Authors: Lawrence Kelter
Third Victim (11 page)
Lido smiled as we left the station house. It was after four p.m. on Saturday afternoon, and we had just finished the paperwork on the three homicide victims found at the chabad. “Where to?” he asked. “I’m not used to doing the driving when you’re around.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. You seem seasoned enough to take a turn behind the wheel.”
Or me.
He smirked. “That’s real big of you.”
“I know. I’m a great partner. You hit the lottery when you were assigned to work with me, Lido.”
“Really?”
he chuckled.
“I’m meeting my mother for a quick bite before the theater.”
“What are you seeing?”
“
Pervy Pumps
,” I confessed. “Darhansoff comped me a pair of tickets.”
His eyes grew large. “What about parity for your partner?”
“I thought you hated the theater.”
“Yeah, I do. Just busting your chops,” he admitted as we walked to the car.
I tossed him the keys. “Show me what you’ve got, rookie, and keep in mind that if you don’t know how to handle a car properly, I’ll remind you of it every day of your life.”
He rolled his eyes as he got behind the wheel. “You think Bascom and Danziger will be found guilty?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“So yes, then?”
“I think we’ve got their asses pretty solidly nailed.” Forensics had come back on John Doe’s DNA, proving that he was in fact Rory Singer, and fibers found on the deceased matched Eli Danziger’s wool winter coat. I doubted that we’d get a confession from him, but Danziger had been in the army, and I know for fact that anyone who completes basic training knows how to detonate an explosive charge, so a coffee-can bomb was well within his range of expertise.
The security video at the Al Hirschfeld Theater showed that Danziger had attended the Sunday matinee. All he had to do was hide overnight, sneak downstairs to the lower level dressing rooms, wait for Koufax to arrive on Monday morning, and knock him unconscious. I had chatted with Koufax subsequent to his being rescued and learned that both Bascom and Danziger knew that he was planning to spruce up his dressing room before work on Monday, and that he was meeting Singer at the theater.
Bascom was complicit as well. Prints found on the heavy sculptor’s hammer were his. His prints were found on the container of antifreeze recovered from the recycling bin, as well as on a Jamba Juice container found in a garbage pail outside the chabad. The tested Jamba Juice container revealed traces of ethylene glycol, the substance used to poison Singer. We also found a ticket for the Wednesday matinee of
Pervy Pumps
at Bascom’s apartment. My guess was that he was planning to sneak downstairs and unlock Koufax’s dressing room during the performance. All he had to do was push the door open without allowing Koufax to see him. He must’ve known that the cleaning staff would be coming by on Wednesday evening and would discover Koufax in the opened dressing room. At that point Koufax would’ve been without water for two and a half days and fatal dehydration doesn’t generally occur for at least a week, so there was a safe margin for error. Koufax was never meant to be a victim. They just needed him out of the way in order to murder Singer.
“You said that you weren’t surprised to see Danziger in Bascom’s apartment, but you never explained why.”
“Well, my fledgling detective, not to toot my own horn, but it all comes down to being observant.”
“Here she goes again,” Lido bellyached.
“When we first met Eli Danziger, I noticed odd black streaks on his fingernails, running from his cuticles to the tips of his nails.”
“That was a clue?”
“Not in itself, but when I went back to the morgue, I asked to see John Doe’s body again and he had those black streaks on his nails as well.”
“Black streaks?” Lido seemed puzzled. “Is that some new gay thing, like wearing one left earring?”
“If only that were the case,” I lamented. “Bascom had them as well.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were. Once I noticed those streaks on Doe’s nails, I called Tully and asked him to run a quick test on Doe. It was positive.”
“For?”
I grimaced sadly. “The black nail striations are a common symptom of someone who’s positive for HIV.”
Lido’s mouth dropped. “All three of them?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m guessing that Bascom and Danziger got the virus from Singer, and they decided to murder him for passing it to them. More than likely Singer knew that he was infected and kept quiet about it. As for Koufax, I’m guessing that they needed him out of the way and that he was probably the one who had introduced them to Singer in the first place.”
