GUNNED (11 page)

“I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. Erika died when she was three.”

Rhoda Newman was average looking in every way except for the pain in her eyes. While we waited for her to continue I silently cursed the Internet. It was really a marvel, but sometimes, like now, it failed miserably. Why hadn’t it spit out the information that both Mr. Newman and Erika Newman were dead.

Rhoda picked up a paper napkin and started to slowly tear it into shreds. “It was a long time ago, Erika’s death. It’s what broke us apart. They say when two people lose a child it either brings them closer or tears them apart. It did the latter for us. Ira blamed me. The doctors said it was inherited, but he didn’t want to hear any of that. He said it was my fault and that was the end of it. It wasn’t something he was ever going to forgive me for, so he left. He tried to make a new life for himself, but drinking got the best of him. He went through another divorce and never did have any more children.”

The kettle whistled and Rhoda Newman got up and poured hot water in the mugs and then placed a small box of teabags on the table.

“And you, Mrs. Newman?”

I didn’t really have to ask. The pain in her eyes told me everything. This woman was stuck in time. She had never moved on after the death of her child. She sat there quietly, with absolutely no makeup and her lifeless dark brown hair pushed over her ears. I could tell she must have been quite pretty thirty years ago, but a hard life had taken its toll.

“We moved here shortly after she died. Neither one of us could stand to be in the little house where we were living a happy life. Ira moved out about a year later and I just stayed here. I’m the benefits manager for a firm in Stamford. I go to work and I come home. That’s my life if you can call it a life.”

Annie reached over and touched Mrs. Newman’s hand. “How did your daughter die?” she asked softly.

“I was a wild thing. I grew up in a strict Jewish family, and then after junior college I went wild. I had quite a few boyfriends and I started doing drugs and drinking. Then I met Ira. He was a good guy. I settled down, though I still did the drugs for a while. Then I got pregnant. We were thrilled, but I knew nothing. My relationship with my mother was pretty much over because of my wild lifestyle. I went to a clinic a few times, but nothing like they do now with all the doctor visits and the care and vitamins and tests.

“Anyway, I had the baby. It was rough so they did a C-section. I was pretty sick for a couple of days afterward and Ira was so busy at work. It would have been nice to have had my parents with me, but a friend came to keep me company. Then Ira and I took Erika home. She was beautiful, tons of hair, and she slept well. I turned into a good mother. And then I noticed she didn’t seem to develop as quickly as the other babies. Her breathing was labored, she seemed lethargic. She was slow to learn things and she started to get sick a lot. We took her in for tests and she had something called Shone’s Complex. It had something to do with her heart. They said she was born with it and there was nothing to do and they weren’t sure what caused it. But Ira wouldn’t listen to anything they said. He blamed me and my lifestyle and nothing I could say or the doctors could say would change his opinion. Maybe if I had taken better care of myself they would have noticed it before she was born. Lots of people survive with it, but Erika wasn’t one of the lucky ones. She had several operations and we had hope.” Rhoda Newman took a deep breath and then let it out. “She kept getting sick all the time and then she died.”

“I’m so very sorry,” Annie said. She was still holding Mrs. Newman’s hand, while I was trying my best not to cry in front of the woman.

Rhoda Newman reached for another napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Ira couldn’t take it. I wanted to go and get counseling, work our way through the pain, but by that point he was just a shell of a man. After he left me, I, well, I never wanted to meet anyone again. I didn’t want to have any more kids because what if it happened again? I just wasn’t into trying anymore.”

“Did you tell all of this to Mr. Spiegel” I asked.

“Oh, no. I just told him that Erika was dead so it didn’t matter what he thought. I told him to be happy with the daughter he had and to go away.”

“Mrs. Newman, did you ever feel that Erika wasn’t your daughter? Did you ever think for a moment that she had been switched?”

“No, never. I didn’t see her the first day because I was so sick, but when I saw her I remember thinking she looked like my mother, what with the dark hair, and it would be so nice if my parents would come to see her.”

“And afterward, as she got older, did you ever have any doubts.”

