. He noticed subtle changes each time he come downtown, regretting the modernization that had slowly crept into this mostly unaltered district. But he knew this area was soon going to be massively redefined. NYU was about to gobble up huge chunks in a land grab unprecedented in this city since the heyday of Robert Moses who, two generations before had ripped entire communities from their homes and tore down neighborhood after neighborhood in the name of progress. Some of it was a necessary pruning for legitimate expansion and growth. But some was just wanton ego-fueled destruction.
Something was bothering Lowell. Like eyes, unseen, glaring at the back of his head. He turned around quickly, but nobody seemed to be watching him. A woman was looking in a dress shop window. A homeless man sat outside a deli with a large plastic container hoping for donations. Otherwise the street was very quiet on this hot and muggy day. It wasn't like him to be jittery. But despite a lack of supporting evidence he remained unnerved.
He walked past the Albert on University and Tenth Street. Originally built in the late nineteenth century as the Albert Hotel, it was now a residential apartment building, but was once a meeting center for important writers and artists of their day. Some of its famous guests included Robert Louis Stevenson, Mark Twain, Walt Whitman, Anais Nin, Jackson Pollack, and many others.
He crossed Fifth Avenue and went down to Bleecker Street. Of course this was no longer the center of bohemian music, literature, and politics it had once been. The days of starving artists living in cheap walk-ups while writing novels or perfecting their jazz were gone. The rise in housing prices had long ago pushed them out. Now it was another upper-middle-class paragon, with its romantic winding streets and hidden alleys, and rents in the thousands.
If not for the tireless efforts of Jane Jacobs, a woman with a mission, determined to stop Moses' relentless destruction and renovation, the West Village, with its hundred-year-old buildings and its old European-style charm would have been decimated by the wrecker's ball and replaced by the massive Lower Manhattan Expressway Moses had planned. The Isaacs-Hendrix House built in 1799 still stood at 77 Bedford Street. The Greek revival rowhouses that still lined the north side of Washington Square were built around 1832. They all would have been demolished if Robert Moses had had his way.
In the Fifties this area was home to Jack Kerouac, James Baldwin, Truman Capote, and so many other writers of that era. Dylan Thomas, who collapsed at the Chelsea Hotel after a night of drinking at the White Horse Tavern, died at St. Vincent's Hospital on West Twelfth Street. St. Vincent's was closed now, leaving the area without a single full-service hospital. Its buildings were being redesigned as another upper-class residence.
And in the 1960s, the final surge of creativity to emerge from this incredible neighborhood attracted the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Theloneous Monk, Simon and Garfunkel, Phil Ochs, Dave Von Ronk, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Peter, Paul, and Maryâ¦the list was endless.
It's very unlikely that another great musical explosion will ever emerge from the West Village again,
he thought.
No struggling artist could afford to live there. And the clubs that nurtured them have mostly been priced out of existence.
There was so much history here, something ignored by realtors and corporations who could only see the bottom line and not the human value.
Walking was always one of Lowell's greatest pleasures. No gadgets, no gimmicks, no car. Just him and his feet, freedom personified. He crossed Seventh Avenue and went down Bank Street, one of the loveliest of all, seemingly untouched by time. Remove the cars and you could easily think you'd awakened in 1880.
What a strange pair of cases,
he thought.
A missing woman who, it turns out had good reason to go missing. A sick child, a twin no less. A million dollars in cash and a family reunited whatever the end result.
And the embezzlement of the retirement money so many people relied on for their old age. That's cold,
he said quietly to himself,
very cold. And a marshmallow company, to boot!
After several hours of meandering, he'd had enough. His mind was clear and he was ready for work once again. A quick text and soon he was heading uptown with Andy.
“Mrs. Williamson is on line one.”
He picked up the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Williamson?”
It was 9:01 a.m.
How thoughtful yet eager,
Lowell thought.
Both good signs.
“I'm ready to meet with Edgar and see what this is all about. I can't just let one of my boys die. The sooner the better.”
“Certainly. I'll try to get in touch with him now. When are you free to come?”
“I've cleared my schedule for the next few days, so anytime you can arrange it from today through next week would be fine. I could even be there in an hour if you wanted. I'm in Westchester visiting a friend. She has a son about Kevin's age so we're staying here for a few days. I had to get out of the apartment. And they've got a pool, which is just great for Kevin.”