Lido started the engine and pulled out into traffic. It had been the most savage winter in memory and I absolutely couldn’t wait for spring to arrive.
“Koufax told us that he was supposed to meet Singer at the theater Monday morning before work. He was going to help Koufax set up his dressing room and then walk him over to the chabad. That had to be the reason why he left home so early. They were fast friends. Singer vouched for Koufax’s acting skills so that he’d get a role in
Pervy Pumps
, and … I fear he was Singer’s lover way before the other two,” I said glumly. “He must’ve been more careful than Bascom or Danziger. I hope he’s all right.” I sighed deeply. “Thank God HIV is no longer the death sentence it used to be.”
I doubted that Bascom and Danziger would ever confess to their crimes, but with the opportunity for the DA to play one off against the other, perhaps one of them would flip.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Chalice, you certainly have your shit together. I hope I have what it takes.”
“Don’t sweat it, rookie. You’ll do just fine.”
“So I guess Bascom intercepted Singer that morning and made some excuse for redirecting him to the chabad, something like Koufax overslept and wouldn’t have time to visit the theater that morning. Maybe they knew that he liked Jamba Juice and …”
“That’s the way I have it figured.”
“And a few blocks away Danziger slugged Koufax and tied him up.”
“Yup.” I saw Ma waiting for me outside of Becco, one of our favorite before-theater restaurants. “There she is,” I said, pointing her out to Lido. She looked as if she was shivering. “Want to meet her?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Um, it’s so cold. Maybe next time, okay?”
“No pressure, rookie. I already dropped enough crap in your lap this week. By the way, you did great.”
“Thanks.” He smiled appreciatively. “Have fun with your mom.”
I got out of the car and raced across the street.
“It’s about time,” Ma complained before kissing me on both cheeks. “You no-good kid. I’m freezing out here.”
I took her by the arm and escorted her inside.
“How’d you get tickets for this show?” she asked. “I hear everyone is dying to see it.”
“I know people in high places,” I chortled, as we sat down. “Someone was nice to me.”
“Of course someone was nice to you. You’re a wonderful girl,” she cooed. “Now if only you’d be lucky enough to meet a nice fella …”
I would’ve normally lashed out and protested the constant zings about finding a husband and how I was going to end up an old maid, but I didn’t. I felt a smile spread across my face. My mind wandered a bit as I thought about Gus Lido and launched a fantasy about our future together.
~~END~~
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For more information on Stephanie Chalice and Chloe Mather thrillers, and my other books, please visit my website:
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In the Stephanie Chalice Thriller Series
Full-Length Novels
Don’t Close Your Eyes
Ransom Beach
The Brain Vault
Our Honored Dead
Baby Girl Doe
Compromised (Summer 2015)
Stephanie Chalice Novellas
First Kill: Prequel #1
Second Chance: Prequel #2
Third Victim: Prequel #3
In the Chloe Mather Thriller Series
Secrets of the Kill
Rules of the Kill
Legends of the Kill
Carnage of the Kill (Fall 2015)
Other Full-length Works of Fiction
Counterblow
Kiss of the Devil’s Breath
Palindrome
Saving Cervantes
Season of Faith
About The Author
I never expected to be a writer. In fact, I was voted the student least likely to visit a library. (Don’t believe it? Feel free to check my high school yearbook.) Well, times change, I suppose, and I have now authored several novels, including the internationally best-selling Stephanie Chalice and Chloe Mather thriller series.
Early in my writing career, I received support from none other than best-selling novelist, Nelson DeMille, who reviewed my work and actually put pencil to paper to assist in the editing of my first book. DeMille has been a true inspiration to me and has also given me some tough love. Way before he ever said, “Lawrence Kelter is an exciting new novelist, who reminds me of an early Robert Ludlum,” he told me, “Kid, your work needs editing, but that’s a hell of a lot better than not having talent. Keep it up!”
I’ve lived in the Metro New York area most of my life and rely primarily on locales in Manhattan and Long Island for story settings. I do my best to make each novel quickly paced and crammed full of twists, turns, and laughs.
Enjoy!
LK
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