Nasty Cutter Page 14

  I looked up at the maple tree branch hanging over the deck. In a few weeks it was going to start budding. I remembered my dad and Marty hanging out back here under the tree during the summer. Sometimes Uncle Ray would join them, and I would sit off to the side, listening to their war stories. Uncle Ray always won, of course.

  Suburban bliss.

  ‘I thought we were here to pay our respects to Marty and his family,’ I said. ‘Not go over what’s keeping me from proposing to Allison.’

  ‘Consider it a bonus, Ray.’ She touched me on the arm. ‘Just go back inside and say you’re sorry. It works for Dennis.’

  ‘He’s your fiancé and saves his backbone for the NYPD.’

  ‘Still, he’s a smart guy.’ She took another sip of beer. ‘Have you seen Marty or Helaine yet, by the way?’

  ‘No, I’ve been too busy watching Allison work.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘Drop it, Ray. Mom’s upstairs with Helaine, I think. Redoing her makeup and hair. Marty might be over in the driveway with his golfing buddies. Why don’t you take a look?’

  ‘Trying to get rid of me?’

  ‘I’m doing you a favor, big brother. I’ll run into Allison before you do and soften her up.’ Before I could argue, she said, ‘You’re welcome,’ and went back inside.

  I headed around the side of the house to the driveway. Just as Rachel had said, there was Marty with the two guys I’d seen when we got dropped off. Smart idea: grab some beers, head outside, get away from the constant hum of the mourners. Marty noticed me as I approached.

  ‘There he is,’ he said, making ‘is’ sound closer to ‘ish.’ He came over, put his arm around me, and led me toward his friends. ‘Boys, this is Raymond Donne, my dad’s former law partner’s kid. We used to hang out together back in the day.’

  That wasn’t quite the way I remembered it. We were at a lot of the same parties, of course, but to say we hung out would be stretching it. But now was not the time to correct him. I stuck my hand out. ‘Nice to meet you guys. Golf buddies or business associates?’

  ‘Both,’ the taller of the two said. ‘You a lawyer, too?’

  ‘Worse,’ Marty said. ‘He’s a public schoolteacher. And … he used to be a cop.’

  The two friends looked at me as if Marty had just told them I studied the mating habits of sea urchins.

  ‘I know,’ I said, spreading out my arms. ‘I’m a slave to the almighty dollar.’

  All three laughed as they sipped their cheap American beers while wearing their expensive foreign suits. They probably weren’t used to rubbing elbows with the likes of me, unless they represented one of us.

  ‘That’s good,’ the shorter one said. ‘Marty said you were on the news a while ago. Something to do with a dead kid. You found the killer or something?’

  ‘The dead kid,’ I said, ‘was one of my students.’ I let that sink in. ‘And I didn’t really find the killer. The cops were largely responsible for that.’ That was a lie, but I didn’t feel like telling the story of Douglas Lee’s murder and the capture of his killer to these guys. ‘In fact, my sister’s marrying the detective who solved it.’

  ‘Well, Raymond here helped,’ Marty said. ‘He’s a good guy. His uncle’s the Chief of Detectives in the NYPD.’

  ‘And you left the job?’ the taller one said. ‘Sounds like you had your future laid out for you.’

  ‘You make that sound like a good thing,’ I said.

  That stumped him. ‘Well, yeah. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Not for me it wasn’t.’

  We were quiet for a bit and then the three of them started laughing. I didn’t know what was so funny until the shorter one said, ‘You’re single, aren’t you?’

  Christ.

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘Single guys don’t think about the future like us married guys with kids.’ He suddenly looked a little less jovial. ‘Sometimes that’s all we think about.’

  ‘My kid’s not even three yet,’ the taller guy said. ‘And already we’re worried about what schools we can afford and should we move to a better neighborhood.’

  ‘Everything becomes about your kid, Ray,’ Marty added. ‘Everything.’

  I took a sip of beer as we all contemplated that. Suddenly, I was the happiest guy on the driveway.

  ‘Marty,’ I said after a while, ‘I feel like an idiot. I haven’t even asked if your wife and boy are here. I’d like to meet them.’

