Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 19
For most of the next month they merely passed time. He smoked a lot of grass, played music and watched television at his Jersey City apartment. It was three rooms, on the top floor of a three story wood frame structure, built probably right after World War II. There were two apartments on each floor.
The exterior was of faded green aluminum siding and exhibited no particular style. The entire neighborhood was similar, though the color shades seemed slightly different, probably due to varying degrees of dirt. He had kept some of the furniture that he and Monica had at the farmhouse. It included a Queen Anne highboy, a Chippendale secretary, a William and Mary sideboard, a Heppelwhite bookcase with drawers, in which he kept his stereo system and some other classical items that were more appropriate in their former resting place. It was an interior of beauty covered by plain, dirty surroundings. Sometimes he enjoyed being inside the apartment, but other times it reminded him of his lost life with Monica. He had recurrent dreams of not being able to get home from New York City, where he previously worked.
Some were ominous and would jar him awake. Other people living in the area were of mixed race and kept to themselves.
Kelly also spent most of her time at home, occasionally enjoying some reefer and wine, while playing music or reading in the library, which had pleasant memories for her, including the blood. She read a potpourri of books, half of them classics such as “Jane Eyre” and “Jude the Obscure.”
The local cops passed time, too. They were stuck. They needed some kind of break. They had thoroughly gone over everything they could think of, but as of now, there was no information that would lead to a conclusion other than an anonymous mob hit. They thought that if it was a mob hit, there might be something around leading to the killer. But, where and what?
Kelly? They got a list of everyone who stayed at any hotel or motel in a 25 mile radius. There were plenty of outsiders around just before and just after the murder, but the mere list didn’t suggest anything. Worse, the list was long, as many tourists liked the fall season in the region best. They obtained a report of all the guests who checked out the day after the murder. It too, led them nowhere, as it was almost the length of the entirety of the list, as most stays were only for a night or two, on the road to Santa Fe or Taos. Besides, what hit man in his right mind would have used his own name, anyway? It was a swamp.
Sheriff Mack and Detective Steve Elliot were mulling things over in the Sheriff’s office and Mack said; “We’re really just spinning our wheels now.”
Detective Elliot looked up at him and silently shrugged.
Mack said; “I’m going to call the boys at State and find out what they’re up to. He got Daugherty on the phone and was told that through an informant they found out who Simburg owed the money to. But when they paid Angelo a surprise visit, they were stonewalled as first, he, of course, wouldn’t admit that he was in the money lending business. Secondly, if he was, he wouldn’t be killing his debtors, as “Dead men don’t repay loans very well. Ha, ha.” Daugherty went on to tell Mack; “Quite frankly, the case has all the earmarks of another unsolved hit to be added to the list.” Mack hung up, relayed the lack of information to his assistant and queried; “Is there any possible procedure we didn’t do yet?”
Elliot forcefully said; “I think that we could have been harder on Mrs. Simburg. I think you held back some because it was so close to the murder. Time has passed. It can’t hurt to talk to her again. I’ve heard the tape of when you and the state guys interviewed her a few times. It sounds like you guys
covered everything. I really don’t know what else to ask her.
Do you?”
Mack shook his head, indicating “No.”
Elliot opened the fingers of both hands, suggesting a combination of futility and perseverance. He said; “Maybe we can just rattle her cage a bit and see if she says anything stupid.” He didn’t mention that he would relish the task, as he just plain didn’t like her, perhaps because she was so
“friendly” with men, but not him.
They discussed possible tactics and decided they would drop in unannounced to see her. It was an overcast day at 1:00PM
when they arrived at the Simburg residence. As they approached the front door, they heard music. Kelly shut it off when she heard the bell. She quickly answered the door.
With a degree of sarcasm Sheriff Mack said: “Good afternoon. I hope we’re not disturbing you.”
Kelly immediately recognized the inflection and surmised the consequences. Rather than shoot the opening contentious shot, she remained composed, though her mind was racing and placidly said; “Good afternoon. Of course not, please come in.”
