The April Fools' Day Murder Page 15

“Honestly? No. I just want to know what it’s all about.”

  “He’s had a lot of time to polish up his story.”

  “Everybody in this case has. I think I’m most disappointed in Mr. Vitale. I was really on his side till Roger told me what Vitale had left out.”

  “What do you suppose Winnie Platt has left out?”

  “A life full of annoyances. And still, the high school kids loved him. The drama teacher thought the world of him. I don’t know, Jack.”

  Before nine I called Sister Joseph and told her what had happened with Amelia, which she found interesting, and also that I had talked to a neighbor about the accident.

  “Keep at it,” she said.

  I promised I would.

  21

  Harry Franks lived in a prewar apartment house in the West Nineties between Broadway and West End Avenue. I had a terrible time finding a place to park, eventually sliding into a metered space on Broadway as a car pulled out. I fed the meter all it would take, which gave me an hour, and hoped I could conclude my conversation with Harry in that length of time.

  He was expecting me and buzzed me into the lobby a second after I rang his bell. There were strange food smells in the hall and I wondered what ethnic background they represented. You could probably write a history of New York on the kitchen smells of its apartments.

  Harry opened his door and ushered me in. It was a dark apartment and he didn’t turn any lights on. The furniture had become shabby over the many years it had been in the living room. I imagined that when his wife died, the apartment simply froze. He would never change anything.

  “So what can I do for you?” he said when we were sitting.

  “Harry, you’re not going to believe this, but I found Will’s first wife.”

  “Amelia? No kidding. How’d you do that?”

  I told him and he seemed impressed.

  “Now refresh my memory,” he said. “Why were you going to try to find her in the first place?”

  “To find out who shot Willard Platt fifty years ago.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. He got shot. You talk to her?”

  “I went to visit her last Saturday but she wouldn’t tell me. Then I got a call that she was in the hospital and wanted to see me. I went there yesterday.”

  “She say anything?” He seemed eager for an answer.

  “She said you shot Will.”

  “Nah. She got a bug in her head.”

  “Harry, I need to know the truth.”

  He looked away from me. I wasn’t sure whether he had done it or if Amelia had named him just to clear herself. Maybe it wasn’t a deathbed confession; maybe it was an old woman with a grudge putting the blame on an innocent man. Maybe, I thought, they had done it together.

  “That Amelia,” he said, still looking away. “What’s she look like now? I bet she’s still a beautiful woman, even if she’s got a few gray hairs.”

  “No gray hairs that I could see, but she’s a woman who takes care of herself.”

  “She always did. What a body that woman had. Will should’ve taken better care of her.”

  “What are you saying, Harry?”

  “He married her for the wrong reasons. He didn’t love her. He was in love with himself. He’d been in the war, he’d got out in one piece, he wanted a good time. He met this gorgeous girl and swept her off her feet. They do that anymore? Sweep a girl off her feet?”

  I smiled. “I think it still happens, Harry.”

  “So they got married. Went down to City Hall with two witnesses and tied the knot. I gave them a bottle of champagne for a wedding present. The marriage didn’t last much longer than the champagne.”

  “That’s a lovely gift.”

  “They went away, they came back. Next thing I know, they can’t stand each other.”

  I listened, hoping this was leading somewhere.

  “He wasn’t nice to her, you know? She didn’t deserve how he treated her. She was a nice girl. I think she really loved him when she married him. She called me once or twice.”

  “When they were married?”

  “Yeah. Said he got angry at her all the time. There wasn’t anything she could do right. She cried.”

  “I guess she needed sympathy,” I ventured.

  “Well I gave her sympathy, all right. She deserved it. She needed it.”

  “And?”

  “And things got worse. One night she called me.” He stopped, looking pained. “She say anything about me when you talked to her?”

  “Nothing. Just that you shot Will.”

  “It was a long time ago. I guess she doesn’t remember.”

  “What happened the night she called?” I prompted.

  He didn’t seem to want to go on. “She said something about how Will said he couldn’t stand living with her anymore. He wanted out. She said he had a couple of drinks and walked out on her. I was feeling really bad. I asked her if I should come over. She said sure, why not? So I went over to their apartment, went upstairs. She was alone. She said she didn’t think Will was ever coming back, but I knew Will better than that. He’d left all his clothes there and he wore good clothes. I knew he’d come back for them.”

  “How long did you stay?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t remember. You’re talkin’ fifty years. A coupla hours, I guess. She broke out the good scotch and we drank a little.”

  I had a feeling a little meant a lot. “What happened?” I asked.

  “You mean …? Nothing happened. She cried. I patted her on the shoulder. I listened. That’s what happened. Then Will came home.”

  I felt a chill. It was a perfect setup for violence, assuming at least one of the men was violent. “What happened?”

  “What do you think happened? He was sore as a pup. He wanted to know how long this had been going on. I said nothing was going on. He didn’t believe me. I could tell he’d been drinking, but so had we. It was just a bad scene. I could understand why he would think maybe there was something between Amelia and me, but I couldn’t forgive him for the way he’d been treating her. Next thing I know, he’s in the bedroom and he comes back with a gun and he points it at me.”