  ‘They came and left,’ Marty said. ‘Jeffrey’s barely two. He couldn’t last, and Marsha was exhausted so I let them go home.’

  I remembered that his wife hadn’t come to the benefit the other night either. The child was the excuse then, also. I found myself wondering for some reason if Marty had any idea of his father’s affair with Maria Robles. Could that have been what they were arguing about at the benefit? That’d be a real good question for the detective in charge to ask if I hadn’t already promised to keep my mouth shut about the matter.

  ‘Your day will come, Raymond,’ the taller guy said. ‘We saw the young lady you got dropped off with. You’d be a fool to let that one get away.’

  I smiled and held my beer up in a toasting gesture. ‘You’ve been talking to my mother, haven’t you?’

  That got another round of laughs as we clinked our bottles, and I figured it was as good a time as any to excuse myself. We shook hands all around – I never did get those two guys’ names – and Marty told me he would be right behind me. Somehow, I doubted that. The driveway was much more fun than inside.

  Back inside, I noticed Helaine Stover. She was surrounded by three ladies, none of them my mother. She wore a simple black dress and a pearl necklace. Her friends were dressed the same. Shiva-wear, I guessed. I maneuvered my way around a group of other guests and made it over to the widow. She saw me before I could speak.

  ‘Oh, Raymond,’ she said, stepping through two of her friends. ‘Thank you so much for coming all the way out here.’

  We hugged for about ten seconds. ‘Of course,’ I said as we broke the embrace. ‘I am so sorry about Marty, Helaine. How are you doing?’ The dumb question we all ask at times like these.

  She looked at me and forced a small smile. ‘I’m … I’m still in shock, I guess. I can’t believe it. The last two days seem like a bad dream. Our rabbi told us this morning that’s to be expected when someone. …’ She was fighting back tears. ‘When we lose someone so suddenly. In such a way. I always feared it would be Marty’s heart what with the hours he kept and all the stress. This,’ she was losing the battle against the tears. ‘This is literally unbelievable.’

  She wrapped her arms around me again and cried. Her friends all looked at me and gave me sympathetic smiles and nods. Unable to come up with any words of comfort, I just patted Helaine gently on the back. When she got herself back under control, she said, ‘I’m going to ruin my makeup again, Raymond. Your mother was so kind to help me touch up before.’

  ‘Maybe you should go sit in the living room, Helaine. Get off your feet for a bit. Maybe have some water. Let people come to you.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. Marty has me taking some of his anxiety pills. I feel a little … what’s the word? Buzzed?’

  I thought about Marty slurring his words in the driveway. Maybe buzzed was the way to get through this early part of the mourning process. The problem is, once the buzz wears off, your loved one is still gone.

  ‘Buzzed is OK,’ I said, taking Helaine by the elbow. ‘Where is my mother, by the way?’ I started walking her toward the living room.

  ‘She was talking to some friends from our bridge club in the kitchen,’ Helaine said. ‘Although, to be honest, we don’t play much bridge these days. It’s more of an excuse to get together and have lunch.’

  ‘And a glass of wine, I bet,’ I said.

  She laughed a little buzzed laugh. ‘Maybe one or two.’

  I got her to the big chair in the corner of the living room that was currently be
ing used by an elderly gentleman nursing what looked like a club soda. When he saw us, he got up and offered the seat to Helaine.

  ‘Thank you, Arthur,’ she said and used the armrest to help herself down. ‘And thank you, Raymond. Where’s that lovely girlfriend of yours? She did come?’

  ‘She’s around somewhere,’ I said. ‘I’ll find her and bring her over.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’

  Some other guests had started to gather around the chair to pay their respects. One brought her a glass of water. I was getting crowded out so I took that as my cue to walk away from the Widow Stover. It was time to find Allison and my mother. Maybe I could hear a few more of my faults before heading back to Brooklyn.

  SIXTEEN

  Who I found first was my Uncle Ray standing by the front door. He was in his dress uniform, the one normally reserved for official ceremonies, cop funerals, and press conferences. He looked impressive and he knew it. There was already a crowd gathering around him, no doubt hungry for the latest info on Marty’s murder. He’d be his usual tight-lipped self but give out just enough details to make his audience feel they got their money’s worth.