“No, Ms. Harris, never. Of course, we were so consumed with her always being sick, but I never thought anything was amiss. Babies change constantly, you know. First she looked like my mother and then I thought she looked like Ira, but who knows. Maybe you see what you want to see. Babies pick up mannerisms, too.”

“Do you remember anything odd happening at the hospital?” I asked.

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang and she left to let the repairman in. She took him upstairs and then returned to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. He’s doing some repairs in the bathroom. What did you ask me?”

“I wanted to know if you remember anything odd going on at the hospital.”

“Nothing that I can recall. It was kind of noisy, I remember that. I woke up one night because of all the noise, but then I went right back to sleep. I was happy to go home, but it would have been nice to have had my mother around to help me,” Rhoda Newman said quietly. “They, I mean my parents, never did come to see Erika. And now they’re all gone. It’s just me.”

“Mrs. Newman, I am so sorry that we brought up all this pain again,” I said, as Annie and I prepared to leave.

“It’s okay. I haven’t talked about it with anyone in years, and for some strange reason I feel better having told you about it. A total stranger, but maybe I just needed to finally get it all out. I’ve started so many times to look for someone to talk to, you know, a professional, and I never did because I didn’t want to bring it all up, but ever since Mr. Spiegel came by I can’t stop thinking about Erika and Ira. I’m thinking maybe I should finally look into finding a counselor or some support group.”

“I think that might be a very good idea. One more thing,” I said, “what if Mr. Spiegel was right? What if your daughters were switched? Do you have any desire to meet the woman who may be your biological child?”

“I didn’t when he first told me. Erika was my child. Entertaining any thoughts that she may have been switched seemed somehow disrespectful to her memory. But I’ve been thinking about it these last couple of days, and if something happened at the hospital and I got the wrong child, which caused me to spend most of my adult life blaming myself for her death, and was responsible for the heartache that drove Ira to an early grave, then someone needs to pay for what they put us through.”

Whether Rhoda Newman thought that person was Mr. Spiegel, and whether or not she did something about it, I didn’t know. But if I was in her shoes and found out that I might actually have a child out there after I had given up all hope and been through what she’d been through, I think once the shock wore off, I’d be pretty darned upset. I was already upset just thinking about what this poor woman had endured all these years, and without the support of loving parents. I had a goofy family, but one thing I could always count on was the fact that if I called and said
come right now
, they would. No questions asked. I couldn’t image a life without that assurance.

“Does it strike you as a strange thing that Mrs. Shalt’s father died of congenital heart failure and now we find out that Erika Newman was born with a heart disease as well?”

I thought about that for a moment. “There’s just so much that can go wrong when you’re pregnant,” I said. “I don’t know if there’s any connection.”

“People should be so grateful if they are lucky enough to have a healthy child. Do you think any of this has anything at all to do with why Mr. Spiegel was killed?”

I looked over at Annie. “I think we need to find out what went on at that hospital.”

“Yes, we must find a way to speak with someone there. If Mrs. Newman wanted to lash out at someone, if
any
of the parents or young women wanted to take revenge, why kill Mr. Spiegel and not someone at the hospital?”

Annie made a good point. But maybe Mr. Spiegel, being the bearer of bad news, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I could see Rhoda Newman being so distraught at the thought of having gotten the wrong baby that she just lashed out at the man.

“Maybe in Mrs. Newman’s case, here she’s lived a life of total heartache and relentless pain since baby Erika died. Then some guy shows up and says, ‘Funny thing. Our babies may have been switched in the nursery. You know what? I just might have your kid.’ Well, in her current state, maybe everything, all that grief, just came bubbling out and she couldn’t control her rage. Maybe she thought Mr. Spiegel did it on purpose. Maybe she thought it was an accident. But that didn’t matter. The deed was done and she got the wrong baby. She just snapped and killed him.”

Annie nodded thoughtfully. “We must go to the hospital and talk to these people.”