“Okay, I'll let you know.” They hung up.
Lowell buzzed Sarah. “Get me Dr. Williamson. If he doesn't answer, leave a message that I've found his wife and son.”
A few moments later Sarah buzzed. “Dr. Williamson on line one.”
Lowell picked up the phone. “Dr. Williamson, I've located your wife. She would like me to arrange a meeting with you in my office.”
“That's very good news, Mr. Lowell. When can we set this up?”
“She would like it to be as soon as possible.”
“As would I.”
“Are you free today?”
“Yes, of course,” said Williamson, “I can be at your office at noon, if that works.”
“I'll arrange it and have my assistant Sarah confirm it with you.”
Lowell sent Andy to pick up Gloria. She arrived at about 11:45 and sat in a client's chair in Lowell's office staring out the window.
“Can I get you something? Coffee, or perhaps something stronger?”
She turned toward him, a faraway look in her eyes and shrugged. “I guess coffee would be nice, thank you.”
He buzzed Sarah. “Would you please get Mrs. Williamson a cup of coffee with⦔
“Milk and two sugars.”
“â¦milk and two sugars. And I'll have one as well.”
Sarah came in a few minutes later with the coffee in delicate china cups she used mostly for clients, and a plate of cookies. “I thought you might like something with your coffee.” She put the snacks on the table by the couch and left.
Lowell got up from his desk. “Let's sit over here on the couch.”
Gloria displayed little animation and seemed almost in a trance. She sipped her coffee, took one of the cookies and nibbled the tiniest bite. Her demure attitude belied a rather attractive woman in her forties. Her face was quite pretty and if she'd paid any attention at all to her looks she could be very desirable. But she carried herself in a shy, reserved manner and dressed in frumpy clothes that hid any sexuality she might accidentally exude.
Lowell could see her distress. “I'm sure you're worried about your sons. It'll be okay.”
Gloria looked at him. “I don't trust that man. I can't.”
“I understand. I'll stay with you the entire time if you wish.”
“I would like that very much. I'm only agreeing to see him because of you. I've always been a believer in astrology, and your demeanor and reputation are very comforting.”
He nodded in thanks. “I'll be around as long as you need me.”
The intercom rang. Lowell walked over to the receiver. “Yes, Sarah?â¦Okay.” He turned to Gloria. “It's your husband.” He switched phone lines. “Yes, Dr. Williamson. I have your wife here with meâ¦I seeâ¦Do you wish to talk to her?â¦Okay.” He hung up.
“He's running a bit late. He'll be here in half an hour.”
She nodded silently. They finished the coffee.
“I have some work to do. There are magazines and a TV in the conference room. Anything you need, please tell Sarah and she'll see to it.” Lowell ushered her out to Sarah's desk.
About thirty minutes later the intercom buzzed.
“Dr. Williamson is here.”
“Have him come in. And then please get Mrs. Williamson.”
The door opened and Williamson entered. “Well, Mr. Lowell, your reputation is well earned. That was quick work. But our deal is still the same. You've earned your money.”
Before Lowell could respond, Sarah led Gloria in. When she saw her ex-husband she gasped audibly.
“Gloria,” he said, “so nice to see you again. How have you been?”
There was no discernable warmth in his voice. Lowell thought he could have been talking to a stranger he'd encountered for a second time on a train, not the mother of his children.
Williamson went over to hug Gloria, but she backed away.
“As you wish. We have important business to discuss that concerns us both. As you know, Edward is very sick. Without a kidney transplant I'm afraid he won't last more than a few more weeks.”
She nodded.
Williamson continued. “Because of a quirk of fate, the boys have inherited my unusual blood type and finding another donor has proven daunting. My left kidney was damaged in a car accident a number of years ago, and Kevin is the only possible solution at this point.”
“I understand.”
“So you agree to the operation?”
Gloria bit her lower lip. “The final decision must be Kevin's. It's his body, after all. And I assume he has legal rights in the matter as well.”
Williamson's impatience was obvious. “A decision has to be made, and soon, or your other son will die. Now let's get this thing done before it's too late.” Lowell had a chance to see the doctor's aggressive demeanor toward his wife.
Gloria seemed deflated. Her shoulders sagged, her eyes unfocused. Finally she looked at her estranged husband. “Like I said, the final decision must be Kevin's.”