  “You must have been very frightened.”

  “Lemme tell you. Here’s this guy I love with all my heart, who got me through the thick and thin of the war. He’s had too much to drink and he’s pointing a gun at me because he thinks I did something terrible that I didn’t do. And he’s bigger than me besides.”

  “What happened, Harry?”

  “We had a fight. Amelia was crying and screaming, thinking one of us was gonna end up dead, which could’ve happened. And I’m scared to death I’m gonna be the dead man. I don’t know how it happened. Maybe I wasn’t as drunk as him, but somehow I got the gun away from him and in the excitement I pulled the trigger.”

  “And he got hit.”

  “Yeah. He got hit.” He took a deep breath, as though he was glad he’d finally gotten it off his chest. “And then?”

  “Then Amelia called a girlfriend of hers who was a nurse and this nurse came over and took care of him. It wasn’t a big deal, at least she said it wasn’t. She fixed him up, bandaged him, told him to take it easy, and said none of us should ever talk about it or she’d lose her license. So I haven’t talked about it for fifty years.”

  “Thank you, Harry.”

  “Boy, I can’t believe I kept that a secret for so long.”

  “What I don’t understand is how the two of you stayed friends.”

  “We were friends. We were like brothers almost. Will came over to see me a coupla days later like a dog with his tail between his legs. He couldn’t apologize enough for accusing me and Amelia. He said he’d had a lot to drink and he couldn’t really remember all that happened. But he was fine and he and Amelia were splitting up. He walked in with a cane, I remember, just a plain-lookin’ thing in dark wood. While we were talking he pulled the top part out of the bottom part and showed me there was a blade inside. And he said so
mething like, ‘Don’t ever pull a gun on me again, you hear?’ As if I’d pulled a gun on him.” He shook his head. “And that was it. We stayed friends. He moved out of the apartment when he felt better and he took all his clothes with him. In a coupla months he had a new girlfriend, and that one he married for good. Her name was Winnie.”

  “And you and Amelia?”

  “She called me the next day, said how much she appreciated my saving her life, which I didn’t do. And I never saw her again.”

  That surprised me. It had sounded like the beginning of a romance. “I see,” I said noncommittally.

  “I would have, but she didn’t want to. I think she was lookin’ for another big, good-lookin’ guy like Will. I wasn’t very big and I was never very good-lookin’.”

  “You’re a very nice man, Harry,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “All the girls say that.”

  “So you and Will really stayed friends all those years.” I still found it surprising.

  “All those years, yeah. I went to his wedding with Winnie. That was some bash, I can tell you. And he came to mine. And we stayed friends. I can’t tell you what it did to me when I got that call last week that he was dead. It was like a piece of me was gone. I kept remembering the war, how we got off the landing boat and made it through the water up onto the beach with the Japs shootin’ at us as if we were devils. A coupla times there, if it hadn’t been for Will, I wouldn’t’ve made it.”

  “That’s quite a story. You know, Will’s children don’t know anything about his first marriage.”

  “I been thinkin’ about that. We never talked about it, you know. You think maybe Winnie doesn’t know?”

  “I think it’s possible. I’m not going to tell her. I did tell Roger.”

  “Isn’t that somethin’? He never told them. I guess it got to be like a dream that didn’t work out.”

  “I guess so.” I got up and put my coat on. My meter would be running out of time. “Will must’ve been a pretty tough guy.”

  “He was. Winnie’s a good girl for putting up with him. But he was good to her, I gotta say that. He learned his lesson the first time.”

  “I guess he did. And he carried a cane the rest of his life. Maybe that was to remind him that he shouldn’t lose control.”

  “Maybe so.”

  I was near the door and ready to leave when I remembered something. I turned back. “What became of the gun, Harry?”

  “The gun, the goddamn gun. Well, I took it with me when I left their apartment. I wasn’t gonna leave it around for him to pull on anyone else. I took a long walk that night, over to the Hudson River. There’s a coupla places you can get right near the river on a walkway. I looked around to make sure no one was looking and I threw it in the water. It’s probably still there, if anyone wants to go fishing for it.”

  I thought that was likely to be true, along with a hundred other heavier than water secrets. “Harry, I have to tell you something. Amelia was very ill when I saw her. Her sister called last night and said she died.”

  “No.” He looked as though he had just been struck.

  “I’m sorry. She was really very weak. She knew she didn’t have much longer to live.”

  He got up from his chair. He wasn’t a very tall man. We stood nearly eye-to-eye. Amelia had probably been taller than he. “Thanks for comin’, Chris. It was nice to see you. I hope you figure out who killed Will. Someone should hang for it.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed with his assessment, but I promised I would do my best. When I got back to my car, the meter was just turning red.

  I had left Eddie with Elsie, so I had time to spare. I drove back to Oakwood, made myself a quick lunch, and then drove over to the house Carolyn Haney had pointed to across Oakwood Avenue from hers. I rang the bell, hoping Fran Goldman would be home, and she was. I introduced myself to her, explained why I was there, and she invited me in.

