Evil in the 1st House (9 page)

Chapter Twenty

That night Lowell was having an early dinner alone at Louie's on Twenty-fifth Street. He was being extra cautious and had sent the staff home early with Andy. After a hearty vegetarian stew and a glass of organic Merlot he paid his bill and headed home. The long walk would help his digestion, and Andy was only a phone call away. It was almost seven. Rush hour had winded down and the traffic was moving along quickly.

He began walking uptown on First Avenue when he saw two men approach a yellow Toyota stopped at a light. One went around to the passenger's side and opened the door. The other yanked the driver's door open and began pulling a middle-aged woman out by her hair.

Lowell ran across the street and was a few feet from the car when a short young woman joined him.

“You take the one on the driver's side, if you think you can handle it, Grandpa.”

“Grandpa? Listen, young lady, why don't you just go about your business and let me deal with this?” He turned to look at her and was startled. He had noticed her earlier that day, half a block behind him looking in store windows, and had begun to wonder if perhaps she was tailing him.

She ignored his advice and ran around to the passenger's side.

He ran to the driver's side, grabbed the assailant's arm at the elbow and pushed against the joint, causing that man great pain. The man let the woman's head go and turned his attention toward Lowell.

“Want a piece of me, asshole, you got it.”

He swung a slow, wide, left hook, which David was able to step away from. The force of the punch upset the man's balance, and David pulled him forward while putting his leg out. The man tripped over it and fell facedown on the ground. David walked over and took the man's arm at the shoulder and twisted it, dislocating the joint. The man screamed in pain and then passed out.

Lowell turned toward the second assailant just in time to witness the young woman who had joined in the rescue execute a perfect judo shoulder-throw, tossing the man on his back. As he lifted his head she swung her left foot whacking him on the side of his head and knocking him out.

She looked at the man lying at Lowell's feet. “Not bad, Grandpa.”

“If you call me grandpa one more time I'm going to take you over my knee and spank the living daylights out of you.”

“Oh, do you promise? Fifty shades of gray.” She laughed. “Anyway, lighten up, I meant it as a compliment. I like older men. Takes guys a long time to grow up.”

A cop car pulled over behind them and two of New York's finest exited.

“What's going on here?” asked a young officer.

The driver of the car came over. “Officer, those two men were trying to pull me out of my car when this man and woman came to my rescue.”

“I see.”

Lowell presented his card. “David Lowell.”

The officer looked down at it. “Okay, Mr. Lowell, if you wouldn't mind giving us a brief statement.”

After they both had told their tale to the officer, Lowell headed uptown once again. The young woman walked right next to him, keeping pace. She was a few inches shorter than Lowell's five-feet-eight.

“Young lady, what do you want? And why have you been following me?”

“Oh you notice, huh? I never was good at tailing. It's just as well. I want to talk to you.”

She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small, well-worn leather wallet. She flipped it open. “Officer Karen Sweeney,” then she flipped it closed and returned it to her pocket.

“That wasn't a New York badge, was it?”

“LAPD.”

“Hmm. What does the LAPD want with me?”

“We're pursuing someone in New York and your name came up.”

“Who are you chasing?”

“Williamson.”

Lowell stopped walking and turned toward her. “Dr. Williamson?”

She nodded. “I was tailing him too and saw him go to your office. What did Williamson want with you?”

“I wouldn't stay in business very long if I betrayed the confidence of my clients, would I?”

“Well, it doesn't matter. I'm not leaving until I find out.” They walked uptown together at a New York pace Lowell was used to. “Hey, could you slow down just a bit? I got short legs.”

“Can't keep up with the old guy?”

She smiled. “Maybe not on foot. Anyway, I was told to look you up and I was going to introduce myself eventually. I just wanted to check you out on the sly for a little while, see who I was dealing with.”

“Told to look me up by whom?”

“You know a detective in L.A. named Samuels?”

“Wally?”

She nodded. “He told me to introduce myself while in New York. Said you were old friends.”

“Let me see that badge again.”

She took it out. “What's the matter, don't you trust me?”

“For forty bucks you could have a phony made up. You have any other ID?”

She laughed. “You're Wally's friend, alright. Here,” she reached into her back pocket and took out her personal wallet.

Lowell looked through it and found a picture of the woman in uniform standing next to Wally Samuels. It looked like a Christmas party at the precinct. Satisfied, he returned it to her.