Detective Elliot couldn’t resist showing his cards, which were actually none and said; “Good afternoon. Do you usually play music this time of day?”
Kelly, now knew, rather than surmised, that the visit would be less than cordial. With an air of derision and nonchalance, she said; “I play it whenever I feel like it. Am I disturbing a neighbor?”
Sheriff Mack ignored the faux question and saw that the game had commenced. He flatly said; “I guess we didn’t expect that from a grieving widow.”
Kelly easily retorted; “Have you met many grieving widows?
The last murder, that I heard of, in Castillo was about ten years ago.”
Det. Elliot: “You and your husband didn’t have a marriage made in heaven, did you?”
Kelly: “Do you?”
Det. Elliot: “Let us ask the questions, okay?”
Kelly: “No, we didn’t have a marriage made in any heaven I’ve heard of. Its feeling was more that of this earth.”
Det. Elliot: “Truth is that you didn’t even like each other.”
Kelly: “Not true at all. I think it was a very typical marriage.”
Sheriff Mack: “Did your husband know about your male friends?”
Kelly: “Maybe, he never mentioned it to me though. I didn’t bring it up.”
Sheriff Mack: “If you did, would he have approved?
Kelly: “Maybe, I don't know. Visit the grave and ask him.”
Det. Elliot: “You seem to be handling the situation very well. I might say without feeling.”
Kelly: “What am I supposed to do? Put on a nun’s outfit and cry a lot? I’ve got to rebuild my life.”
Det. Elliot: “How much did you say that insurance policy was?”
Kelly: “I don’t remember if I said it, but it is in the sum of five million dollars.”
Det. Elliot: “That goes a long way toward rebuilding almost anything.”
Kelly didn’t think that merited a reply. And if she answered it honestly, he wouldn’t understand or he’d pretend not to anyway. So she just stared at him.
Det. Elliot: “You’ve got no response to that one?”
Kelly: “I didn’t hear the question part.”
Det. Elliot, in a raised voice: “Don’t you look forward to getting the five million dollars? Doesn’t it make you happy?”
Kelly: “I’d be happier if it was ten million.”
Sheriff Mack couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Det. Elliot: “How often did you and Alan have relations?”
Kelly thought that the question was absurd and probably emanated from desperation or stupidity. She also thought it possible that Sheriff Mack might have a similar viewpoint. She decided to make clear to her nemesis how much respect she had for him. She calmly stated; “In one sense, we always had relations. In the other sense, none of your business, but probably more than you and your wife.”
Sheriff Mack had to laugh again. He put his hand over his mouth and shortened its duration. In an almost apologetic tone he said; “I’m sorry. That was very unprofessional of me. Look, Mrs. Simburg, we’re just trying to find something out.”
Kelly emphatically said; “The thing you should be doing is catching the killer and he’s not here. I’d like to help you catch him for a few good reasons. One of them is that if you did, I wouldn’t have to sit through a lot of stupid questions from this jerk here.”
Sheriff Mack: “Kelly, you’re too much. I apologize. We have little to go on and we thought we might scare something up.”
Kelly: “So I’m a suspect.”
Sheriff Mack: “Not anymore.”
Det. Elliot: “Until you do something stupid.”
Kelly: “If stupidity is what you’re looking for, suspect yourself first.”
Sheriff Mack: “We better go. Thanks for your time.”
Det. Elliot just looked coldly at her.
They turned and walked back toward their car. No goodbyes were exchanged.
When the two cops were seated Sheriff Mack, in his customary driver’s seat position, said; “I think that’s it for the investigation of Kelly Simburg.”
Det. Elliot said; “She’s a son of a bitch.”
Mack deadpanned; “That’s not yet a crime.”
Elliot just shook his head.
Mack mused; “She is some shit. I’d love to see her get really wild. But, we’re not going to be rattling her cage any more. Are we?”
Kelly watched the police car go down the driveway. When it was out of sight she lit a joint and jubilantly danced to Patti Smith singing “Twenty-fifth Floor.”