“Have you told him about this?”
She nodded. “He knows.”
“Well, it's time to find out.”
“He's at my apartment.”
“Then let's go ask him.”
“Okay,” she sighed.
Lowell stood. “I'll have my driver take us up there.”
Williamson stood as well. “I have my own car and prefer to drive there separately.”
“Very well. My driver will take us and you can follow.”
They all went down to the street where Andy was waiting ever patiently. Lowell helped Gloria into the limo.
“Are you sure you're ready, Gloria?”
She looked at Lowell, tears in her eyes.
“I think so.”
The ride up was uneventful. Gloria was quiet, withdrawn. There was traffic and it took a bit longer to get there. Lowell would have preferred to turn on a more cheery scene, perhaps the Vermont snowstorm he was so fond of, but he wasn't sure how his guest would respond, so they sat in silence gazing out the window at the overcast day.
When they reached West Hartford, Andy pulled over in front of Gloria's building. Williamson found parking out front. Andy waited with the limo.
Gloria opened the door and they entered the apartment.
Williamson was last in. He closed the door. “Gloria, please get the boy.”
She disappeared into the back and returned a few moments later with Kevin. At fifteen he was as tall as his father and looked much older than his years. “Kevin,” she said, “this is your father.”
Williamson stood in front of him. “Kevin, let me look at you. My God, you're grown into a man. How does the time go by so fast? It's really quite amazing how much you look like Edward. Though much more robust, I'm afraid.” He extended his hand.
The boy eyed him cautiously for a moment. Lowell sensed disdain in his bearing. Then he finally stuck out his hand. “Yeah, whatever.”
Williamson shook the lad's hand. “You understand what I'm asking of you?”
Kevin nodded. “You want to take one of my kidneys and give it to my brother.”
“That's right. You know that you can live a full and uninhibited life with just one kidney, but without this transplant your brother Edward will surely die soon. You'll be saving his life.”
“I know. I looked it all up on the Internet.”
“Wonderful. I'm glad you did. I'll be doing the operation myself to make sure nothing goes wrong.” He smiled a crooked grin. “But this is ultimately your choice. Nobody can make the decision for you. Are you willing to do this?”
Kevin looked at his mother. “Mom, I have to. I only have one brother and he needs my help. I can't turn away. You understand, don't you?”
Gloria grabbed her son and held him tightly. “You've always been a wonderful person, Kevin. I would have been more surprised if you had refused.”
She turned to Williamson. “Alright, let's do it.”
“Good. I'll make the arrangements at my private hospital. I'll contact you in a few days and let you know when to bring him out.”
He turned to his son. “Kevin, you're doing a wonderful thing for your brother and I'm proud of you.”
The boy nodded and shrugged. “Got no choice.” He looked at his mother, a silent communication transpired between them. Then he put in earphones, turned without saying another word, and went into his room.
“Gloria, no matter what went on between us, this is the right thing to do, and you know it. Please try not to worry. I'll see to it that nothing goes wrong. You're saving your son's life. How can that be a bad thing?”
She just looked him, shaking her head. “I hope you're right.”
“Of course I am.” He looked at his watch. “I'll leave you alone now. I've got to get back to New Jersey and begin to make preparations. I'll be in touch with you early next week and let you know what day the operation will be. Where can I phone you?”
“Please call Mr. Lowell and let him know. He'll tell me.”
“Mr. Lowell, our business has been completed. You've found my other son and have earned your fee. I see no reason for you to be involved in this matter any longer.”
Gloria stared at her husband defiantly. “I want him to be involved.” She turned to Lowell. “That is, if you're willing to.”
Lowell nodded. “I'll help in any way I can.”
Williamson shrugged. “If that's what you want Gloria. Very well, Mr. Lowell, I'll get in touch soon.”
He turned and headed for the door.
After he left, Gloria collapsed on the couch. “I hope I'm doing the right thing.”
Lowell tugged on his ponytail. “I'm sure you are.”
“Can you be there at the hospital?”
“Of course. I told you, I won't leave you until you say so.”
“I have no money to pay you.”
Lowell waved a hand. “I've been more than fairly compensated for my time already. It would be my pleasure to help.”
She almost smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Lowell, you're a very kind man.”
Lowell was surprised that this had all gone so smoothly. That was the first alarm. He knew it was far from over.