“Easier said than done. Major lawsuit is what they would think of first, and then they would clam up and not say a word. Plus, who the heck am I? I’m just some nosy lady asking questions. No one will talk to me. I wouldn’t even get in the door. No, what we need is to find someone on the inside who might be willing to talk to us.”

“Mrs. Shalt’s sister Kathy.” Annie looked over at me with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Right. Nurse Kathy.”

We continued our drive along the turnpike and soon crossed the border into New York and found ourselves in Port Chester. Shirley had once again come through for us and found the address of Jerome Perry. It was nice of John to let these little nuggets slip out.

“Annie, I must take you into the city before you leave.”

“Oh, Gerard and I have been to New York City many times. We do love it, but I cannot do anything until we find the killer. Once we achieve that, then yes, we would love to go.”

I was happy to see Annie was so optimistic about our abilities to unravel the mystery before she had to board her flight back to Brussels, but I wasn’t sure it would happen. I didn’t want to burst her enthusiasm bubble so I just continued to drive until I found the Perry residence, which turned out to be an upscale apartment building.

“Sorry, but you just missed him,” the doorman said.

Our luck at catching people at home had finally run out.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” I asked. We had driven all this way and I didn’t want to have to come back, but maybe he got a new job and wouldn’t be home until late.

“Hard to say. Now that he’s out of work, he comes and goes a lot. Looking for a job takes a lot of work these days.”

So the man knew a bit about Mr. Perry’s life. Maybe I could get more out of him, like whether or not Jerome Perry was out when Mr. Spiegel was killed. Trouble was, I didn’t know exactly when that was, but decided to fake it as best I could.

“I actually came by last Tuesday hoping to catch Jerome,” I said, hoping to sound like a good friend, “but missed him then as well.”

“Yeah, he’s in and out all the time. I know he had a couple of interviews last week.”

“So he was gone on Tuesday?” I pressed.

The old gentleman ran a hand over his chin. “I wouldn’t know. Tuesday’s my day off. Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll try him again later.”

Annie and I turned to go.

“He hangs out at the Village Brew a lot.”

“The Village Brew?” I turned back and smiled.

“Yeah, it’s a coffee shop here in town. All the young people hang out there. Sit around drinking expensive coffee and playing with their computers and phones. He might be there.”

The doorman gave us directions and we got back in the car.

Annie reached over and turned the heater on. The weather had turned gray and the car was cold. “How are we going to recognize him?” Annie asked.

“Good question. I didn’t want to ask the doorman what Mr. Perry looked like because I wanted him to think we were good friends. I guess we could ask one of the workers at the Village Brew. If Jerome hangs out there a lot, maybe they know him by name.”

The Village Brew turned out to be more than just a coffee shop. It also served homemade sandwiches and Annie went up to the counter to get us a hot drink and some lunch while I scoped out the clientele.

The place was big, but with a warm atmosphere, and I could see myself hanging out here with a good book and a cup of tea if I didn’t have to go to work every day. It seemed like a popular place, but I didn’t see a man alone with a computer among the crowd.

Annie sat down across from me and placed two mugs of hot tea on the table. “They’ll bring our sandwiches out as soon as they are ready. Is Mr. Perry here?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. There’re two older men over there talking,” I nodded my head in their direction, “but from what the doorman said, I get the impression Mr. Perry is younger than them. Maybe in his early thirties would be my guess.”

A waitress brought over our grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. They were piled high with very thinly sliced ham and cheese that was melted but not burned. It was all placed on homemade grilled bread and looked wonderful. I loved sandwiches. There was no right or wrong way to make one. Whatever sounded good you could slap onto your favorite bread, add a few other toppings and you had a meal. On weekends, John and I liked to have grilled sandwiches a lot, and one of us usually made some kind of homemade soup to go with them. A perfect meal.

I picked up my tea and looked at Annie over the rim of my mug. She cut her sandwich into bite-sized pieces as was the norm in Europe. I usually worked murder cases alone, but I was very happy to have her along. For a woman in her fifties she was a ball of energy, and said running around a hospital all day kept her in great shape. She was very insightful, and it was good to have someone to bounce ideas off of.