Blood Count

CHAPTER 36

V irgil was looking through a pile of mail in the Hutchison apartment when I told him about Lennox, and the roof, and he just nodded then examined his iPhone as if it would give up the answers to everything. I figured it was the way he did his thinking.

“Sorry.” He put his phone away. “You find anything up there?”

“Hutchison didn’t just fall off the roof. He wasn’t a fool. You have to make a big effort even to lean over the edge of that fucking roof,” I said. “He’d have to get up over a wall, and why the hell would he do that?”

“What are you saying, Artie? He was pushed?”

“I’m not sure about anything. There’s stuff on the roof, that’s for sure, prints in the snow, indicates it’s not impossible. There’s only one set, far as I could see. Lionel could have gone off the roof, but not by himself. Where the fuck is that dog?”

“I don’t know. Did you talk to Lennox much at the party last night?”

“Talked my fucking ear off, most of it about the building, said he wanted what was best for everybody. He was like a politician. In between the lines I got the feeling he had money troubles.”

“What about Celestina?” said Virgil.

“She was there. Holding court.”

“She left before Lionel?”

“Before he got there. I don’t think she pushed him though, do you? She weighs about ninety pounds, I’m guessing.”

“Maybe she convinced Lionel to off himself,” said Virgil. “Maybe he was sick and only she knew, and she went on at him about his believing in euthanasia. Maybe she played on him, made him feel guilty.”

“Doesn’t sound right,” I said. “Lionel didn’t seem like a guy to feel guilt about his beliefs, and if he was sick, he’d have used pills or something.”

“I’ll get some more input from the ME, then.” Virgil looked around the living room. “Sad room,” he said.

“You see it like that?”

“I do, Artie. There’s something about it, like it’s a shabby old museum piece. Suspended in time. People can’t stand change, some of them.” He tossed the mail on the table. “Nothing here except some real estate brochures from the islands. Maybe that was it,” Virgil said. “From what I heard, Celestina couldn’t stand Lionel, and she wanted to sell up here and move south,” he added. “She was jealous of him and the Russian.”

“Enough to kill him? How jealous could a ninety-year-old woman be?”

“Oh, Artie, man, you just have not met a lot of old folks,” said Virgil. “They are just like us, only more, a lot more. You think old people don’t have sex? Trust me.”

“You’re an expert?”

“I have a grandfather who’s ninety-five out in California; my great-granddad died at one hundred and five; my own father is going up to seventy.”

“Fine. Meanwhile, we need to talk to Celestina Hutchison.”

“You have a plan?” Virgil said.

“I want to see her here, with Hutchison’s things. I want to see her reaction. Tell her if she wants any of her clothes, anything like that, they’re gonna seal the apartment up tight as a drum until the ME releases Hutchison’s body and the will goes to probate, at least that long. Lennox said he thought she might be at some church. Get her here. Can you do that?”

He was already on his phone. “Right,” he said. “Fine.”

“I need the keys to Simonova’s place,” I said.

“I already borrowed them from Lily’s place.” He gave me the keys. “You have any idea when Lily’s coming back?”

I looked at my watch. “It’s a long way to the cemetery. It’s out on Long Island some place. She said she had to go by herself, some kind of duty thing.”

“Simonova exploited Lily,” Virgil said. “I told you I thought that. She made Lily listen to her stories, do her errands. Lily has some kind of liberal guilt, so she just did it.” Virgil got a set of keys out of his pocket and gave them to me. “You going into Simonova’s place, Artie?”

“I want a look at her terrace.”

He held up his phone. “I’ll keep on Celestina. I can do more on the phone than running around now. I got guys out there in cars spread out everywhere. Anyway, I want more time in this apartment OK? Try to keep Wagner’s other guys out, if you can. Buy me a little time, Artie.”

“Check in with the ME, too,” I said. “What about that dog?”

“I have a really fucking bad feeling, Artie. About that dog, I mean,” said Virgil.

“Keep me posted.” I left the apartment, and went over to Simonova’s place. Something was nagging at me.