  There was no drink in his hand, so I figured he had arrived less than a minute ago. He noticed me from across the room and waved me over. Instead of marching to his orders like usual, I gave him a drinking gesture by making a C with my hand, bringing it up to my mouth, and tipping it a few times. He returned that with a smile and a thumbs-up, so I went back to the kitchen – oddly, my mother was nowhere to be seen – to get him a Diet Coke and whiskey. I hoped they had Jack Daniel’s. They did. I made one for myself, too. The beers just weren’t cutting it.

  When I returned to the living room, Uncle Ray was shaking a few hands and slapping a few backs. The man knew how to work a room no matter what the occasion. I stepped over and held out his drink. He grabbed the drink and brought it to his nose as if he were a wine taster. He smiled and said, ‘How’d you know?’

  ‘A wild guess,’ I said and touched my glass to his.

  ‘Everybody,’ he said to the two men and three women still listening to him, ‘this is my nephew, Raymond. Nephew Raymond, this is everybody.’

  ‘Nice to meet you all,’ I said.

  The two men shook my hand and introduced themselves as old friends and business acquaintances of Marty and my father. I was told what good men Marty and my dad were, and I thanked them for saying so. I was about to introduce myself to the women, when Uncle Ray spoke again.

  ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us,’ he said, ‘I need to speak with my nephew privately.’

  He put his hand on my shoulder and ushered me toward the front door. When we got outside, I asked, ‘Where’s Aunt Reeny?’

  ‘She decided to stay home,’ he said. ‘Said she had a headache and a cold, but the truth is she hates these things.’

  ‘What do you need to talk to me about?’

  ‘I don’t,’ he said. ‘I just needed some air.’

  ‘You were in there for all of three minutes.’

  He ignored that. If my uncle said he needed air, he needed air. He took a few deep breaths and then a long sip of his drink. It didn’t happen often, but I could tell something was bothering him. I could wait five hours and maybe he’d tell me after too many Jack and Cokes, or I could just come out and ask. I chose the latter.

  ‘What’s bugging you, Uncle Ray?’

  ‘I think Marty was cheating on Helaine.’

  That didn’t take long. I took a sip of my own drink before speaking.

  ‘Why do you think that?’ I asked, pretending the idea was unthinkable.

  ‘I read the statement she gave to the detectives Friday night,’ he said. ‘She said he’d been working longer hours, a lot of them in Brooklyn. Some nights he didn’t get home ’til four in the morning. She didn’t like him driving on the LIE at that hour. The nights he didn’t come home, she said he told her he stayed at a hotel.’

  ‘She didn’t believe him?’

  ‘Of course she believed him, Ray. This is Helaine Stover we’re talking about. Her husband was Williamsburg, Brooklyn’s, Man of the Year, for God’s sake. He’s been a good husband and father for forty years. He was a pillar of the goddamned community.’ He took another sip of his drink. There was maybe one left. ‘It’s me who doesn’t fucking believe him.’

  ‘Because you’re a cop and you don’t buy into the late-night story.’

  ‘Because I’m a cop who’s had enough conversations with guys who’ve been stepping out on their wives to know when a guy’s been stepping out on his wife.’ He turned to me. ‘Did you talk to Marty at all Friday night?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘But he didn’t mention cheating on Helaine.’

  ‘Don’t be an ass, Raymond. You didn’t notice anything different about him? The new suit, the new haircut? How he seemed like he couldn’t wait to get out of there?’

  ‘It was a benefit in his honor. He was excited and wanted to look good.’

  ‘Did you notice the weight loss?’

  ‘I hadn’t seen him in a while, so, no, I didn’t.’

  ‘There’s three reasons guys Marty’s age lose weight,’ he said, and then clicked them off on his thumb, forefinger, and middle finger. ‘They’ve got cancer, their cardiologist told them to drop a few, or they’ve got something going on the side.’ He looked at his three fingers. ‘Helaine said nothing about Marty’s health.’