  “That must have happened five years ago,” she said. “Why are you interested?”

  “I’m looking for a motive for the murder of Willard Platt.”

  “The man who was killed on April Fools’ Day?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “His wife was driving that car that crashed. What could that have to do with his murder?”

  “Probably nothing, but I can’t find a motive anywhere else.”

  “I’ve heard he was on bad terms with a lot of people.”

  “Like whom?”

  “The mayor and council, his son.”

  “I’ve heard about those. Do you have any information about that?”

  “No. It’s just gossip. The women I carpool with were talking. He was a strange man, I think.”

  “I think you’re right. But you know, he was very generous to the high school drama group.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “He didn’t talk about it, but I know he contributed time and money.”

  “I guess you never know about people.”

  Thinking about the story I had heard that morning, I had to agree. “Can you just go over with me what happened the day of the crash?”

  “I was reading the paper. I heard the sound and knew something terrible had happened. I went to the living room window, but I could hardly see anything. It was winter and it got dark early. Also it was snowing. But I heard sounds, a woman’s voice. A car door slammed a couple of times. I put my coat on and went out the front door. I could make out the car because the rear lights were on. And the headlight on the driver’s side was beaming through the snow. The other headlight had gotten smashed, so there was only the one beam. I dashed back inside and called the police.”

  “So you’re the one who called first.”

  “I think so. There wasn’t enough time from when I heard the crash and picked up the phone for anyone else to have called, but it’s possible. They got here pretty quick, at least, I heard the sirens a few seconds after I hung up. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

  “Did you go back outside to the car?”

  “Yes. People were coming out of their houses. I saw Carolyn. The police wanted us out of the way so I went home.”

  “Did you see Mrs. Platt?”

  “Yes. I heard later she had gone to Carolyn’s to get help, but I think I got to the phone before she did.”

  “Did you see anyone come over who seemed to be a friend or a family member?”

  “All I can tell you is that there were a lot of people there by the time the police came.”

  “Thanks, Fran.”

  I thought about it as I walked out to the car. There was nothing new, nothing that didn’t corroborate what Carolyn had said. I signaled my turn at the corner of Oakwood Avenue, then changed my mind. Instead I changed the signal and went the other way, ending up at Doris Platt’s house. There was still the question of the new will.

  She was home and invited me in. We sat at the kitchen table and I refused her offers of tea and coffee. “Doris, what do you know about the will your father-in-law wrote?”

  “I’ve never seen it. I know, because Winnie told Roger, that Roger was cut out of it. That didn’t surprise either one of us, considering the relationship they had.”

  “It may not have been a surprise to Roger, but was he upset when he heard about it?”

  “My recollection is that he was almost relieved. He said it gave him freedom. His father owed him nothing and he owed his father nothing. He said he had never wanted his father’s money, that he would earn his own. And he has.”

  From the way she spoke, it was clear Winnie hadn’t told her about the discovery of the new will. “I’d like to talk to Roger about that,” I said.

  “Oh dear.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s just that he was very unhappy about both of us discovering him last Saturday. The police have been bothering him, not at that apartment, but here. I don’t know if he’ll see you.”

  “Would you call and ask?”

 
She went to the phone and dialed. She kept her voice down while she spoke but I heard her say, “She’s here now.” There was some discussion, then she turned to me, still holding the phone. “Can you come here tonight about eight?”

  “Sure.”

  The conversation ended and she hung up. “He’s really in a mood. But he’ll be here tonight.”

  “Are your children gone?”

  “Yes. They left this morning.”

  “Did Roger stay here while they were here?”

  “Overnight, yes.”

  So they were still keeping up appearances. “I’ll see you at eight.”

  22

  I arrived at the Platts’ house about five to eight. Roger’s car was in the driveway and he was the one who opened the door for me. He didn’t respond to my greeting, just closed the door behind me and walked into the living room. I took my coat off and laid it over a chair. Doris didn’t seem to be around, which unnerved me a little. I wanted her presence as a calming effect on her husband.

  “What is it you want?” Roger asked when we were both seated.

  “First of all, I want you to know I haven’t said anything to your mother about your father’s first marriage and I don’t intend to.”

  “How did you come to know about it? You may have told me but I’ve forgotten.”

  “Your father’s friend, Harry Franks, told me.”

  “Harry. Right. Did Harry come out for the funeral?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I’ll have to call him. OK. What’s on the agenda?”

  “Your father’s will.”

  He said something under his breath that I was sure was unflattering. “This is not your business. This is the business of my family.”

  “You’re right about that, but I probably know more right now than your family and the police know. I think if I can put it all together, I may be able to figure out who killed your father.”

  He seemed to consider this. I knew he didn’t want to talk to me about anything; he had made that clear when I saw him on Saturday. But I wanted to watch his face when I told him about the new will. It was very quiet in the house. If Doris was there, she was making no noise. While I was glad to talk to Roger without her presence, I was uncomfortable knowing I was alone with the prime suspect in a homicide.