“So what can I do for you?”

“Private detective from L.A. named Mickey Broad was found shot to death in his apartment in Venice, California, and I'd like to know who killed him. He was in New York shortly before his murder. I believe the doctor was his last client. I find him to be a person of interest in the case.”

Lowell nodded. “Williamson mentioned hiring a PI in California. So what do you want from me?”

“I want to hire you. I need to know what he told you. I can pay you five hundred bucks. That's all I've got.” She took a check from her wallet already made out to Lowell for that amount. “Only don't cash it until I get back to L.A.”

“Officer…”

“Sweeney.”

“Officer Sweeney, I have no intention of giving you any information regarding my client or his case.”

“I was hoping in the spirit of cooperation with law enforcement…”

“I tell you what, any information that I feel isn't crossing the line I will share with you. How's that?”

He started to walk rapidly. She struggled to keep up.

“I take it that walking is not a sport in L.A. like it is in New York?”

“We only walk on treadmills.”

“Well,” said Lowell, “get used to it. But don't expect to get much information.”

“Like I said before, I'm not leaving your side until I find out a few things.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Wally sort of thought you might be willing to put me up for a few nights. He said you have a big place. And I wouldn't get in the way.”

“Why don't you just stay in a hotel and charge it to the LAPD?”

She shrugged.

“You're out here on your own, aren't you? Does your boss even know what you're up to?”

“He thinks I'm on vacation visiting my aunt in Greenwich, Connecticut.” She laughed. “He'd bust a gut if he knew.”

“Look,” said the detective, “I don't mind helping you out a bit while you're in town, but I'm a very private person and I don't really like house guests.”

“You won't even know I'm there, I promise. I'll be as quiet as a mouse and won't leave my room.”

“I don't think so.”

Karen stopped walking and gently grabbed Lowell's arm. He stopped too. “I wouldn't ask, except that, well, I'm kinda broke right now and it took all my dough to get here. I really don't have enough for a hotel room.”

“Why don't I just pay for a room for you?”

She shook her head, her short brown bangs flip-flopping across her forehead. “I could never take charity, and it would just take too long to pay it back. Besides, I'm hiring you. It wouldn't work if you paid for things. This way if you're ever in L.A. you can call on me to return the favor for anything you needed. You can always stay at my place.”

“I don't think so.”

“Please? Just think about it, okay? You won't regret it, I promise. Do you live around here?”

“No. I live uptown off of Lexington Avenue, in Carnegie Hill.”

“Don't know where that is. This is my first trip to New York since I was twelve. Come on, I'll drive you home. The car's down this street.”

They turned down Twenty-fifth Street toward Second Avenue. “Why do you have a car in New York?”

“How else was I supposed to get here?”

“You mean you drove from L.A.?” Lowell was incredulous.

“Yeah. It's not so bad when you got company. Here's my car.”

“Company? What company?”

They were stopped next to an old, beat-up, gray Toyota, vintage 2000 or so. Karen opened the door with a key and clicked the lock-release on the driver's door. “Get in.”

Lowell walked around to the passenger's door and opened it. It squeaked from rust and old age. He stuck his head into the car and his face was immediately slobbered on by the largest, black dog he had ever seen. “What the hell?”

“That's Luigi. He won't bother you. Just push him into the backseat. He's a pussy cat, really.” She got into the driver's seat and grabbed the dog by the collar. “Go on, you big baby, get in the back. That's a good boy.” She looked out the passenger door. “You can get in now.”

Lowell was wiping his face with a handkerchief as he got in the car. “What do you intend to do with him?”

“What do you mean? He's staying with me. I wouldn't leave my buddy for all the money in the world.” She looked at him sheepishly. “Nobody's going to let me stay in a hotel with him. Now do you get it? What do you say?”

“You've been here for a few days already, haven't you? Where have you been staying?”

She waved her hand around the Toyota. “Welcome to Chez Sweeney.”

“You've been living in your car?”

“Yep. But I got Luigi for protection.”

Lowell was used to being alone, especially since his divorce. He had guests infrequently, though on one occasion he had to house his entire staff at his townhouse during a particularly dangerous case. But he really didn't like being around people that much, especially strangers. And while on a case he preferred to stay in his office. But he wouldn't allow a stranger to stay in his townhouse without his presence, which meant that he would also have to stay at the townhouse. But this woman was Wally's friend. He couldn't let her sleep in the car. And he did have one serious weakness—animals. He loved them all unconditionally. This was the main reason he was a vegetarian. He looked at the monster in the backseat, its sad eyes watching his every move, as if he knew Lowell controlled his future.

He sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Alright. For a few days. Why are you doing this and risking so much?”

“The detective that was killed?”

“Broad.”

She nodded. “My name is Karen Broad Sweeney. He was my mother's brother and my favorite relative. And I loved him very much.”

Chapter Twenty-one

“What makes you think Williamson had anything to do with your uncle's death?”

Karen was sitting on the couch in the living room of Lowell's townhouse, Luigi asleep at her feet. “I don't know. I'm just following the trail. The last time I spoke to him he told me that he had discovered something strange about a case he was working on and he needed to follow it up.”

“He didn't tell you what he found out?”

She shook her head. “I only know that he came to the East Coast for a few days, and then flew back to L.A. I got one short phone message while he was here.” She took her cell phone from her pocket, pushed a few buttons, and gave it to Lowell.

He listened. “
Hi Karen, I'm in a hurry, I'll call you later when I have more time.”
There was the sound of rustling papers.
“I've got the weirdest case I've ever had. Things aren't at all what they seem. Listen kid, if anything happens to me I want you to take the keys I gave you last year, go to my N.Y. apartment and get the mail. I sent something to myself and if I can't get there for any reason, you must check it out.”
He could hear a door opening.
“I gotta go. I'll call you soon,”
said in a whisper.
Then the message ended.

Lowell handed her the phone. “Doesn't tell us much. Not even if it was Williamson he was talking about. Maybe he was looking into something else altogether.”

“That's possible. But I'm going to follow my uncle's footsteps until I find out what happened.”

“If Williamson was involved, he lives and works in New Jersey. Why are you in Manhattan?”

“My uncle was born here and grew up on the Lower East Side. He always kept his rent-controlled apartment to use when he was in New York. He held onto it for decades, even after he moved to California, and that's where he was staying when he was here. He went back to L.A. right before I received this message, and he was dead forty-eight hours later. That's all I got to go on. Sometimes all we have is our instincts.”

“If your uncle has a place here…”

“Why aren't I staying there?”

Lowell shrugged.

“I went down there and saw the super when I first got here. No dogs allowed. And he was very unbending and nasty about it. He said that if he found a dog living in one of his apartments he'd call the cops immediately. And I think it would be pretty difficult to hide Luigi.”

“I see.”

Lowell's live-in housekeeper, Julia entered. She was originally from Brazil and went to work for Lowell soon after her husband died, almost seven years before.

“Mr. Lowell, the guest room is ready.” She looked down at Luigi, her displeasure quite apparent. “What do you want me to do with him?”

Karen bent down by Luigi, who rolled on his back so she could rub his belly. “Don't worry about him. He's as gentle as a cow.”

The housekeeper nodded. “And twice as big. You got food for him?”

“I've got a fifty-pound bag in the car.”

“And what are you going to feed him tomorrow?” She turned to leave. “Bring it to me and I'll take care of him.”

“I'll do it,” said Karen. “After all, he's my dog.”

“Oh, no you won't. He may be your dog but it's my house. I'll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me.” She went down the hall.

Lowell watched with amusement. “Look, Karen, I'll try to help you find out what happened to your uncle in any way I can. Feel free to ask any of my staff for help as well. I'll let them know tomorrow. But I have to separate your situation from my case. I can't let it interfere with my investigation.”

“I understand. I appreciate any help you can lend.”

Lowell got up. “I've got some work to do downstairs in my office. Will you be alright here for a while?”

“Sure. I'm real tired anyway. Luigi and I will watch some TV and then turn in early. We haven't had a good night's sleep since we left L.A.”

She yawned and tilted her head from side to side, stretching her neck muscles. “I've got some phone calls to make early in the morning. Also, there's a guy in Queens who might know something. Last time I spoke to my uncle he mentioned a name and an address in Queens, New York. Where is that? Queens? And how do I get there?”

“It's that way.” Lowell pointed east. “But it's a big borough with lots of different neighborhoods and you don't know your way around. Let me know if you decide to follow up on it. I'll have my driver take you.”

“Really? You mean like a chauffeur?”

“Exactly like one. Just call my office a few hours in advance and let Sarah know where you need to go. Andy will pick you up and take you there.” He handed her his card.

“Cool.”