  ‘Maybe it has to do with him working too much,’ I said. ‘Maybe he was too busy or too tired to eat.’

  He looked at me like I was slow, and repeated himself. ‘There’s three reasons guys Marty’s age lose weight.’ He held out the three fingers as a visual aid in case I still didn’t get it. ‘We also – and don’t repeat this to anyone – believe he had a phone his wife didn’t know about.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘Where do you keep your cell?’ he asked.

  ‘In my front pocket.’

  ‘Like most guys, right. We found Marty’s phone in his front pocket. It was the same one I have in my contacts list.’

  ‘So?’

  He finished his drink. ‘So, he was also wearing one of those cell phone holders people clip on to their belts.’ He paused for effect. ‘And guess what?’

  ‘It was empty,’ I said.

  ‘Bingo. When the detectives asked Helaine for Marty’s cell number, she only gave the one. He had an extra she didn’t know about.’

  ‘Which means he was cheating on her?’

  ‘Marty was about as low-tech – and cheap – as you could get in this day and age, Raymond. I saw the report from the break-in at his office. If he’d had a decent alarm system, the cops woulda been there before the burglar left. Why’s a guy like that need a second phone?’

  ‘Did you ask Helaine about it?’

  ‘And open up that bag of shit? Not unless I have to.’ He gave that some thought. ‘I’m ninety-nine percent sure he had something going on the side. I’m not bringing it up to his wife or kid until I’m a hundred percent sure.’ He swirled the ice in his glass around. ‘Of course, there’s the possibility that one, or both, of them already knew. If that’s the case …’

  ‘It provides motive,’ I said.

  ‘One of the oldest in the book, Boyo.’

  ‘But you don’t really think Marty Junior or Helaine would be capable of killing Marty, do you?’ I remembered the two of them leaving the party early Friday.

  ‘I’ve seen stranger things, Raymond. And not just on TV.’

  It was at that point I knew I should tell him about Maria Robles and Marty, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. But I did make a deal with myself that if the detectives needed to know that Marty was cheating on Helaine, I’d somehow – more than likely through an anonymous tip – let them know with whom. Until then, I was keeping my promise and staying shut. Like my uncle said: Why open that bag of shit unless absolutely necessary.

  ‘The detectives check his records to see if
Marty had another phone?’ I asked.

  ‘They did and came up with zilch. They’re thinking now maybe he just kept buying those pay-as-you-go-jobs.’ He must have seen the smirk I was trying to hide. ‘What is it, Raymond?’

  ‘The thought of Marty Stover with a burner,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah. It’d be funny if he weren’t so dead.’ He looked at his cup and tossed his ice cubes on to the front lawn. ‘I’m gonna get another and pay my respects. You good?’

  ‘For now,’ I said. ‘And thanks.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For sharing the info about Marty with me. I appreciate it.’

  ‘I knew you’d be curious. I also knew you’d keep your mouth shut.’

  ‘Right on both counts.’

  ‘Where’s your better half, by the way?’

  ‘Inside,’ I said. ‘We had a little disagreement.’

  ‘Happens to the best of us. Go find her, say you’re sorry, and that’ll be that.’

  ‘You’re the second person to give me that advice today.’

  ‘Must be as wise as me, then.’

  He disappeared inside as I took another sip of my drink. OK, maybe it was time to go back in and track down my girlfriend. I wasn’t sure about apologizing, but I was getting tired. I’d put in my time and wanted to go home.

  Allison was easy enough to find. I spied her as she was coming out of the kitchen with what I assumed was a fresh beer in her hands. She noticed me soon enough, and we met in the middle of the living room.

  ‘I just finished talking to your mother,’ she said.

  ‘I keep missing her.’

  ‘According to her, she’s been quite the social butterfly today. And not just today. I didn’t know she played bridge.’

  I smiled, remembering what Helaine had told me. ‘Every week,’ I said.

  Making small talk with Allison was awkward. I wasn’t sure if we were still arguing or if we were good. Maybe Rachel and Uncle Ray were right: I should just apologize and get it over with like a good boyfriend. I was composing an apology in my head when she beat me to it. Kind of.